#(HE'S GONNA WEAR 'EM UNTIL HE STRETCHES THEM OUT TOO THIN) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Heyo! Could I please get a scenario of phone sex with Gojo please? Thank you so much, I found you through AO3 and love your writing!

a good night’s rest - gojo x fem!reader (2.7k)

gojo sends you a picture of himself in a hotel bed whilst he’s away on a mission. it preys on your mind. thankfully, gojo’s got a bit of a predicament on his end too.

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! established relationship. phone sex, masturbation, use of toys. reader is afab and uses fem pronouns.

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

You’ve long since learned to deal with being on your own.

It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t want to be with you – when he is here, he wraps his arms around you and covers your face with kisses and squeezes you, holding you so tightly that you feel like he’ll never let go – but more that he has no choice but to have to go away. Satoru Gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the whole goddamn world, and with that comes a world of responsibility. So even though his constant missions all around Japan and abroad make you pout and tug at his clothes and sigh, you accept that it’s a fact of life.

And when he is there with you, you make the most of him to the tune of his mouth on yours and you sinking down onto his cock until neither of you can think about anything but one another’s body, sweat-slicked and needy and pressed against each other as you climb to your peaks together, over and over and over.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t get needy when he’s away.

Tonight had been one of those nights. He’d sent you a picture of himself in his hotel bed, blindfold pushed up to reveal crystalline blue eyes with galaxies swirling in them, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and two fingers held up to his cheek in a peace sign. It’s a silly photograph, more than anything else – but it had been hard for you to concentrate on anything when he’d been shirtless beneath the blankets. When you’d seen the lean lines of his broad shoulders and muscled chest, the bare, unmarked collarbones that were begging to be kissed and bitten.

After you’d noticed the bare top half, it had been impossible to not let your gaze linger on all of the other things. The pink tip of his tongue (that you wish was buried between your legs), the two fingers (that you wish were inside of you), the blankets bunched up around his hips hiding his cock (you’d wondered if he was naked in his fancy hotel bed and squeezed your legs together, a soft breath escaping you at the thought).

You’d sent him a picture back of you blowing a kiss to the camera, but you hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts about him.

So you’d let your fingers wander. Cupped your breast in your hand, tugged at your nipples – stroked over your stomach with the barest hint of your fingertips, brushing your soaked slit through the thin material of your underwear. You’d imagined they were Gojo’s fingers as well as you could, but it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been enough to bite into your lip and circle your clit imagining Gojo’s voice teasing you about how wet you were for him; and it hadn’t been enough when you’d slipped one finger inside of yourself to the knuckle and it hadn’t hit you in all the same places that Gojo’s fingers do.

You’d been laid on your bed, teeth clenched and sweat beading on your hairline with tears of frustration welling in the corners of your eyes, when your phone had begun to ring and you’d seen Gojo’s name flash up.

“Hello?” You’d breathed into the receiver, fumbling with the hand not inside of you to answer. You hear an answering sigh, Gojo’s voice pitching into a whine as he says;

“Doll? I miss you.”

Your eyes close.

“I miss you too,” you breathe. You wonder if he can hear the light hitch in your breath – if he’s wondering what you’re doing right now. You hope not. It would be embarrassing, you think, to be caught in this particular act. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“It’s nice to hear yours!” He chirps, too bright considering that it’s what – two in the morning? “I’ve been trying to go back to sleep ever since you sent me that picture, but . . .” His voice drops, low. “Cupcake--”

“Did you like it?” You ask, the change in his tone sending shivers down your spine. He chuckles down the line and you feel yourself clench around the finger still buried inside of you, a little bolt of electric heat shooting down your spine.

“Like it? Oh . . .” He takes a soft little breath. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, huh?”

“Says you,” you whisper, your voice dropping to something low and throaty. “Were you wearing underwear in the one you sent?”

He chuckles down the line.

“We-e-ell,” he says, drawing out the syllable into a sing-song, “I’m sure not wearing it now.”

“Me neither,” you admit. Your face is burning hot, but you move the phone a little – you pull your finger half out of you before driving it back in, the wet sound obvious even (you hope) through the line. Gojo makes a groan, a whistle through his teeth – but he manages to keep his tone teasing as he says;

“Ahh, now – is that what I think it is? Tch!” He clicks his tongue at you in mock disappointment. “You’re so naughty, dollface--”

“What are you doing right now?” You ask him, and he laughs. You hear the noise of something slick and wet and you think of him pumping his shaft (how thick, how long it always looks in his hand) and have to swallow back the lump in your throat.

“That’d be telling!” He says, brightly, but he ends with a light laugh. “I think you can guess, can’t you?”

“D’you miss me that much?” You slide a second finger inside of yourself, relishing the stretch of your slick, tight walls around you.

“More than words can say,” he breathes. “I’d fuckin’ kill to have you with me right now, doll-- my hands don’t feel half as good as yours--”

“My fingers don’t reach as far as yours,” you admit, breathlessly. You know he must be able to hear that those fingers are sliding in and out of you faster and harder with every moment that passes. “I--”

“Get a toy,” Gojo says. His voice has dropped a semitone; low, and commanding. He’s usually carefree with his words, but when he gets an idea into his head he clings to it. He loves being in control. “The blue one, you know the one I like--”

You fumble, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a slick pop. The bottom drawer has a little collection of sex toys in, most of which you’d owned before you’d met Gojo – some of which he’d bought you, though, because he liked the idea of spicing up your sex life.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can satisfy you,” he’d said, with a crooked, cheeky grin. “But . . . it’s nice to introduce some tools every so often, right?” He’d winked at you and pressed the blue dildo into your hand. “This one’s almost as long as me and only a little bit thinner--”

“I’ve got it,” you breathe, once you’re back on the bed, and Gojo makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat.

“Get it nice and wet for me like a good girl,” he says. Even though he can’t see you, you open your mouth and gently begin to kiss and lick the toy as if it were Gojo’s cock. You give kitten licks to the swollen head, soft kisses along where the slit would be (those always make Gojo groan, tilt his head back so you can see the column of his throat and you throb with need at how gorgeous he looks when you’re on your knees for him). Gently suckling just the head into the cavern of your mouth, before sliding further down on it--

You make a conscious effort to not quieten your noises. It’s a sloppier blowjob than you’d give Gojo, but all he has to go on right now is the audio of the phone call and you imagine the wet noises of you drooling around the toy are much sexier than you silently giving it a careful suck to wet it before you put it inside you.

Judging from Gojo’s reaction – the groaning you can hear coming from the other end, the ragged sighs – your efforts are not in vain.

“Good girl,” he says, as if he can see you, when you manage to deep-throat almost the whole thing. “I think that’s plenty wet enough now, right? T-tell me how you’re feeling--”

The light stutter is endearing – you imagine him stroking his thumb over the slit of his cock, swirling his pre-come over the reddened tip.

“I’m so wet,” you whimper, through the phone. “If I don’t get something inside of me soon I think I’ll die--”

“Fuck,” he says. “I wish it was me you were putting inside, doll.”

“Me too,” you say, with a sigh. “But this’ll have to do--”

“I’ll fuck you until I can’t walk when I’m home, I promise.” There’s a steely undercurrent to Gojo’s words that do not leave you doubting he means them sincerely. “But for now . . . bring the toy down your body, princess.” You follow his instructions, shivering at the sensation of the wet tip of it leaving a trail of your own saliva. “Touch your tits for me, come on-- if I were there, I’d kiss and bite your nipples until they were sore and aching, but . . . I’m not, so you’re gonna have to do it for me. Give ‘em a pinch--”

The hand not holding the toy puts the phone on speaker and places it beside you on the bed so you can heed his instructions. The sound of his low voice giving you orders and commands seems to intensify the ache inside of you threefold – as you pinch your nipples almost hard enough to hurt, as you squeeze the heavy weight of your breast and wish your fingertips were as big and as rough as Gojo’s. His hands always feel so good on you. You whimper aloud as you skim the sensitive skin, your nipples sore points as Gojo finally says;

“The toy, doll. I want you to rub it through your pussy for me, I wanna hear how wet you are--”

It does, indeed, make an indecent noise as the head of the dildo parts your slick folds. You’re drenched.

“Fuck,” Gojo groans. “You sound like you’re dripping--”

“I am,” you say, choked as you rub the smooth head over your poor, swollen clit. He hasn’t told you to put it inside of you yet, so you hold back; but fuck, you want to. You need to. “Wish you were here, Satoru--”

“I wish I was too,” he reassures you. “I need your hands on me, princess. Need your pretty cunt. Need to feel you squeeze around me and fuck you until you can’t walk--” As he speaks, you hear a growl in the back of his throat and imagine his hand getting faster on his cock. Your thighs are trembling.

“Satoru—” You whine, again, his words not helping the ache in your lower belly that feels like a physical pain. “N-need something inside of me, need it--”

“Shhh,” he breathes, “put it in, c’mon. Slowly. Let me imagine it filling you up.”

You’re so grateful for him telling you to put it in that you almost get greedy and press it in you in one fell swoop – but you want to be good for Gojo, so you manage to control yourself. You feel the wider flare of the head open you up as you ease it inside you inch by inch, your greedy channel swallowing it up and clinging to it tight and hot. It feels much better than your fingers do – it hits you deeper, fuller, wider. The muscles in your thighs clench as you put your feet on the bed, keeping your legs parted as wide as you can.

“Is it in?” He asks, and you make a soft whimper of assent. “How’s it feel?”

“N-not as good as you--”

You win a chuckle from him that has a strained chord in.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s the next best thing, right? You full? It good? I haven’t got anything to imagine is you except my own hand, dollface, so you’re winning the battle--”

“I’ll make it up to you,” the words tumble out of you, your breath heaving.

“Oh, I know you will . . . You wanna move the toy for me now? You wanna fuck yourself on it? I wanna hear you come, doll, so I can come with you--”

You don’t need to be told twice. You pull the toy out of you and immediately thrust it back in, establishing a rhythm as quickly as you can. Gojo would take his time – he loves having you at his mercy, shivering and shaking and begging him to go faster and faster and harder and harder, but you do not have the patience for that tonight without his body on top of yours. So you let the fast noises of you fucking yourself on the dildo echo around the too-empty bedroom, the curved spot of it hitting you just right with every desperate flex and thrust of your wrists. You want to be fucked out of your mind. You’re moaning, gasping, sighing his name aloud – and in return, you can hear the sound of Gojo’s hands on his shaft. He’s whispering your name in turn, along with filthy things about how tight you always are for him and how you’re his favourite, his good girl, he’s gonna fuck you into next week when he sees you, he needs your cunt around his cock right fucking now--

The hand not controlling the movement of the toy skims your stomach to part the plump lips of your sex, to play with your clit as you fuck yourself on the dildo. You circle the sensitive bundle of nerves a few times before beginning to rub in earnest, needing the direct stimulation. The pad of your finger is not large and calloused like Gojo’s is (his finger always feels so good on your clit, too – he always seems to know exactly how to swirl it, how much pressure to put on it, to build you up), but in tandem with the shaft currently plunging in and out of your walls--

“Satoru,” you pant, turning your head so your cheek is pressed against the pillow. “I’m-- I’m close--”

“Fuck,” you hear the slick sounds get faster, almost impossibly so. “Fuck, fuck, I want you to come for me, dollface, angel, cupcake, baby girl, princess-- lemme hear your pretty voice--”

Your eyes flutter closed and a vision of Gojo swims to the forefront of your mind – his pale hair slicked back with sweat, his shoulders so broad, his eyes glittering so dangerously as his teeth dig into his unfairly plump bottom lip. You recall the sound of his voice telling you to come.

The swirling tornado of heat inside of you seems to all converge on a single point between your thighs, and the ache in both of your wrists seems, too, to dissipate entirely as that point explodes into a thousand pieces and rains pleasurable sparks all over you, a tsunami crashing onto a peaceful shore.

You wail out Gojo’s name as you come, and whilst you’re still cresting the great wave of pleasure Gojo grunts out your own and you know that he’s come too.

You lie there with the toy still buried inside of you as you ride out the final waves, the trembling aftershocks. Your legs seize up and you lose your footing on the sheets so you’re simply laid there, a boneless, useless mess whose breath will not seem to stay in their lungs.

Gojo’s breathing is stuttered, and you cannot help the thrill that goes through you at the knowledge that you always get to be the one to break Satoru Gojo’s cool composure. Your fingers ache, but the sheets beneath them as you relax into the bed is blessedly cool.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Gojo’s voice comes, after the two of you have spent a few minutes simply breathing deep and satisfied down the line at one another. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you either,” you murmur, a smile on your face that leaks through into your tone. Gojo’s own smile is obvious when he speaks, too;

“Thanks, dollface. I think I’ll get a good night’s rest now.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo thirst #not sfw #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk posting #jjk writing #Anonymous

498 notes · View notes

imagineredwood · 3 years

Text

🍒 The Lingerie 🍒

Summary: EZ and Amaya are trying to see who will be able to make the other one cave first when it comes to sex, and she has a trick up her sleeve.

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Amaya (OC)

Warnings: Sexual content, teasing nothing else really

Word count: 2.3K

A/N: Look at me actually getting a story out that I wanted to do and not forgetting lmao

Edit: Tell me why I said she was gonna pull her panties to the side like he asked and then proceeded to write her taking them off 💀 I fixed it

Amaya grinned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, turning to get a look at her ass in the lingerie. The pink was bright and electric against her skin, the material form fitting and clinging to every curve and solve of her backside. She nodded as she admired herself.

“Stunning.”

Turing back around to face the mirror now, she looked herself over one more time before leaving the bedroom and heading into the living room. EZ was due to be back any minute now and she was just counting down until she could surprise him. He had been busy this week, so much so that she had barely been on the receiving end of his attention, much less his affection.

Sure, he sent her texts through out the day, checking in on her and letting her know that he was ok. Every now and then her phone would buzz, and she’d look down to see he had sent a simple heart emoji or the kiss. While those were adorable and romantic considering his lifestyle, but sometimes she wanted more. She was head over heels in love with the youngest Reyes brother, and the golden boy knew it.

And so the teasing had started, poking playful fun at how quick she was to jump his bones, as if he wasn’t just as enthusiastic when he initiated with her. It had turned into a bet then, to see who would be the first to crack and jump on the other. Both were confident that they could win of course, but Amaya knew that despite how fine EZ was, she had this one in the bag. The Mayan had started off playing dirty though.

The first night he had decided that despite usually sleeping in jeans like a heathen, he was going to actually wear briefs to bed. That had almost broken Amaya’s resolve immediately, but she had managed to keep it together, ignoring he way the white material stretched over his thighs and another noticeable area. Then he had decided to ditch the flannels for the day and had gone back to his trusty cut off under his kutte, arms and veins on full display. Once again, Amaya had managed to keep it together.

But last night he had taken it too far, when he had facetimed her out of the blue. She was nearly asleep, already dressed for bed and sleepy eyed. He had stayed at the trailer, far too exhausted to ride home to stay the night with her after the long day across the border. He had called her, his face popping up on the screen making her beam. She had answered quickly, happy to see his face and hear his voice. Her happiness had quickly been muddied by arousal though as she took in the sight of him. He was topless as he laid there, one arm folded behind his head while the other held the phone at his face. Amaya had squeezed her thighs together at the sight but figured she would fight fire with fire.

So she pretended she didn’t notice. EZ knew that his chest and arms were her weakness, and he knew that was the way to crack her, but she wasn’t budging. And he kept trying, folding one arm across his chest, then stretching it above his head, his bicep on full display.

Nothing.

He’s knew he had to use extreme measures then and had dropped the tone of his voice, letting the low rumble that he knew she loved so much out as he palmed himself, telling her how much he missed her, how he couldn’t wait until he was home tomorrow to taste her. He had riled her up, had her breathing faster and then just as quickly as it had begun, it ended.

‘Well, I gotta go to sleep querida. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.’

And then he had really ended the facetime, leaving her there wet and frustrated. She had taken care of herself, of course, but it wasn’t the same, and she knew that if he was gonna play dirty then so was she.

That’s where this new bright pink set came in. She was dressed to impress, everything shaved smooth and moisturized. She had put on his favorite dark cherry scented perfume when she had gotten out of the shower, pairing it with her custom shimmer lotion to make sure her skin glowed at every angle. Now all there was left to do was wait for him to get home. She knew that she was going to win, it was just a matter of how long it would take for EZ to crack. Not long, if the thong and heels she wore were any indication. They were two of EZ’s favorite things to see her in and she had paired them tonight to concoct his kryptonite.

She was pouring herself a drink as she waited, the low rumble of his bike able to be heard in the distance. She smirked to herself, grabbing her glass of pink Moscato for the aesthetic and putting it to the side as she cut up some cheese and salami.

She had her back to the door when EZ walked into her apartment, putting together her snack tray. Using the key she had given him to unlock the door, EZ could hear her moving around in the kitchen, her music playing as always, and called out to her like he usually did.

“I’m here, Maya.”

“In the kitchen, baby.”

The Mayan followed her voice into the kitchen and his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he laid eyes on her. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she smiled brightly, acting as if she was just wearing sweats and a t-shirt.

“Welcome home, mi amor.”

She walked up to him and left a kiss to his lips before raising her hand, holding a little cracker stacked with a cube of cheese and the salami up to his mouth. He let her feed it to him, his eyes still on her in awe of how beautiful she looked. She grinned as he ate the snack, brushing the crumbs out of his beard, and then just like that she was turning around and walking back into the kitchen where the tray she had set up was sat.

EZ however stood like a statue in the same place, trying to fight the rush of blood that was heading south, but it was no use. He was already half-hard, and he knew right then that he had lost. No way was he going to be able to keep his hands off of her. Not when she looked so good. Finally breaking out of his trance, he walked across the kitchen, sliding up behind her. He pressed himself against her back, the hardness tucked away in the front of his jeans obvious as it pressed into her lace covered behind. She smirked, though he couldn’t see it, and played dumb.

“Good day?”

EZ sucked his teeth, not entertaining the games and bushed her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss up along the right side of her neck.

“Don’t act like you don’t know you already won.”

At that, Amaya chuckled.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about, sir.”

EZ laughed and nuzzled into her neck, hands wandering over her hips and tummy, the tips of his fingers brushing over her lace covered mound.

“That’s a lie, but I’ll let it go since you look so good.”

He was turning her around then, taking the cracker from her hand and tossing it down onto the counter before bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck. She obliged and held onto her man, acrylics scratching at his scalp softly.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were hitting on me.”

EZ shook his head at her playfulness, his own fingers tampering with the straps that hooked into her garters.

“Oh, I’m definitely hitting on you.”

He was pressing his mouth against hers quickly then, done with the charade. He kissed her hungrily, not caring about the gloss he could feel smearing against his own lips. His hands were reaching behind her, grasping right below her ass on the backs of her thighs and lifting. She hopped and wrapped her legs around his hips, holding onto him as he walked with her to her bedroom. She grinned as they made their way, the Mayan dropping her down onto the bed gently. She got up on her knees and sat there like that, looking up at him as he started stripping down. He was naked soon enough and she motioned to him with her finger. Always good at listening, EZ got into the bed with her and laid down, Amaya quickly settling on top of his naked form. She leaned down for a kiss before sitting back, hips moving and swaying both in time with the music and just with what felt best.

EZ sighed in both happiness and pleasure, letting her do what she wanted for the time being. He watched as she grinded down on him, her hands grasping at her breasts as he sang along. She reached down and unhooked the garment from the garters, pulling it up and over her head leaving her in just the bright bubblegum pink thong. EZ cursed under his breath, unable to keep his hands to himself anymore.

“Fuck, you look so good mama.”

He ran his hand over her right breast, the very tips of his fingers tracing over her nipple before continuing up. He slid his hand over her throat, Amaya tossing her head back to give him all the room he needed. He held his hand around her throat softly for a moment, squeezing ever so gently before letting it slide back down between the valley of her breasts and over her tummy. He was growing harder and harder under her, his bare cock growing sensitive at the material of her panties. He reached for the thin strap on her hip, tugging at it gently as he looked up at her.

“Want me to take them off?”

He shook his head, eyes hungry and leaving no room for argument.

“No. Just pull em to the side.”

Amaya obeyed and slipped the thong over to the right, exposing herself. She placed her hands on his chest and ran them along the ridged muscles, a soft moan slipping from her lips. EZ smirked, his own hands going down, one to hold onto her ass while the other lined himself up with her opening.

“Not being such a brat now, huh?”

Amaya shook her head with a sly smile, needy for him.

“No. I need you too much. I can resume later though.”

EZ chuckled and then lifted his hips, pushing up into her and groaning as her warmth enveloped him. She moaned, squeezing him tightly with both her hands and her walls.

“God, you always feel so good.”

She let her eyes slip closed as she began to ride him, her ass bouncing every time she sunk down on him. She kept her hands on his shoulders, fingers tensing as she reveled in the pleasure he brought her. EZ simply kept his eyes on her the entire time, loving to watch her face as she took what she needed from him. With as much as he wanted to drag this out, he needed to feel her squeezing and pulsing around him and reached his hand down to rub his thumb along her clit. Amaya whimpered and removed her hands from his chest, leaning back instead with her hands braced on his thighs. The angle alone had her quivering, but the added stimulation of his thumb on her clit had her release visible on the horizon and EZ knew it.

“Good girl. There you go.”

Amaya smiled at the praise, EZ always one to make her feel uplifted no matter what she was doing. Her hips stuttered for a moment and EZ reached for her, bringing her forward to rest against his chest. Her walls clenched around him in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was about to do. Tucking her arms underneath herself, she laid on his chest as EZ bent his knees and put his feet flat on the bed, his hips pistoning up into her now. She cried out, the feeling almost too much as he bottomed out inside of her. He was carefully, as always, but give her everything he had until she was clenching around him like a vice, small tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as her Old Man hurled her over the edge. EZ groaned and growled, his hold on her almost bruising as he finished, painting her within.

He let his legs fall back down flat to the bed, his body relaxing from its tensed state. He held onto Amaya lazily with one arm, the other tossed onto the sheets at his side. Amaya breathed heavily as she tried to take in the air she had lost during her orgasm, cuddling deeply into the crook oh his neck the way she always did after they finished. EZ grinned tiredly, reaching up to hold onto the back of her head softly.

“You good, mi vida?”

She was still to spent to response verbally, simply throwing a lazy thumbs up at him. He chuckled and turned with her, both on their sides now as they looked at each other. EZ reached forward, running his fingers up and down her shoulder as he conceded.

“I gave in kinda quick, didn’t I.”

Amaya laughed and nodded in agreement.

“Of course you did.”

“Can’t help it with you.”

She smiled lovingly and EZ returned it, both looking down as her stomach growled suddenly. EZ pulled her to sit up with him then, tugging her hand as he began to climb out of the bed.

“Let’s take a shower and then we can go eat that fancy lunchable you made.”

Amaya taglist @buttercup812 @noz4a2 @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @morena-barbie @thesandbeneathmytoes @joannasteez

#ez x amaya #ez reyes x black!oc #ez reyes x afro Latina oc #Ez Reyes #Mayans MC #mayans imagine #mayans fx #imagines

207 notes · View notes

expertofpossession · 4 years

Text

Your imaginary friends come back to haunt you - REPOST

*I don’t own any of it* Can be request to be removed.

Josh parked his car, stepped out and looked at the house before him. “I’m home again” he said. It had been a while since 25 year old Josh had visited his old home after going to college. He hadn’t seen his dad or his two brothers in all this time but now it was summer break and Josh was all too keen to take the time to travel back to his old stomping grounds. He rang the doorbell and a moment later the door was opened by Josh’s dad Marcus; a rather muscular and beefy gentleman with a buzzcut.

“Joshua! How are you? Come in, come in. Your brothers are just in the den.” Marcus’ excitement was infectious. “Thanks dad. I’m great and it’s good to see you! Can’t wait to see Danny and Travis” Josh replied. “Go on ahead. I’ll bring your bag in for you.” Marcus said cheerfully. The house was just as Josh remembered it; rustic, wooden but charming and cozy, and Josh easily found his way to the den as if he’d never left. Once there he was greeted by his brothers playing video games. There was Danny, the middle brother, sitting down in a tight red tank showing off his guns and his pecs that were nicely emphasised. “Yo little Joshy back from college! Check it out Travis. Josh’s arrived!”

Travis sat up from lying on a mattress. Travis was the oldest and most manly looking brother. He was shirtless, exposing his hairy chest and beefy arms. On his lower body, he was wearing sweatpants which hid his tight butt but revealed a thick dick hiding beneath, something that Josh couldn’t help but notice. “Well hey little bro. How’re you doing!?” said Travis as he wrapped his arm around Josh and gave him a friendly noogie. “Great to see you again bro!” Josh said as he took himself out from under Travis’s sweaty arm. Marcus then appeared in the doorway. “Alright you rowdy kids, settle down. We’re just gonna have lunch in a while so feel free to freshen up in your old room and set your stuff out” “Will do dad” and with that, Josh headed upstairs into his old room. Once there, Josh stepped into his bathroom, stripped his clothes and started up the shower. Now Josh was left alone with his thoughts…which wasn’t great. Now that Josh was here, he felt a bit depressed. The reason Josh had been so eager to see his father and brothers again was…because he kind of had a thing for them. For a young gay man like himself, his family were the epitome of manliness and studliness that Josh had only dreamed of. But he knew he could never have his dream. Josh finished cleaning his bod and stepped out of the shower with a sigh. Well there wasn’t much to do but just try to enjoy being with family, he thought. He took his personal can of deodorant, gave his underarms a good spray then slipped on some shorts and a tanktop. He wasn’t as buff as any of him family members but for a young boy, Josh was a pretty handsome, fit and clean dude, and hey, if he couldn’t enjoy his family members bods, at least he could enjoy his own. “Niiice” he purred to his reflection. “Thank you” came a cackling reply from out of nowhere. Josh could see a thin ghost’s face pop through his own, laughing as it’s hands reached around and jiggled Josh’s pecs through his top. Startled, Josh backed away, out into his bedroom and fell back onto his bed. He could only stare as a trio of ghosts followed and hovered over him. “Well well well, look at our Josh now. Not such a little fleshie anymore. He’s gotten bigger now.” said the tallest and thinnest ghost. “Bigger and prettier too. Looks like he might even be able to fit me now, and then I’d be the pretty boy hehehe” bellowed the fattest ghost, jiggling as he laughed. “He could do without the sickly sweet smell though. What happened to the kid that liked rolling around in the mud?” whined the last ghost who was the smelliest. “Wh-who are you!?” cried Josh, afraid of what these…things might do to him. “Whaaaat? You don’t remember us. That hurts Joshy-boy” said the thin ghost. “Yeah, don’t you remember all the great meals we had fleshie?” moaned the fat ghost. “Or all those times in the mud. Remember the mud?” the stinky ghost chimed in. “What are you talking about!? How do you know my name? Who are you?” Josh was so confused. “Let us reintroduce ourselves. We’re the Ghostly Trio. Stretch, Stinky and Fatso” said the thin ghost as he and the others posed together. Suddenly, the names and poses triggered something deep within Josh. Memories bubbled to the surface. Memories of a little boy playing with his trio of imaginary friends, eating cake together, trekking through the rain and getting dirty together. These were them. They were Josh’s imaginary friends. “But…you couldn’t be…you’re not real.” We’re real as the skin on your bones fleshie. Believe it or not” said Stretch. Josh shaked, “ No…n-no you’re not. You’re not real. I made you up” “Don’t be like that. We had such a good time being your friends Josh. Sorry we had to up and leave ya one day but we promise we are real. Honest” pleaded Fatso with a puppy dog eyes. Still Josh sat still in shock and panic. “…Go away.” he said. “Come on Josh” said Stretch softly. Josh yelled, “GO AWAY!” The Ghostly Trio backed off. “I need to think…Leave me alone.” Josh retreated back into his bathroom and closed the door. Left alone, the trio sadly floated down the stairs. “Man, after all this time, he finally comes home. I thought he’d be happy to see us. I know we are.” said Stretch. “Yeah, now that he’s older, we could’ve gone to a buffet or somethin’ like that.” Fatso said sadly. Stinky piped up. “Well it has been forever and he ‘is’ older. What can we do to make him like us again?” Stretch’s expression brightened when he heard Stinky’s words. “You know somethin’? You’re absolutely right. Joshy-boy is older now. And that means we can have some ‘adult’ fun right boys?” Fatso and Stinky looked confused but they caught on quick. “Hehehehe. I’m ready for this.�� chuckled Fatso. “You know boys, we never met Josh’s family. Let’s introduce ourselves properly…shall we? Back down in the kitchen, Marcus was dishing up a salad as Danny and Travis set the table. “Hey Danny, mind finishing this bowl up? I’m just going to the outside fridge to get some meat” called Marcus. “Sure thing pops.” Danny said back. Marcus left out the back door as Danny and Travis made their way into the kitchen but something was wrong. “Geez, no offense old man but are you sure this is fresh fruit? Smells like something died in here” muttered Danny to himself. “Maybe it’s your B.O bro? Haven’t been cleaning up after hitting your gains huh?” Travis said grinning. “Whatever man. You’re the one that sweats buckets from your armpits every time we do chest and arms.” fired back Danny. “You’re right though. I’ll see if there’s any more fruit in the fridge.” said Travis as he went over and opened the fridge. Danny leant over and smelled the salad bowl. “Damn, it really does smell rotten” “Sorry bout that but thanks for noticin’” came Stinky’s voice from behind him. Before Danny had any time to even let out a gasp, let alone turn around, he felt something rubbery penetrate his butt through his shorts.

He felt Stinky dive through his tight bum and move into his bod, filling and expanding inside him. Danny jerked around and spasmed as he felt himself lose control of his body to this thing inside him. Stinky moved up through Danny’s tight abs, up into his pecs then filled out his big hunky arms like he was slipping on a suit. Danny his arms swing down and as they did, his leg muscles burst and jiggled as Stinky filled them in. The sensation immediately made him pop a boner which was swiftly filled by Stinky’s ectoplasm. All that was left was for Stinky to fill Danny’s wildly swinging head and once that was done, a boom came from Danny’s stomach and he was in Stinky’s control. “Mmmmmmm yeeeeeaaaaah” he said as he felt his muscles and rubbed his hands underneath his tanktop. Finally Travis turned around with a bag of fruit in hand to see Danny feeling himself. “Bro, what the hell are you doing?” At that moment, Stretch burst out of the bag. “Don’t worry about him. Worry about yourself bonebag.” he cackled. Travis dropped the bag, stunned as Stretch flew around him, circling him around his head, down around his torso until he got to his waist, where he dived into his underwear and started to pump into Travis’s dick.

Travis groaned as he felt his dick expand and grow. It was such a erotic and pleasurable moment. Soon Stretch had sucked his tail into Travis’s body and began filling him up. Travis’s voice became muffled as his mouth filled with ectoplasm. “MMMMMMFFFFFF” moaned Travis as he felt Stretch get big and hard inside his muscular bod. He felt his pecs expand with ectoplasm and his legs and arms shot out as Stretch filled them up. Travis tried to remain in control but his body just spun and shook wildly as Stretch took him over. With another boom, Travis was no longer in control. His face wore Stretch’s signature smirk. “Yeaaaahh. Check out this hunky fleshie.” Stretch moved over and smacked Stinky’s sexy butt. “Turn around so I can get a good look at ya.” Stinky smiled and turned.

He then pulled Stretch in and kissed him passionately. “Mmmmm, soooo sweaty and big. Just the way I like em.” Stinky said. Stretch pulled off Stinky’s tanktop and stuck his hands down Stinky’s shorts rubbing and pulling his dick while Stinky rubbed Stretch’s buff, hairy chest. At that moment, Marcus walked back in carrying a large roast chicken and saw his two boys making out. “What the hell is going on here!!?” And then the chicken was lifted out of his hands as Fatso appeared. “What’s going on is that you’ve bought a snack” He said as he devoured the chicken whole. “And now to move on the main course. Heheheheh” Marcus started to scream and Fatso took that oppourtunity to dive his fat form into his gaping mouth. “MMMMFFFGMMMFF” Fatso bounced and jiggled as he tried to pump himself into Marcus’s body as Marcus could only groan and try to push him back. It was useless as Fatso sucked in his gut and slid down Marcus’s throat creating a large bulge as he went. Booming all through Marcus’s jiggling and bouncing body, it didn’t take long for Fatso to possess him and soon Marcus’s buff bod was all Fatso’s.

“Now come on guys, let me join in the fun.” And as Fatso took off his clothes, he started to make out with his fellow fleshies. Meanwhile, Josh was coming downstairs having heard the commotion. He just now saw the incredible sight of his family, naked, jacking each other off and making out.

364 notes · View notes

smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Innocence - Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody x Reader (Animal Kingdom)

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale

GIF CREDIT: X

‘This is gonna be one hell of a night, I know you want it...’ ~ Kim Petras, There Will Be Blood.

Author’s Note: Basically, this is a fic in response to #ThatOneFic on AO3. I got a little bit of ‘if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em.’ syndrome and then decided I was better than that. Could have written the one that’s in my drafts, but doing my Director’s Cut and then talking to everyone about it really got me like...

Why not start some probably not very good smut with murder, after all? 😉

Can I disclaimer myself? The notes for this (written, as tradition states at like, 3am) are just pure filth. And I was horrified reading them back. So yeah, you’re not... getting that, but you’re getting remnants of what it could have been...

Added 800 words during the editing process because he needed it. I’ll fight for my vision of Andrew one fic at a time...

Innocence - Halestorm

Disclaimer: AK nothing to do with me / Part inspired by my own Director’s Cut analysis of Andrew & further fic research / lyrics & gif not mine

Small ‘need to know’ info: David is a policeman, and readers oldest brother.

Premise: When a drugs deal goes awry on the wrong side of town, and the police on the case, Andrew has one place to go. You’re used to this behaviour, but there is something about that dangerous side of him you just can’t resist - and you don’t want him to hold back...

Words: 5639

Warnings: Swearing / Sex / Sinday/Sunday Smut / Drugs references

____ You see it from the outside You're running toward the wall Swinging from your blind side But you don't know me at all I've been here too many times before And your tears don't mean a thing I only come when you scream Is this what you wanted Did I make your dreams come true? You're sitting in a corner Wondering what you got into And you ache for things you don't understand That your tears don't mean a thing And I only come when you scream, I told you Child, don't follow me home You're just too perfect for my hands to hold If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away And I just want to take your innocence There's no such thing as fate Only yourself to blame You never walked away Child, don't follow me home You're just too perfect for my hands to hold If you choose to stay, you'll throw it all away And I just want to take your innocence

---

The scent of bleach filled the apartment; opening the front door gave you nothing more than an instant headache. You were lucky it didn’t make you gag, and you stood blinking for a few minutes – surely the feeling of your eyes stinging was only phycological?! Slipping your bag from your shoulder you exhaled deeply, followed by an inhale you instantly regretted, groaning and dragging a hand over your face. There could only be one culprit. What the hell had he done this time? He was probably long gone by now, tidied away and back home “ANDREW!” This was certainly more a cry of frustration to yourself; it wasn’t like you’d actively get mad at someone so volatile. This time you were met by an answer, coming from vaguely the direction of your bathroom. “Okay. But it wasn’t my fault this time.” You jumped immediately, dropping your bag, hand to your heart. “Geez! Are you incapable of giving me anything other than a heart attack!?!” Instead of being verbally answered, the man himself appeared; the white shirt and black slacks were ill fitting. Like he’d just grabbed the first possible thing he could from some shelf or other. Judging by the sizing, they were likely your brother David’s. Your eyes instantly narrowed; only one reason Andrew wouldn’t be wearing his own clothes. “What the fuck did you do?” He held both his hands up, the attempt to stop you from jumping to conclusions clearly not working by your unimpressed face: “Got caught in the crossfire, that’s all.” You folded your arms, daring him to pull the other: “Oh yeah, my whole apartment smells like bleach because you got caught in the crossfire.” His face was deadly serious: “You can’t expect me not to retaliate now, can you.” Your body’s instant reaction to that was to move away from him, but your jerk away was not followed by a step back, “So you did kill someone.” His eyes flicked over your shoulder for a split second, “Not exactly.” “Andrew!” “Would you rather I was dead?” He touched his hand to his chest, immediately making you defensive. “Don’t say things like that--!” Of course not, you never liked thinking that it was a distinct possibility. The corporate world of the men you used to date – of the man you almost married – was a million miles from the one standing in front of you right now. Andrew turning up here unannounced was not unusual, but it usually meant something had pushed him here. It was that thought that prompted your next question; “What happened?” “Drugs run gone wrong.” Too blunt. You opened you mouth, eyes going point a-z - you weren’t really looking at anything, you just didn’t want to look into his eyes when you knew all they’d show was how deadly serious he was – “You know, sometimes I wish you’d be just a little more subtle with me, Andrew.” You shook your head “But, I know that’s not your strong suit.” He gave a shrug, “You asked. Usually you don’t want to know.” “Yeah well, now I wished I hadn’t.” You indicated to your bathroom, “What state is it in?” “It’s fine.” You pushed passed him with a huff; “I’ll be the judge of that!” You couldn’t actually stand in there for more than a few seconds at a time, but when finally you deemed it safe, you couldn’t help but conclude that he was right. Even if he was on thin ice. “How much damn blood was there for you to need that much bleach?” Andrew gave you a single slow blink; “I like to be thorough.” There was an edge to his voice that sent a shudder up your spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Yeah, you knew that. “Did you come all the way up to my apartment in blood stained clothes?!” “Not exactly.” “This I don’t want to hear.” “I know there’s cameras. I know the blind spots and trust me, no one saw me.” That was about the only thing he’d said so far you did trust. Andrew was far too good at this – if he said no one saw him, then no one saw him. Or they were already sworn to silence. “And your clothes are where?” Because if they weren’t in a dumpster about 6 miles away, you’d throttle him yourself. “Oh no, you-” “It better not have been a shirt I liked!” This blink meant nothing, and his face remained stoic. So it probably was, now doused in someone else’s blood. Vital evidence, of course. You sighed and stepped towards him, “The police?” “Drug land wars. It’s gonna look like exactly what it was.” “Promise me this isn’t traceable?” “It wasn’t our side of town. But you know that means nothing.” “A…Andrew…” You took his face in your hands, beneath your fingertips the tiny litter of scars you could still feel, but not see. His body was littered with such marks – you doubted he’d ever consider healing properly before he was off to the next big ‘adventure’. “Tell me you’re gonna be okay?” He placed his hands gently on your waist, but shook his head, “I can’t. You know that.” Andrew would stretch the truth, perhaps even lie by omission; but never blatantly. Not to you – not to someone who cared about him in the way you did. You shook your head, fingers holding him a little firmer before you placed your forehead to his: “I’m just glad you’re safe.” It was all you could say, but you meant it. It could have been his blood all over someone else’s clothes, with their significant other now holding them the way you were holding him. Instead they were likely getting news that the person they loved was dead, and you got to feel Andrew Cody breathe. He wasn’t holding you like a man who loved you, you weren’t even close. You weren’t about to unpick his feelings right this second, but you knew exactly what that meant. “You can’t stay, can you?” He shook his head again, slowly, detaching himself from you. “Not today.” Not I’m sorry, not I love you, just not today. His brothers were at the scene, but Andrew was the one that was in trouble. You wondered if that meant he should be staying – or if he thought staying would put you in danger. This was meant to be his safe house… then again, maybe he needed to get back to his family. Andrew had a knack for disappearing by coming to you – for exactly that reason, no one would think to look for him in this part of town – if the Cody’s didn’t know where he’d got to, they’d be facing chaos. You weren’t about to tell him that his presence god-knows-how-long later dressed in someone else’s clothes probably would only add to that. “If you need me…” “I’ll come back.” He only gave a single nod, those blue eyes telling nothing but the truth. Andrew let you steal a single kiss before he was heading toward your front door, he opened it without a word, pausing only to half raise his hand to say goodbye. You wanted to tell him you loved him, it didn’t seem like an appropriate moment, and with a last lingering look your apartment door closed, leaving you alone. You let out another breath, this time loud as it built into a groan, hands running into your hair: ‘What the fuck am I doing!?’

***

You weren’t exactly in the know on this type of thing, and living across Melbourne in your apartment, you saw Andrew by arrangement, or when he chose to see you. Crime in Melbourne didn’t interest you until it had to – and half the time it was only because he forced your hand. A shoot out on the wrong side of town attracted the attention of the police. The Cody’s weren’t in favour with the police at the best of times, so this only made the cops go haywire. You were none the wiser, but the boys knew it. The law would be all over them – Baz was surprised that they weren’t already, and to counteract this, quickly managed to set a plan in motion. Although it was enacted with an air of panic. “Alright! This time we take no chances, its lockdown. We can’t go anywhere; we move slow and cautious and don’t do anything.” Baz stilled and thought for a moment before turning to his friend, the most likely candidate to get into the wrong kind of trouble. They’d all been there, sure, but it was Andrew the police would come down hardest on. “If we do, we gotta stay put – if necessary, hide. Pope, that means you-!” Craig and Darren immediately began arguing about “How can the house be safe!?” and Baz had the job of reasoning about alibis and how they usually got out of this with help from Ezra, commonly - without evidence - nothing went anywhere… and trying to knock some sense into their panic. Andrew wasn’t hearing any of this, instead he just sat calmly, eyes on a fixed spot – staying here wasn’t his only option. In fact, it was an option he’d rather not take. He stood, wandering off to his bedroom, exiting barely a minute later with a bag. At this point the others realised that he was in fact, leaving, and their yelling after him didn’t cause a turn back. Andrew Cody left without a word. “Andrew!! POPE! Where the HELL do you think you’re going man?!” Baz was too preoccupied with his friend to bother holding the other two back, and yet they didn’t attempt to chase their older brother. He knew the answer that Andrew wouldn’t give; “Y/N.” Darren turned to him with wide eyes; “Is that even safe-!?!” Baz thought that was doing you a disservice as a head strong city girl, you knew what you were getting into. You knew who Andrew was. “Man, I don’t even know where she lives. It’s perfect. After all, who is gonna ask a girl - who barely knows the names of three drugs - where the hell Andrew Cody is. She’s the last place you’d think to look...”

They all heard the car engine start, and as it pulled from the drive they were left in silence. “Should we stop him?” “Nope. It’s not worth it. Pope’s made his choice, best he lay low and out of it for now.” Craig tipped nearly his entire body as he mused his thought; “How did he even get her anyway!?!” Baz frowned, “It’s not about how he got her,” Although he was sure he knew the answer to that, “it’s about how he’s keeping her.” “Fear?” Baz was almost worried that that was Darren’s gut answer and shook his head firmly. “No. No that’s not it. Pope wouldn’t hurt her.” “You sure about that. He’s got pretty violent tendencies...” This particular incident was a case in point. “No. Because she really WOULD leave.” Unless it was truly accidental; you’d kicked him out for drugs – he lay a hand on you (in a way you didn’t like; he’d seen the scratches and bruises that often adorned your hips that you seemed to like showing off sometimes) Baz wouldn’t think you’d be incapable of calling the cops yourself. That wasn’t a thought he liked. “Oh, she loves him, dearly…” “So what is she to him?” There was a tone of disgust in Craig’s voice, Baz gave him a significant look, “At the very least, a safer space than he’ll ever have here.”

** Weekends alone were nice. You liked waking in someone’s arms, you liked wasting your time on nothing, maybe you’d be treated to a walk somewhere, but it was likely that if Andrew was staying the weekend, you’d not leave your apartment. But alone you could very nearly sleep the whole thing away, eat whenever you wanted – maybe do a grocery store snack run, see your friends at all your favourite Melbourne coffee bars, take your car up to your parents for the weekend to see the kids… but staying under the covers with nothing but your dreams was the priority. And given that the smell of bleach was finally completely dissipating from your apartment, tonight was the best you slept in days. However, when you woke this morning you weren’t alone. Which was fine either way, your boyfriend had a key and this behaviour wasn’t uncommon, but he was not beside you in bed. Rather, standing at the foot of it staring at you. Andrew Cody wasn’t even blinking, and the only thing that would indicate that he wasn’t a statue, was the rise and fall of his chest for every breath he took. He’d been here for a while, simply observing your sleeping form, your movements and your breathing; Andrew didn’t want to wake you when the dreams seemed good. He didn’t scare you, or make you jump. If anything his presence made you feel a little safer, but by the indication of your clock it was nearly midday… what was he doing here? You flattened yourself out onto your back as you stared right back at him, but his eyes didn’t hold yours very long, raking themselves down your body. The fluctuation of his breathing changed, and you could read that like a book. This man was clearly DTF. And although you couldn’t possibly believe that Andrew would make the journey across the city just for that, it wasn’t out of Andrew’s remit. “What?” Your voice was still soft as you pushed yourself up with your arms so you sat. “Andrew? Baby, what?” Your pulse was elevating to meet the look on his face, the hunger in his eyes. Clearly your body was more than happy to read the signals of his and be roused from its dreams to give signals of its own. Your tongue danced across your bottom lip as you lowered your gaze to the rest of Andrew’s body. You couldn’t deny that you could feel the rise in your arousal and this time, as his eyes came up to meet yours again, your body tingled under the weight of his stare. You wanted him right now too. “C’mere.” You encouraged him, tipping your body back to rest on your hands, head inclined. Andrew didn’t need more than that invitation, crawling onto the bed, hands either side of you. You could hear his breathing now, and he was close, but still not touching you. You continued watching the way he was still staring at your body, the change to the colour of his eyes – he was putting too much thought into this and it was torture. Andrew inhaled you, and you could almost feel the heat coming from him. For a moment you realised you’d been forgetting to breathe, and as you did so your body gave a throb, stomach knotting deliciously. The scent of him covered you. With Andrew this close you didn’t think there was any going back from that. “Do you want me? Andrew? Babe? Do you want me? You can say it...” He still wasn’t looking at your face, and although his head movements were neither confirmation or denial, they were indecisive. With no verbal reaction, but consent certainly needed in order to continue, you closed that gap, grazing your lips to his cheek you nudged his head back just enough to ghost his lips. “I want you, too. Baby, I need you.” If he wouldn’t consent verbally, you would simply let him know you did. He immediately let out a growl, pushing you back into the sheets. Even if you expected kisses, you didn’t expect them to be this harsh and it was very nearly shocking – was Andrew only trying to hold himself back? He pinned you down; knees by your hips, feet between your legs. But you didn’t struggle against him, hands shooting to his shoulders and through his hair – Andrew didn’t pin your wrists. You could feel your hips widening for him – knowing immediately that you wanted him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to you. Shifting himself so that you were still pinned, Andrew pulled your underwear down your legs, discarding them. All the while his lips were still on yours and he wasn’t affording you much breathing room. Some would say this was too close, but this was just where he liked to be. His hands ran smoothly back up your thighs and your hips wiggled underneath his, looking for anything. Andrew answered you sooner than expected, clearly he wasn’t in the mood to wait for this, and slowed his hands to part your thighs just that little more. You immediately moaned into his kiss as Andrew ran his index finger teasingly through your folds. You knew he wouldn’t stop there, and you had to leave his lips in order to draw enough breath to whine as he circled your clit slow. Andrew freed you from being pinned just so you could feed your legs into a more comfortable position whilst still giving him access to you; already flushed, you knew he wouldn’t have to do much to work you up. Dipping his fingers into your arousal as he brushed his thumb across your clit, it wasn’t long before he pushed a finger inside you and even shorter before another joined it – widening you for him. You weren’t even sure you were fully awake yet and your mouth to brain filters hadn’t kicked in, hands shaking as you undid the buttons on your own shirt. “Fuck baby, I need you inside me. Oh, baby please, fuck me, hard. Harder. Edge me, tease me, make me yours.” Clearly neither of you were quite sure where that had come from by the look on his face, but if Andrew thought that was what you wanted, that was what he would give you. Andrew knew what the way you were talking was doing to him as he undid his belt and jeans; it was weird to hear out of your mouth sure, but you were only succeeding in turning him on even more. He removed his fingers from you and thrust in with more force than you expected – causing you to cry out again; not entirely in pain. He growled, lips to your neck as his nails dug into your hips, you pulled his body closer, locking your legs behind him. You drew Andrew deeper; but that was exactly where you wanted him. Here we go with another set of bruises I luckily never have to explain… No trips to the beach for another week, then. If this was back at his, if he’d have called you and asked you to come over – which wasn’t often but it did happen - then this would have to be quiet, and you got the feeling that he was going to be so rough with you that it would be impossible to be silent. But also Andrew liked it when you weren’t – he liked hearing the sounds that he was capable of drawing from you. For just a second he placed his head against yours, and that single kiss was gentle; you thought you were already breathless, perhaps in anticipation, but still managed to say it: “Baby, I will be as loud as you want.” It didn’t take long before you were blissfully sighing his name, moaning and arching you back into him and the travel of his hands. You had to admit you were insanely turned on, but also, in your house you could turn the volume to 10, because that’s what he enjoyed. Andrew didn’t hurt you when you had sex, it wasn’t something that occurred to him; sure he held you tight enough to leave marks and scratches, but he wasn’t actively hurting you. So him being this rough was an unusual experience. But Andrew also didn’t usually talk, beyond the occasional phenomena of his own quiet sighs, and his whispers of your name. So, you weren’t sure if you had unlocked or awakened something in him that was always there, but he never knew you wanted, or Andrew was simply playing into your request – but the threatening growl in his voice as he spoke basically had you doing as he commanded on the spot, “I’m gonna make you cum over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and then when you can’t take it any more I’ll finally cum for you.” You whimpered your ‘what!?’ in such a way that it didn’t even sound like a word – your fingers clinging onto him and tangling into his shirt for dear life as he continued his reckless rhythm inside you. You felt too high on the feeling of him fucking you, but you would take him at his word – that was exactly what Andrew was going to do, unless you told him to stop. And he would, if he didn’t want to hurt you, he would. He'd be out the door faster than he could apologise if not. Did you want him to stop, was the question? Instead you responded in kind; “Fuck me Andrew. Do whatever you want with my body, it’s yours.”

Andrew didn’t say anything unless it was worth saying, unless he meant it (at least sober) - that was like an unwritten rule. Although maybe with you like this he wasn’t entirely sober, ever. But it felt so heat of the moment and foreign to him - what he was telling you wasn’t calculated… it wasn’t even truly blunt information but it turned you on. And that clench of your muscles around him was something that he could feel. The same way he could feel your pulse under his fingertips, and your warmth: that was your life, your heartbeat and it jumped with your excitement. The sound of it with the ticking of his watch; everything was suddenly so sensory to him. It ran wild the harsher he was with you and the harder you panted; desperate to take on more air. He didn’t have to associate that sound with life, either, he knew that noise when taking it. Andrew wasn’t sure if he was supposed to find that sexy or not; but he thought he did.

Every little sign of your body was all he needed; Andrew could pay attention to that minutia of detail, whether it be the sounds you made, or the shake that you fought so hard against, the movement of your body under his, how it felt to have your fingertips glide over him, for your lips to press into his skin, smaller tensions of resistance… but also how it felt to be inside you - how being a little rough and talking a little dirty seemed only to make you wetter, a little tighter, a lot more desperate for him - as if suddenly all your senses had heightened too. Maybe this was just something you both needed. But all of this was bringing you pleasure - that’s what mattered most. That Andrew was bringing you something positive; HE was doing this to you. He didn’t know why you stuck around; he gave you plenty of reason to leave. But you proved a point, even if really you knew you were only proving it to yourself; that Andrew Cody could make a positive impact on people’s lives. You wanted nothing more than to desperately confirm to him that he wasn’t just some tool his family could use for violence without mercy. Andrew could be this for someone; a life partner, needed, wanted, loved... And it wasn’t just you - but the way your whole family felt about him; Andrew deserved a real family.

He watched the sweat dance on your skin for a minute, acutely aware of the way your nails were digging into him; “Andrew, PLEASE, give me more-!” You weren’t just a someone though. You were you. You of all the damn people in this city, let alone the world. You could have anyone you wanted - you almost got married. Whether that man be long gone or not, occasionally it crossed Andrew’s mind that if it wasn’t for him coming into your life, your absolute fascination with him, the fact that this was practically an affair… you would be married right now; in some extravagant mansion in some fancy part of Melbourne. But you weren’t, you were with him - having loud rough sex in your apartment in a moment where you were thinking things didn’t get much better than that. Andrew proved to you that you didn’t have to settle for what you thought you wanted - but you could just as easily find what you really needed, even in the most unexpected of places. For Andrew, he couldn’t help but admit there was an excitement about the potential of corrupting someone not from his world, nor should have ever crossed the line into it. And yet here you were, beneath him.

He didn’t go back on any of his growled promises; and every time you came it felt different. Because this wasn’t just about one thing – not just the physical act; it was how you were feeling about him, and how Andrew felt for you. How he listened intently to what your body was telling him and changed it up - how you vocalised what you liked (and maybe when he got a little too rough). Emotions might have been hard to find in Andrew Cody but they were buried there somewhere, and they were real, and sometimes he gave you a glimpse of them. Even if it was just the look on his face right now, as you came for him again, and again, and again… The slight sympathy in his features as you begged him to cum for you, in short sharp breaths that he could really barely register as a sentence: hot and flushed and sweaty and spent… but his; completely his. Heart, Body, Mind and Soul. And Andrew didn’t need to look at the marks across your skin to know it.

By the time he did finally come undone inside you, your energy was completely drained, body shaking beneath his. You were both drenched in sweat and breathing hard – but every second had been worth it – and your body was singing from every single high you were still on. You couldn’t be sure you were even down from the first yet. You weren’t sure if your mental note should be: we should really do this again, or, we really should never do this again! So you’d put a pin in it for now, far too tired to do more than sift your fingers through his hair as he lay quietly on your chest listening to your heartbeat. Whatever that decision would be, you couldn’t help thinking on the fact that you wanted this more often, you would keep Andrew here if you could… If you thought that was ever possible. One day you’d work up the nerve to broach him moving in, for now you lay still and quiet. Now wasn’t the time… Now you just wanted to get lost in the way he made you feel. ** You had barely left the bed all weekend, if only to shower. (Which hardly ever turned out as innocent as it sounded). Usually exhausted, but hardly something to worry about. Andrew took good care of you. But he really had worn you out and after he’d set you on the sofa, so that he could change your sheets and tidy up, Andrew returned to your sleeping form. He tilted his head to watch you; remnants of that afterglow remained, smile on your face as your body curled up. Although you were tired you looked content, no worries. Exactly how Andrew wished he could keep you. You were with him though, so that certainly wasn’t easy. He stooped, arms under your body as he pulled you into him. You groaned gently as he tipped you, head against his chest. Andrew gave pause again as you immediately sought the warmth of his body with a sleepy hum. His head gave an involuntary little shake as he carried you back to your bedroom. Depositing you back on your bed to curl up once more, Andrew stopped in the doorway only to make sure you had settled, before he closed the door on you and continued his tidying. *** Andrew thought about simply leaving, maybe it would have calmed down at home, maybe he could find somewhere else to lay low… But, although you’d talked this weekend you’d never quite broached the subject of why he was here. It wasn’t something important to you, he supposed, it wasn’t something you’d ask probably because usually you’d get a blunt answer. You didn’t need to know. And yet maybe this time you did. You were still sleeping when he re-entered your bedroom, and Andrew settled on the bed to watch you this time. However, your body didn’t stir, as it had when he’d arrived; you were relaxed and peaceful. Andrew knew you enough to know that you slept pretty light usually, but you seemed a lot deeper in this time around. He was right, you were exhausted. Through good things, at least. He placed his fingers gently to your neck, searching for the run of your pulse… when he found it Andrew applied increasing pressure, it changed under his fingertips; manipulated by his exertion on you – but when he did this, he could feel it stronger. That was your life under his fingertips; something that he could so easily take from you. And that thought almost scared him, you walked a razors edge - balanced constantly - and yet never seemed to let it faze you. You stood up to him without fear that he could turn around and kill you, even though Andrew knew how aware you were of that possibility. Andrew supposed you just never let it cross your mind. That you wouldn’t allow yourself to believe that your relationship could ever end that way. He would keep it to himself, of course, but Andrew had an uneasy feeling this relationship would only end when one of you was dead. Uncomfortable with the applied pressure, your body woke you; Andrew withdrew his hand fascinated with the way you took on more air as you awoke. It really would be that easy… You stretched slowly and turned to him, “Oh… my god. I-” you glanced to the clock, “…I’m sorry.” “You needed it.” Andrew gave a nonchalant shrug. “I thought you might leave.” “I considered it.” He was still being blunt, you weren’t all that sure Andrew would recognise the difference and let you down softly: “…I might need to overstay my welcome.” You pulled yourself up, taking his hand in yours, “You are always welcome here. What happened?” He would take his leave, if there wasn’t a reason he couldn’t return home. “You know.” “The same as before? So the police are after you?” You said it with an undertone of ‘I told you so’. “Appears that way.” “And you’re gonna tell me what it’s about?” That was a rare event. “…I told you.” He indicated, “But-” and shuffling over to his things he presented you with a large polished wooden box. You were immediately unsure you were going to like this, and opened the lid cautiously, only at the last second realising now your fingerprints were on this thing. ‘David would scream at me!’ You blew out a breath at the contents, unable to quite raise your eyes to his. The entire box was filled with drugs, of various types, surely you couldn’t name them all, but pills, needles and powder were all present in various shapes and colours. Spoils of war? The darker patches of brown you could see around the edges of the box were saying blood to you. You were silent for a long while, before you said the first thing you could really think of, “This... is a lot.” A lot for me. “I know.” You weren’t sure he let your sentence settle enough for him to really know. You became sad for a minute, fingers dancing across the surface of the box as you closed it, unsure of what to do. What you were supposed to do with this information now. Andrew continued, deciding to take the leap of: “I can’t be what you want me to be.” You raised your head, with a blink and looked at him; clear and true, dead in the eye: “I don’t want you to be anything.” You had never wanted him to be anything, you knew exactly who he was. “You might be what they say you are, Andrew.” Not that you would know, being so out of the loop. But you’d seen enough, in your opinion far too much, “But that is not ALL you are.” I know you... I. Know. You. You could think of nothing else than to gather him to you, you didn’t care if he reciprocated or not – it was something you needed to do. Even if it was only for yourself. You buried your head in his shoulder, lacing yours fingers with his. Andrew wasn’t looking at you, he wasn’t even really giving you anything back. But he wasn’t pulling away from you either – and that was just as important. You rubbed his arm affectionately, running up to his collar. Those blue eyes trailed to yours; and you held him there. Your voice was gentle, voicing the only thing that really mattered to you in this moment – his own safety. “Stay as long as you need, we’ll get through this, we always do.”

You always would.

---

Thank yoooooou for reading! 💙💜

#Me: Making creepy stuff he does not creepy since 2K18 #ironic title? Yes. But also the song has an ironic title so...#Andrew Pope Cody #Animal Kingdom #Ben Mendelsohn #Andrew Cody #Sinday/Sunday #I've really never thought about the pulse thing. Fraser does it to his S/O but it makes SO much sense for Andrew to do it.#Much more dangerous #much more likely to steal it from her #Actually why have I never touched on that either.#Probably because it never occurs to me that he WOULD hurt her.#But he certainly could. Easily.#197 #Elaiyna #So... i'm having a ramble session with myself in the tags again. That's fun #Andrew Cody x Reader #Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader #Pope Cody x Reader #its funnier reading this back when I've written what I've written for Grace Too. And being like 'nah this is tame tbh'#I love the double meaning you can have with the /I only come when you scream/ line though.#Because for these two its pretty true #Y/N is only said once this entire fic and it's by Baz

50 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 3 years

Note

A Deidara/Ino (DeiIno) fic with “Zinnia” please. I know it’s a weird ship, but I think their strong personalities go well with the flower.

Hey, Anon! This is a really interesting ship :D The zinnia flower represents a number of things, including endurance, remembrance, and lasting friendship. So, I thought up an AU for the two of them. I hope you enjoy it!

“Hey.” His sky-blue eyes were wide and his expression solemn as he gazed intently at Ino. The rain pelted against the windows, making the street blur into watercolor smudges. Dew still clung to the many potted flowers littered around the shop from where Ino had watered them, and his shoulder-length blond hair and serious expression refracted in each little bead.“You won’t forget me, will you?”

Ino jolted awake with a snort. Her eyelashes flapped rapidly as she rose unceremoniously into consciousness, eyes hazy and unfocused beneath the thin platinum-blonde fibers. A sliver of drool leaked from her glossed lips to pool under her chin. Growing more lucid by the microsecond, she scowled at the gross, wet sensation of it clinging to her chin and wiped it away with her wrist, then cleaned the drool off onto her sundress. She’d fallen asleep manning the cash register at her parents’ flower shop… again.

“I just can’t help it,” she mumbled, slouching back over the counter and scooting the metal chair closer so as not to stretch out her back too far. With the pleasant aroma of a hundred flower species wafting on the air spilled down by the ceiling fans combined with the warm sunlight streaming through the many windows, it was nearly impossible not to be lulled into a doze. Ino could already feel her eyelids growing heavy again as she sat there, just staring at the colorful blooms in plastic pots. Yet she didn’t fall asleep, for she was thinking about the blond-haired, bright-eyed boy from her dreams.

How many years ago was that? Ten, maybe? she wondered with a small frown. A long time ago, for sure. Every summer since she was old enough to carry some semblance of responsibility, Ino had manned the flower shop for her parents when they had to run errands. Of course, back then she had only been eight, so she wasn’t left for more than a few hours at a time… Usually. That particular summer a surprise rainstorm had struck while her parents were out. A mudslide had covered the road back, leaving Ino stranded alone at the flower shop for hours. The cell towers had failed, meaning she had no idea where her parents were or if they were all right. She’d sat in the corner and cried, terrified for both her well-being and that of her parents, until she’d heard a tentative rapping on the door.

She’d never asked why he’d been wandering the rainstorm by himself; she just let him right in, more desperate to not be alone anymore than to do the right thing. He was wearing a bright duck-yellow raincoat the same shade as his sopping wet blond hair, and his blue eyes shone bright in the flashing lightning. She’d locked the door behind him, chewing her lip and growing shy to be in the presence of a stranger.

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked her, and she just nodded bashfully. The fear returned, causing tears to prick at the corners of her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry,” he smiled, and Ino fancied it was a nice smile indeed. He reached out with tender hands to thumb her tears away, replacing the salty brine with fresh rainwater. “I’m here now. We’ll weather the storm together.”

Ino jumped as a loud rumble of thunder snatched her from the embrace of sleep again. She jolted into a sitting position and looked at the rectangular window beside the counter, finding the street veiled by a waterfall stream of rain. The sunlight had faded, choked out by the thick gray storm clouds dumping the deluge of water to earth. She rose from the chair to walk to the window, trying to peer through the thick stream out at the street. She caught snatches of clear images— water puddling in wide rivers over the road, people running into the closest buildings with their jackets held up over their heads, lightning shooting like white snakes through the clouds.

Wow, what a storm, she thought with pursed lips. She rounded the counter to go to the front door, flipping the sign to “CLOSED” and locking it. No one would come out to buy flowers in this deluge; the wind would rip it to shreds, based on the way it whistled shrilly and rattled the glass. Ino grabbed her cellphone when she came back to the counter, pulling up her mother’s contact information and giving her a call.

“Hey, Mom. I just wanted to warn you that the weather’s gotten nasty over here. You and Dad should probably stay at the hotel another night.” She scraped the paint off the wood with her manicured nails as her mother’s worried voice buzzed through the other line. “No, no, I’m all right. I’ll wait for it to clear up, and if it doesn’t, I can sleep in the break room,” she said with a smile, trying to alleviate her mother’s worries. “Sure. Yeah, I’m fine, really! There’s food in the break fridge, and I can keep myself busy working on tomorrow’s call-in orders. Yeah, I love you too. Bye.”

She set the cellphone down on the counter with a small sigh. She tapped her nails against the wood, debating. She could get started on the call-in orders, but… there was something about the rain that lulled her into lethargy. She found her eyes drooping again already. Just a little nap…

She had just plunked down against the counter when she heard it: rapraprap.

“Huh?” she huffed, arms scrabbling over the counter as she jerked up. Her bleary eyes searched the gloom of the flower shop, watching the light play over the various colored petals and green leaves. The rapping sounded again, and this time she was lucid enough to realize that it was coming from the front door.

“Jeez, do they not see that we’re closed?” she huffed, pushing herself up from the chair. Her flats went whap-whap-whap against the floor as she walked around the counter towards the door. “Hey! We’re closed!” she shouted while she approached. She jabbed her finger purposefully toward the sign, and the slender man standing there lifted the bottom of his hood to flash her a charming smile. Piercing blue eyes danced beneath a swathe of bright yellow hair, and Ino sucked in a breath.

“Aw, you won’t even open for an old friend?”

A heartbeat, then another. Had she strayed into a dream? If it was, it was a shitty thing for her subconscious to do. She stepped closer to the glass, close enough for her breath to fog against the pane. Tentatively, she uttered, “Deidara?”

“The one and only, sweets.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest again.

“Hey, sweets, you like candy?” he asked, holding out a piece of taffy wrapped in white plastic. She had been sitting at a stool beside some roses for some time, sniffling. She was scared that her parents were out there injured, and she was stuck here. At least she wasn’t alone anymore. She took the taffy with trembling hands and unwrapped it, then popped the pink candy into her mouth. Strawberry. She loved strawberries, and she told him that.

“I knew it,”he grinned. “Don’t worry, sweets. I’m sure your parents are just fine. I’ll keep you company until you hear from ‘em, okay?”

The lock clicked when she turned it. The sign rattled lightly against the glass as she slowly eased the door open to peer through the gap. She looked him up and down— it sure looked like him, but damn, he’d grown up to be a looker. Dark gray skinny jeans, spattered with rain, hugged his body in all the right ways. Under his red-and-gray jacket, he wore a muscle tank that left little to the imagination. Ino felt her cheeks flushing as she spied the ridges of his muscles dancing beneath the fabric.

“You gonna let me in, sweets, or leave me out here in the rain?” Deidara joked, pulling her back to reality. She hurriedly opened the door the rest of the way to allow him in, and he sidled in like he owned the place— just like he had all those years ago. Water squeaked under his sneakers as it gathered against the wood, and when he tossed back his hood to shake out his water-dusted hair, Ino discovered it was nearly as long as hers, tied up into a long ponytail. “I didn’t intend to meetcha like this, but I gotta say, it’s damn ironic,” he smirked as he turned around to face her. Ino hovered in the doorway, wondering if a coincidence like this could truly exist.

“Yeah,” was all she could think of to say. He gave her a sardonic grin, which made her blush.

“You’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Well… It feels like I have,” she admitted, clasping her hands behind her back while she twisted her body slowly from side to side. “I never thought I would see you again, and yet, here you are… It’s a bit disorienting, especially considering the circumstances are the same.”

“Yeah, life is funny like that, huh?” Deidara chuckled. He turned to start investigating the flowers perched on the shelves. He reached up to brush his fingertips over the tiny petals of an orange zinnia flower, a smile playing over his thin lips. “I knew I’d find you still working here… That was your dream, wasn’t it? To take over the flower shop?”

“Yeah,” she blushed. He remembered… Maybe he’d spent the summers thinking about her just like she’d been thinking about him. “What about you? You wanted to be an artist, right?”

“An artist?” she’d cooed in delight, and Deidara had puffed out his chest in pride.

“That’s right! One day, I’m gonna be famous!” However, almost as soon as the confidence had come, it dissolved, and he slumped down into his stool. “But… I’ve been having trouble finding inspiration lately. I want to make things, but I just don’t know what to make.”

“I get like that sometimes with my flower arrangements.” She’d hopped off the stool to totter over to a half-finished bouquet. She’d poked and prodded at the arrangement, adding accent sprigs and then taking them away. “What do you call it? A muse? You just have to find that, right? When I get stumped, I think about great big fields of flowers…” she hummed, taking a deep breath as she imagined it. “And then suddenly I have the answer!”

He’d stared at her a moment, then laughed.

“That’s girly.”

“Yes indeed,” he grinned, dropping his hand and turning back to her. “I’m nothing special, just won a few international awards and sold some million-dollar pieces…” he bragged nonchalantly, brushing raindrops off his jacket. He laughed heartily as Ino’s mouth dropped open in utter shock, prompting him to walk forward and press his palms to her cheeks to squish them a little. “Ah, don’t get all starry-eyed on me, sweets.”

“I can’t help it!” she slurred through his squishing. “Million-dollar pieces? That’s insane!” He let go of her, leaving her cheeks pink and tingly from his touch. “Can I see them? Surely you have pictures, right?”

Deidara’s lit up at that, like two blue suns sparkling in the gloom. He practically dove his hand into his pocket to grab his cell phone, which made Ino chuckle. He scooted up next to her so she could see his phone screen, and the scent of his spicy cologne mixing with the rainwater made her head swim a little bit. He cycled through the photographs of his artworks, while Ino half-listened to his explanations, because there was something…

“Is that… me?” The centerpiece of each work was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. She didn’t want to be narcissistic, but surely that couldn’t be a coincidence too, right? She looked up at Deidara to find a soft, dreamy smile on his face as he gazed gently down at her.

“Yeah… You remember when I said that I struggled to find inspiration? After we met… You became my muse, Ino.” With a wan sigh, he stowed his phone, and then ran both his hands through his hair. An embarrassed smile played over his mouth, and Ino had to grin, because it was so cute to see him flustered when he’d come in acting all suave.

“And you’d called it girly,” she teased.

“I don’t remember that,” he defended in a huff, but she knew he was lying from the blush that spread over his cheeks. “Anyway… I figured it was time I came back here and thanked you.”

“A cut of your profits would be a very nice thank-you indeed,” she joked, walking over to play with the zinnias. Deidara snorted at that. As she fluffed the flowers, she paid a little less attention to the weather— so when a great big crack of thunder boomed overhead, she couldn’t help but jump and squeal. She felt eight years old again, trapped in this too-small shop while the world seemed to end outside.

“Still scared of thunderstorms, eh, sweets?” Deidara said softly in her ear. God, when had he snuck up behind her? He had his hands clutching the table on either side of her hips, and his chest just barely brushed against her back. She felt his spicy cologne wafting around her again, and her eyes fluttered as she grew a little hazy.

“N-no,” she said defensively. “It just surprised me, is all. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“No,” he murmured, a hand moving in to skim ever-so-lightly over her hip. “No, you aren’t.” He didn’t move further, just played with the edge of her apron— he was waiting for permission. It was like a cheesy romance film; he showed up after ten years, under the same circumstances, saying that she was his muse, and now he was laying the moves on her?

Fuck, how was Ino supposed to refuse? She would be the worst protagonist ever if she did! Besides, she didn’t spend the last ten summers mooning over him for no reason. It had always been in the back of her mind— that fairy tale ending, that one-in-a-million chance, that fantastical daydream she thought would never come true. She looked over her shoulder at him, their breath mixing in the muggy greenhouse air and the rain pounding incessantly above their heads.

“Why did you come here, Deidara?” she asked in a whisper of a breath. His mouth curled up in a smirk, while his eyes fixed on her own glossy lips.

“To weather the storm with you,” he answered with a straight face. It didn’t take long for that mischievous lilt to appear on his smile, though. “Aaaaaaaand… Maybe kiss you breathless, if you’re into that.”

“Why don’t you just kiss me and find out?” she sassed, and her cheek made his eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“Not quite so cute and helpless anymore, are you?”

“Afraid not. You’d be surprised how cutthroat the florist business is.”

He tipped back his head in a raucous laugh, and while he did so, Ino turned around in his arms to face him and rest her palms against his chest. When he finally looked back at her, sighing in amusement, he rested his hands on her hips and twirled the ends of her platinum-blonde hair around his fingertips. Ino fluttered her eyelashes demurely at him— as good an indication as any for him to get on with it.

And get on with it he did. Ino melted into him as he leaned down to brush his lips over hers— softly, tentatively. He rapidly grew in confidence, sweeping her up into a passionate kiss. It felt like their lips slotted together perfectly, like a lock and key, like they’d always belonged together. He really did kiss her breathless, again and again and again, while the rain cascaded down around them.

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me,” he whispered against her mouth when he finally pulled away. Ino giggled and looked up at him through her lashes.

“I promised you that I wouldn’t,�� she chuckled. “Besides, how could I forget you?”

“I am pretty memorable,” he said with a cocky nod, prompting Ino to thump him playfully on the chest. He purred and wrapped her up in a tight hug, holding her close. “But still… I couldn’t help but worry, just a little bit, that it didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me.”

Ino didn’t answer, just smiled into his chest. Some things just didn’t need to be said. The rain picked up outside, pounding against the window with a vengeance, but Ino didn’t mind. Once again, she had someone to weather the storm with.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#deino #deiino #deidara x ino #ino x deidara #ino yamanaka #yamanaka ino #deidara #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

carbo-ships · 3 years

Text

Knights

Part 3! Probably! It's worth mentioning that these stories are very episodic, occur in a fairly loose order, and don't have any set amount of time that passes in between them. They're less like chapters and more like... old polaroids you've found stacked in a box. Anyway. Enjoy.

Part 3 [Soldagand/Carly Masterlist]

“Honey, I’m home!” Soldagand reentered his tree long after the sun had set. Ani was out on another mission for the queen, so Carly was spending a few days with him again.

“Hey!” he heard Carly call back. He kicked off his boots and walked into the den to find her sitting on the couch, doodling in her sketchbook.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Let me guess,” he said with a smirk, “you’re drawing Aniketos?”

She snapped the book closed, embarrassed, and looked up at him. He saw concern flash across her face. He knew he probably looked a little worse for wear. “What’s up?” she asked cautiously.

“Could I cuddle with you for a minute, darlin’? I’ve had a rough day.”

He caught her blush. She was never quite used to how comfortable he was blatantly requesting affection. “Sure thing,” she said, setting her sketchbook aside.

He crossed the room and sat down next to her. “Get on my lap, will ya?” Soldagand asked, his voice tired and low.

She wordlessly climbed onto his lap, facing him, as she had done numerous times before. “What’s going on?”

He sighed and kissed her forehead. “It’s a long story. Got in a lil bit of an altercation.”

“Are you okay?” She was immediately alarmed, which is what he had hoped to avoid.

“Of course, honey, of course.”

“What happened?”

“Just some knights,” he mumbled against her skin. “Had to drive ‘em out.”

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No, no, just a couple scrapes. C’mon, darlin’, you know I can handle myself.”

“Let me see,” she insisted. He wanted to brush her off, but the look in her eyes said she would continue to press the issue until she had personally evaluated his condition.

“I’m telling you, it’s nothing.” He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a thin cut on his shoulder that had already scabbed over. “See? Nothin’ too bad. Barely grazed me.”

Her fingers ghosted over the straight wound. “Don’t tell me they had swords.”

He chuckled. “Alright, I won’t tell you.”

Worry made her heart ache. She did her best to stay calm and silence her imagination. “We should get this cleaned up,” she sighed, preparing to climb off his lap.

He tightened his grip on her to keep her from moving. “Later. I’m not done with you yet.” He buried his face in her shoulder and took a deep breath, hugging her tighter against his chest.

“Fine. You’re not getting out of it, though.” She carded her fingers through his soft hair and quickly found the sweet spot behind his ear. He involuntarily let out a low purr. She couldn’t help but giggle, making him groan in embarrassment. With her other hand, she cupped his cheek. He raised his head just enough to look up at her. There was tiredness behind his dark eyes. She forced herself to look away and pressed her lips against his forehead.

A grin crept onto his face as he returned his head to her shoulder. “I wish all humans were like you,” he crooned into her neck. “Sweet, affectionate… And damn cute, if I might add.” He slowly kissed her cheek and felt a shiver run up her spine. “Too much? Sorry, honey.”

She mumbled that it was fine. “I wish all dryads were like you. You’re so nice to me. I feel so safe around you.”

He beamed with pride. “I do my best, doll. But I’ll let you go. Gotta patch myself up.” He patted her thigh and she climbed off him. He stood and stretched with a wince.

She hated to see him in pain. “Can I help?”

“I mean, if you want. I’ll be a little indecent, though. You gonna be alright if I take my shirt off?” He shot a wink at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Alrighty, well, come with me, then.” The two of them made their way to his workroom. Soldagand approached his workbench with Carly at his side and cleared a bit of space. He then opened a worn brown box on the corner of the table and started pulling out some materials to dress wounds, along with a clear jar full of a thick golden substance.

“What’s that?” Carly asked.

“This? Honey mixed with a few other things. I don’t really remember. Ani made it a while back. Should keep wounds from getting infected.” He let out a small grunt of pain as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Take a look at my back for me, will ya, doll?” he asked.

She walked around him and started scanning his bare skin. There were a handful of old scars crisscrossing the backs of his broad shoulders and a faded bruise around his shoulder blade. Her eyes drifted lower and spotted an abrasion, almost like road rash, that started at his lower back and accented the lower few bumps of his spine. “What happened here?” she asked, touching just next to the raw skin. She heard him take a sharp breath. “Sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Oof, that’s gonna bruise hard. I, uh... I got thrown into a rock.” He sounded slightly embarrassed.

“Let me see some of that honey stuff. How on earth does someone manage to throw you, of all people, into anything?” she asked, delicately dabbing the mysterious concoction onto the abrasion with a rag he had handed her and apologizing when he hissed in pain.

“Well there were five of ‘em, baby, I’m not indestructible!”

“You went solo against five knights?!” she shrieked in horror.

“I didn’t have a choice!” he laughed. “What was I supposed to do—call you for help? Your shoulder’s still not better, I can’t have you re-injuring that.”

“Soldagand, you could have been really hurt!”

He set down the bandages and turned around to face her with a sigh. “I have to protect this forest, and I have to protect you. If I get a little banged up in the process, that’s just—” He suddenly cut himself off with a laugh. “Darlin’, my eyes are up here!”

Her eyes snapped up from surveying his bare chest. She had been caught blatantly staring at his muscular form. Her face quickly turned red. “I— I—” She couldn’t lie and say she was merely checking him for injuries. They both knew that wasn’t true.

His shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh, my god, were you checking me out?”

She hid her face in her hands. “I am so sorry!”

His laughter was only interrupted by another hiss of pain and several hushed “oww”s. She peeked through her fingers. A wound on his stomach had reopened. Small pearls of blood started to well through the opening. “Well, that’s not good,” he sighed.

She gasped in horror. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back!” Carly bolted out of the room and into the den. She quickly found her bag and started digging through it. Her fingers finally found the small black book and she made her way back into the workshop. Soldagand was leisurely leaning against his workbench, clutching his stomach. He was calm, but it was clear that the bleeding was getting worse. She dropped to her knees in front of him. Soldagand refrained from making any inappropriate comments, if only for the sake of avoiding aggravating any more injuries. She flipped through the little book and found the handwritten page she was looking for before setting it on the floor next to her. “Move your hand for me,” she said, looking up at him. He obeyed, revealing the bloody wound. She took a deep breath, the sight of it making her uneasy. “Okay, just, uh, hold still.”

“Alright, anything you say,” he responded as he wiped his bloody hand on a rag, although he clearly wanted to ask more questions. She reached up with one hand and hesitantly rested her palm against the cut. She caught him wince and apologized feverishly. “It’s okay, darlin’. I trust you.” She nodded reluctantly and turned her attention back to the book on the floor. She took another deep breath and started reading the words on the page in a whisper. Soldagand strained to hear what she was saying but found himself distracted when her fingertips started glowing a faint purple. The pain lessened as a warm tingle started spreading through his lower abdomen. The light from her fingers brightened and her small hand started trembling. Smeared blood from the injury evaporated from his skin. His shocked gaze returned to her, finding sweat glistening on her furrowed brow. A moment later, the glow faded and her hand returned to her side.

In a daze, Soldagand carefully ran his thumb over the spot where the cut once was. It was completely healed. “Since when could you do magic?” he asked, amazed.

“Ani’s been teaching me some,” she responded through labored breaths.

“Woah, you alright? You’re lookin’ a little pale there, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just—I—I need to catch my breath for a minute.” She started falling to one side.

He quickly knelt to catch her in his arms. “Carly, you okay?” Silence. “Shit.” He picked her up, his sore muscles protesting, and carried her back to the den to lay her down on the couch. He knelt beside her and shook her shoulder. “C’mon, baby, wake up, wake up. Come back to me.”

A few moments later, her eyes peeked open. “Hey,” she croaked weakly, not quite seeming to understand what had occurred.

“You scared the dickens out of me, darlin’,” he sighed. “Do you remember what happened?”

She shook her head slightly. “Did I fall asleep?”

“No, baby. After your little magic trick, you keeled right over.”

“What?”

“You fainted, doll. Right into my arms. How are you feelin’?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I think I’m ok. I’m a little dizzy, though.”

“Alright. Hang tight, sugar.” He kissed her forehead before disappearing into the kitchen. He found a mug for her and filled it from a pitcher of water. “You hungry at all, baby?” he called. She weakly responded that she wasn’t. “This ever happened before? You fainting after this incantation?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch and handing her the mug. She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she sipped the cool water. “Darlin’?”

She cleared her throat nervously. “Well, I—I’d never actually done that one by myself before.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” Soldagand groaned.

“Ani said to only use it for emergencies,” Carly mumbled.

“He said that for a good reason! I saw you straining to get through it, but I thought you knew your limits. You’re not strong enough for something that big yet, you knew that.” He caressed her cheek as he spoke.

“You were hurt,” she said, almost a whisper.

“Sure, but it’s nothing I couldn’t’ve handled! Don’t go risking yourself to protect me. You could’ve been really hurt!” There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as the two stared at each other. Tears started to well in her eyes. “Oh no, honey, no, no, no, c’mon, I—” The first sniffle sent his heart into his stomach. He took the mug from her to set it aside, scooped her into his arms, and pulled her into his lap. Holding her tight against his bare chest, he kissed her forehead over and over. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart.”

She hugged him tightly, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “I was—I was just so worried about you, I— When I saw all that blood—”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, shh shh shh,” he cooed. “I’m alright, ain’t I? I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. I’m sorry for getting upset with you, honey, don’t cry!” He wiped her tears with his thumbs and kissed her cheeks. She buried her face in his neck to hide her tears from him. “Oh, baby,” he cooed, “magic’s just real dangerous. Ani’s been doing it for longer than you’ve been alive and even he still wears himself out if he does somethin’ too ambitious. You gotta be careful.”

“Why do you get to put yourself in danger if I can’t fix you?” she cried.

Soldagand sighed. “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” came her whimpered response.

He rubbed her back. “I’ll try to be more careful, okay? But it’s gonna take more than a few knights to take me out. I’m not human, baby. I’m stronger than I look, and I look damn strong. You know that. But how about this: next time I find myself in a pinch, if and only if it’s safe for you to fight, I’ll call you for help, alright? And if things are real bad, I’ll get Alora.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She took a shaky breath and clung to him tighter. “I just—I just love you so much. If something happened to you—”

He stopped her. “I know, darlin’, I know. But ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me. You trust me?”

She nodded, rubbing the tears out of her eyes.

“You need some rest,” he said, helping her out of his lap.

She grabbed his hand before he could turn to leave. “Please don’t go.”

“I gotta finish patching myself up. Now, I know you’re dehydrated after all that cryin’. Drink all your water before I get back and I’ll stay with you for the night, how about that?” A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he passed her the mug.

“You don’t have to incentivize me, I’m not a child,” she mumbled.

“To me, you are! You have any idea how old I am?”

She stared at him blankly. It almost seemed to him that she had been trying not to think about it. “Thirty… four?”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered, darlin’, but I’m not human, remember? Try again.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Forty-five?”

“Higher. Much higher.”

She looked startled and embarrassed. “You can’t be sixty, can you?”

“Try four hundred and sixteen.”

“What?! Four hundred and—” She sat up in shock, but too quickly. Her free hand pressed against her throbbing head.

He pushed her back down. “Drink. Rest. I won’t be long.” He squeezed her hand gently before walking out of the room.

Rubbing his sore muscles, he entered the workshop. He scooped the small book off the floor to see what exactly she had done. He quickly identified the writing as Aniketos’s. Skimming over the page, he saw that Ani had explicitly instructed her never to use that incantation unless someone was in mortal danger and he couldn’t be reached. “It wasn’t that bad,” he mumbled to himself, looking down at where the gash once was. There wasn’t even a scar left. He had to admit, he was impressed. The dull throbbing in his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. He set to work applying the thick mixture to his remaining wounds and covered them as well as he could. When he was done, he picked his shirt off the table. After inspecting it, he decided it probably belonged in a long soak rather than back on his body. He grabbed her book and left the room.

When he returned to the den, she was already fast asleep. Her cup, returned to the table, was empty. He considered heading out to get some work done, but he had made a promise. After slipping the book back into her bag, he settled in beside her on the couch. He gently pulled her into his bare chest. The poor thing would be in for a surprise the moment she opened her eyes, but he would deal with the flustered human in the morning.

[prev] / [next]

#selfship #self ship #carbo writes #i have vasovagal syncope dont look at me #i really just be fainting #the ''friendship'' has a lot of casual affection and sol will not be convinced it's anything more than that #face kisses are purely platonic as far as he's concerned

12 notes · View notes

paperficwriter · 4 years

Text

Your First Date

Some sweet, fluffy batarou. Being teens in love.

Cut is for length, not for content.

“Oi, Badd. Why didn’t we go on a first date?”

“Well, ya hospitalized me, and then ya went on some kind of monster rager and ended up becomin’ some kinda gargoyle thing? With horns, I heard? And then ya ran off for a hot minute until ya showed up here ‘cause Zenko thought you were some kinda stray to bring home, and here we are.”

“...Heh, yeah, that just about covers it.”

Somehow during months of living together, this conversation didn’t even come up until they were sitting together on the couch, watching an anime one evening that depicted a boy and a girl in a very typical ‘is this a date?!’ situation. They were quiet for a little bit after that, until Badd prompted him by elbowing him in the arm. “Did ya want to? I mean, I feel like we kinda skipped that whole thing, yeah? Usually ya date before ya start livin’ with someone.”

“So what’s the difference between going on a date and dating?”

Badd paused the television and turned to him, wedging himself into the back sofa cushion on his side. “The date’s kinda...the thing itself. Datin’ is when you’re, like, ‘Let’s see how this pans out and if I wanna be your girlfriend for the long haul.’”

“Does that mean we skipped straight to making you my girlfriend?”

“Psh. I’m savin’ my girlfriend status for The One. You lose.”

Garou chuckled and pulled one of Badd’s hands over to rub between his. “Never been on a date before,” he mumbled.

“Are ya serious?” Badd winced when Garou bent one of his fingers sideways. “Ow. I didn’t mean it t’ be shitty! You’re good-lookin,’ so I figured ya woulda had to beat ‘em off with a stick!”

Holy shit, did Garou just blush?! “It’s not like I really had a chance, with the whole ‘leaving home and living at a dojo and then dishonoring said dojo and everything afterward,’ you know?”

Badd dragged his thumb against one of the long lines across Garou’s hand. Then he realized it wasn’t actually the love line, or the life line, or whatever. But rather, it was the pink, faded scar left from his hero hunting. “That means if I take ya out on a date, it’s not just our first date but your first date. Officially.”

Garou nodded. “Which means it can’t suck.”

“Hey, my dates don’t suck.”

“They better not. You don’t have an excuse like I do, since it sounds like you’ve been on a million, you hussy.”

Badd snatched his hand back so he could grab him by one of his wild ‘ears’ of hair. “I ain’t a hussy! And I haven’t been on a million dates! Just a few!”

Thin fingers jabbed at his side right into one of his ticklish pressure points, and Badd’s body buckled in on itself. “No, no, you’re clearly the dating pro, so you better wow me or I’m leaving!”

“Fine!” Badd threw himself on top of Garou, grabbing him by his shirt. He dropped his face close to his with a huge grin. “Then I’m gonna take ya on the best damn date o’ your life. So get ready, wolf boy.”

Garou snuck in a kiss onto Badd’s round nose, flashing his own teeth in a smile. “Okay. I’m holding you to that.”

—

Badd ended up borrowing a car. Although he had gotten his license, he didn’t really need one in the city, since he either walked wherever he needed to go or took public transportation. But if he was going to take Garou on a date, they were going to have to head out a little distance from his normal stomping grounds, enough that no one would immediately recognize him or, worse, ask questions about Garou.

And even as it was, Badd still didn’t sport his normal pompadour, and Garou had one of his beanies over his trademark hair. “So, where are we going?” Garou asked as he reached over to play with Badd’s loose strands where they framed his face.

“It’s a surprise, ya goober. Also, I, uh...didn’t wanna talk about it so much in front o’ Zenko or she’d be sore we weren’t taking her.”

“Scandalous.”

“Shut up!” Badd gave him a shove, but he was smiling. The drive itself was nice; the air was cool, they listened to some music (and since it was just them, they didn’t even have to suffer through Amai Mask’s discography), and the sunset was a beautiful bleed of color across the horizon.

Garou grinned when Badd turned into a hotel. “Oh, so it’s that kind of a date, huh?”

“It ain’t like that! Don’t be weird!” Badd’s cheeks burned up to his ears. “I got us a room so we didn’t have to rush back tonight, and so I didn’t have to find some random place to park.”

When Badd got back from checking in, Garou had his face out the window of the car, sniffing, eyes big. It was like he was looking into the distance, at nothing in particular, an invisible interest.

Badd couldn’t help ruffling the top of his head. “What is it, boy?” he asked like he was talking to a dog, “Whattaya smell, huh?”

Garou rolled his eyes but didn’t really divert his attention, though his did close his eyes. “It’s been forever since I went to the beach. I can smell the sand and the water...and I can hear it.”

Badd turned his ear up, letting the wind hit him. He could just barely make out the salty scent, but he certainly couldn’t hear it. “Good thing that ain’t the surprise.”

Tipping his head curiously, Garou got out of the car, and they started walking down the road.

It couldn’t be but so surprising, because they could see the boardwalk from the half-mile mark as they walked up toward it. A large road right beside piers and docks had been lined with shops, stands and various attractions on either side, and there was a huge ferris wheel lit up with sparkling lights.

Badd had insisted on going during the week, so since it was Wednesday there weren't nearly as many people as there probably would have been on the weekend. On top of that, it was also late in the season, so there weren’t visiting tourists to contend with either. “I know ya hate crowds as much as I do,” Badd commented as he took his hand. “And I wanted your first date to be a good experience, ya know.”

Garou was staring in every direction, his mouth just a little bit open. Shit, was it too much? Had Badd overdone it?

What finally came out was: “I want to eat everything.”

Badd laughed. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

When Garou said everything, he wasn’t kidding. Like a bloodhound, Garou made a beeline for the spots that had the best-smelling greasy food scents, and Badd found himself being dragged to stand after stand to buy long skewers of yakitori, shioyaki and ikayaki. Each one was shoved into his face to try. “Please at least keep the squid in a different hand. If I think I’m gonna get chicken and bite into the ikayaki, I’m gonna hurl.”

Garou just took a bite of each. To spite him.

Now, the noodles he could get behind: yakisoba with deliciously tender pieces of pork; hot, sour Thai noodles that warmed him up to the core; a ramen burger made with prime beef and huge pieces of near-solid noodles. Garou was about to lead them to the taiyaki parfait stand, when Badd finally put his hand on his arm.

“Babe. Ya know I think the world of ya, but can we digest for, like, five minutes?”

“I guess.” He smirked and kissed a spot of sauce off the corner of his mouth. “You weakling.”

Next, Badd took him to an arcade. It was set up to look like one of the “classic” ones, with pinball, huge games with old displays that were probably twenty years old, and racing games that made Garou have to fold his long limbs inwards to get to the gas and brake.

When he caught Badd laughing, he glared. “I’m still going to kick your ass, even if I do dislocate my hip.”

“You are older than me, Stretch. That’s a real concern.”

“By a year!”

But they figured it was time to go when Garou laid into a test-your-strength punching dummy a bit too hard and snapped it off its support. In his defense, Badd absolutely should have been watching him closer. Garou had a tendency to get carried away.

As they explored the area even more, they came to a set of shops outside a mall connected to the boardwalk. Garou wandered over to an open stand and stopped so hard his heels screeched. “Oh my god, Badd, look at this.” At first, it just looked like they were selling little trinkets and random junk...until Badd got a closer look. “It’s fucking knock-off hero stuff like you find online!”

Badd nearly choked as he picked up a toy that he could only guess was supposed to be Genos with huge neon eyes and a perfectly rectangular mouth. One hand was on backwards, and the paint job was so abysmal it was like it was just dipped in random colors. A figurine of Atomic Samurai actually had a gun for some reason, Zombieman had been painted lime green, and then…

“You have to buy it.”

“I don’t have to do any such a damn thing.”

“Please. I need this as a memento of our first date.”

Badd sighed and paid the ridiculous amount for a Metal Bat action figure: the torso was so big his head was roughly pea-sized, he was wearing a skirt and his bat looked like it was a wooden one. “It’s literally in the name! Metal Bat! They had one job!”

Garou cackled as he pocketed his prize. “Villains beware! The amazing Wood Bat! Special move: Splinter Spirit!”

As the sky was just beginning to transition from a red-touched blue into night, Badd walked Garou out onto the pier that cut into the ocean far enough that it was actually quiet, compared to the street. A torii gate stood alone overlooking the water and the far-off sunset. Garou stared up at it as Badd explained, “There used to be a shrine on the water, but it got destroyed by a typhoon or somethin.’ They left the torii up ‘cause the sun falls right inside it, yeah? And it was still standin,’ so...yeah.”

“You know a lot about this place.”

Badd grinned, kind of lopsidedly. “Yeah…”

“Like you’ve been here before. More than once.”

“Heh, guess I’ve been caught.”

Easily hopping up onto it, Garou sat on one of the wooden rails of the dock and looked out over the easy-going waves. “That’s fine. There are only but so many places you can take dates, so obviously there’s going to be some overlap.”

“What? Oh god, no. Garou.” Careful not to push him over, Badd got between Garou’s long legs, hands holding his waist. “I ain’t...I’ve never brought another date here. Never. You’re the first.” He sighed. “I came here when I was a kid, with my folks. And Zenko after she was born, for a couple of years but I think she was too young to really remember it. This is, uh…” He cleared his throat. “This is the first time…” God, don’t cry, don’t fucking choke up. “Since…”

“Hey.” Garou’s fingers rubbed the back of his scalp and pulled his face into his stomach. “I got it. It’s okay. I like it. A lot.”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s the best first date. I thought you were just going to drag me out to something really lame and I was going to have to be like, ‘Nooo, Baaadd, I loooove it…’”

Badd snickered and jabbed Garou in the side of the leg. “Jerk.”

Garou continued on in the mock-patronizing voice as he jumped off the ledge and back to the dock. “‘Oh my gooood...no, you put soooo much effort into it…’”

“Well now if I ever do disappoint ya, I’ll see right through you!”

“Of course you will, because I am so transparent and you are so perceptive.” Garou tugged him toward the ferris wheel. “Come on, I think this is a good time for this one.”

Badd nodded, and when they got to the ramp, there really wasn’t much of a line. They climbed into the next available car together. It was one of the new, fancier ferris wheels, with a compartment that people could sit in facing each other while looking out a window on either side, at the sea or at the glittering city skyline in the near-distance. Slowly, they started the climb, and as Badd watched the crowds below get smaller and smaller, he could feel Garou’s eyes on him.

“So, I’m new to this, but it seems pretty obvious that this is when you’re supposed to kiss on dates, right? That’s a thing isn’t it?”

Badd turned his hand over when cool fingers rubbed his knuckles. “Yeah, I think ya kinda...play it by ear, and when it feels right, ya jus’ go for it.”

Garou leaned close, his smile reflecting the bulbs outside that lined the ride’s spokes. “I think you’re supposed to call the shots though, right?”

“Yeah...I think so.” Badd moved like he was going to close the gap between them, but then put his fingers up to block Garou’s lips. “Wait.”

“...seriously?”

“Trust me.”

It was only about a minute until they rounded the curve and there they were, at the top of the wheel. In the grand scheme of things, it probably wasn’t that high up but...here, it was the highest point, and for them it might as well have been the top of the world. And before Garou could ruin it by saying something dumb or complaining about the hold up, Badd yanked him into the softest, deepest kiss he could give, putting every ounce of himself into it.

They didn’t actually break it until they were almost at the bottom again, and even then they stayed close, gazing into one another’s face.

“You know…” Garou gave him another little peck, smiling through it. “I think I could get into this whole dating thing.”

Badd hummed, and he kept his fingers loosely holding his shirt so he couldn’t get far away from him. “Yeah...kinda figured ya might feel that way.”

#my paperfics #one punch man #batarou #metal bat #badd #garou #so much fluff #fluffy fluff fluff #this was fun to write

68 notes · View notes

generallybarzy · 4 years

Text

smile like sunshine ii

Sunday: ~6.4k words,

summary: The first day at the beach was always overwhelming: the first sight of the ocean after driving, the first taste of salt in the air, the breeze in your hair, the first feeling of warm sand beneath your toes. And with Mat here? Oh boy, there are all new sensations you’re feeling. But, work always has to come before play, right?

an: Alright this is the first real chapter at the beach! Literally everything in here- every store, activity they do etc- is based on the beach trip my family and I take every year, but I won’t go into detail about location so you can imagine it’s anywhere you’d like :) The chapters after this might take a little longer, because I already had half of this written when I uploaded part 1. But I hope it’ll be worth the wait!

It’s the summer of ‘19, eleven years after you first met Mat, and things are bound to be a little different this time around.

The first night in a real bed after a long road trip always felt great- finally being able to just stretch and sleep for as long as you wanted after hours and hours of travel, getting well rested and ready to hit the beach and jump in the waves. You still had a few hours in the morning before you were able to check in to your rental home on the oceanfront, so- like every year- you were sleeping in to get as well-rested as possible.

Mat, on the other hand, wasn’t accustomed to your family traditions of vacation and was used to waking up early, so he came to his senses long before you. The first thing he noticed that morning, before even opening his eyes, was how cold the room was. When you dragged him in here last night, even though it was dark it had still been sweltering outside in the beachy summer air, so you must have cranked the AC on high before crawling under the covers with him. But, strangely enough, despite the room being chilly he was still warm under the thin motel bedsheets. This led him to his second, and most striking observation.

As he slowly phased into consciousness, he noticed the cozy mess of bare limbs tangled with his under the sheets, and the consistent hot sighs of air against his throat. He could feel an arm wrapped tight around his bare waist- his shirt must have gotten pushed up overnight- and a small, gentle hand resting on his chest. His own arms were around your frame, one hand resting ever so scandalously on your thigh. Your bare legs tangled with his, and couldn’t help but notice how warm and soft you felt against him. And, God, you smelled so pretty- was that weird? He peeled open his eyes to find you looking peaceful and comfortable, pulled flush against his body, tucked into his side with your face smooshed between his neck and shoulder. Fuck, this was 100% inappropriate, he knew. You’re his friend, and this just isn’t how friends behave.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you. Not yet.

You weren’t awake yet, and he didn’t have the heart to wake you up when you looked so comfortable, so he lay for another hour or so, just looking at you and thinking. Was this creepy? This is definitely creepy, but he didn’t care. Here he was, eleven years later, with the first girl outside his family he ever cared for. The girl he knew for one month, missed for ten years, the girl who found him and shocked him and stole his heart eight months ago and had continued to surprise him every day since then. You had him so, so wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even realize it yet. Ah, but friendship. Friendship meant he shouldn’t kiss you, shouldn’t tell you and the world how much you meant to him, shouldn’t have his hand this far up your thigh, shouldn’t be tangled into your body like this. Shouldn’t love you. Mat didn’t realize how red his face was getting or how quickly his heart started beating until his eyes fell back to watching you, snoozing comfortably on his chest. Hell, you could probably feel his heartbeat.

He untangled himself from you and rolled to the other side of the bed, taking a breath to try and steady his heart and cool the fire inside him. Wow, the effect you had on him was crazy. This week was going to be crazy.

A knock at the door had him jerking up in bed, afraid of your family finding him anywhere close to you, staring at you with such adoration. “Up and at ‘em, kiddos!” He rolled out of bed at the sound of your father’s voice. “We got a beach to hit!”

He opened the door without even getting the chance to wash his face or fix his hair, still wearing the same wrinkled tee shirt, shorts and socks that he’s had on for 24 hours now, and greeted your dad, pushing out as much of a smile as he could.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Mathew. Great, I needed to talk to you.” He froze where he was in the doorway, and looked back to where you were still asleep in bed, hoping that maybe you’ve woken up by now and would come over to save him from whatever was about to happen.

“Talk?”

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m not that scary.” Oh, you’re not that scary? Yeah right. But Mat complied, closing the door to your room and standing out front with your father, wanting to stay on his good side for at least this week. The sun was already bright, it was already getting hot and humid out, and though he couldn’t see the ocean yet, he could definitely smell the seawater in the air. He couldn’t wait to get out in the water with you. “(Y/N) brought you along on this trip with us, so you must be somebody she cares about. What’s your relationship to my daughter?”

“We’re just friends.” He spoke almost too quickly, wanting to convince your dad, and maybe even himself, that there was nothing going on between the two of you. “We actually met here on vacation eleven years ago-”

“Ah, ah, I remember, kid.” He waved his hands to stop Mat in his story. “But it’s hard for me to believe there’s nothing more going on between the two of you. You might have been in the back seat, but I saw the way you stared at her while she was asleep on the way here.” Mat’s heart stopped. Oh God, oh God, oh God your dad saw him staring at you. You had fallen asleep long before he did, so for almost an hour he had watched you sleep soundly with your head on his shoulder. He didn’t think anyone could see, but he was also so immersed with your beauty that he must have missed your dad’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t know about you, but that’s not how I look at my friends.”

“Um…” He was at a loss for words, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure if he should try to find an explanation or just tell the truth, but your dad’s intense gaze wore through him. There was no way he could spin this to make it seem believably platonic. “Shit… “ He mumbled under his breath, looking down at his socks and knowing he couldn’t lie to this guy. “Okay, I might like her a little more than platonically, maybe. But I wasn’t planning to say anything to her yet.”

“Don’t.”

“Wha-?”

“I don’t know enough about you yet, but if my daughter likes you enough to bring you along- and I know she doesn’t trust people easily- I’m sure I should trust you too. You seem like an okay guy. So far.” Mat felt a smile light up his face, it wasn’t much of a compliment, but it still meant a lot to him.

“Oh, wow, thanks.”

“But know that I’ve still gotta be a dad here. And if you say anything to her that disrupts her happiness, it’ll make things awkward and ruin the whole trip. So, nothing sneaky is gonna happen under my roof, especially not this week. Nothing. I’ll be watching you, Mathew. Making sure you don’t try anything. Making sure you don’t hurt her.”

Mat was quick to shake his head. “Of course not.”

“I don’t care how much of an All Star you are, if you do anything, and I mean anything, to hurt her…!” Mat hadn’t realized how far he’d been leaning back against the door until it opened behind him and had him stumbling to get his footing.

“Dad, why are you interrogating my friend?” He looked back to you, standing there in your own wrinkled tee shirt and those soft pajama shorts, the ones his hand had been ever so slightly underneath earlier, your hair a tangled mess but still beautiful. Your soft hands found his arm, ready to pull him inside and away from the questioning. A little too late to save me, (Y/N), he thought, amused.

“Well, you can’t just bring a random boy along without me questioning him. He could be a murderer.”

“Yep, he’s definitely a murderer.”

“We’ll see.” Mat felt a hand clap his back and forced out a smile. Your dad didn’t like him? To be honest, he wasn’t too familiar with people completely disliking him off the bat. Oh well, he was just being a generic protective dad, and no one could blame him for wanting to look out for you. Mat knew he had nothing to worry about- he definitely wasn’t going to hurt you this week, or ever, so your dad’s threat- his promise- meant nothing to him. “All right kids, get ready. We’re heading to the house soon. And wear your swimsuits so we don’t have to change when we get there.”

You pulled Mat back inside by the arm, closing the door behind you and not missing the final look he sent to Mat. “Sorry about that.”

“No big deal, just… obligatory dad talk I guess. Threatening any guy that gets close to his daughter and stuff.”

“Well, if it makes it any better, I meant to get up earlier to keep you safe from him.”

“I appreciate the effort, but you were a bit too late.” He smiled down at you and you became increasingly aware of how close you were standing. But you couldn’t look away, his hair looked so soft, having probably just woken up a few minutes before you, and his lips had the slightest pout to them that you didn’t realize earlier. His eyes- oh, his eyes- were a soft, beautiful golden brown color you loved so much.

“I swear, your eyes used to be a lot more green.”

Mat’s eyebrows quirked up with a smile, intrigued. “You remember my eye color after eleven years?”

It was meant to be teasing, you knew that, but it was true, and it felt like such an intimate thing. You had just been gazing into his eyes for much, much longer than was appropriate for friends! Maybe it was dumb, considering he was a friend, but you still thought back to his “dazzling green eyes” and the way they sparkled so much in the sunlight, and you hadn’t really seen them that green for any of the last eight months of your friendship.

“Um...” You took your hand off of his arm, shaking away your thoughts and pointing to the bathroom, clothes in your hand. “I’m gonna go change.”

The next few minutes were full of small, sneaky glimpses back and forth. Mat had never been this interested in getting ready in the morning, but watching you brush your hair and brush your teeth was just so immersing to him. You kept catching yourself glancing over to Mat, and couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He was so pretty in the morning, his eyes were so sleepy and his hair was so soft and fluffy, and it took everything in you not to reach up and run your hands through it. You’d never seen him this early in the morning, and if you were being honest, you were sad you didn’t get to wake up before him and just lay and watch that sleepy face that you loved so much. You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as Mat stripped out of his shirt before disappearing into the bathroom to change into some swim trunks. Wow. He certainly didn’t have those abs eleven year ago.

You watched Mat when he opened the bathroom door and ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly in the mirror. “C’mon, Mat! You don’t need to do your hair, It’s just gonna get messed up in the water anyway.” You heard him laugh, used to your teasing.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He pulled you into his side. “Let’s go, princess.”

Some say eleven is a lucky number- when you see 11:11 on a clock, you want to make a wish, even if you don’t believe in wishes, don’t you? So maybe it had something to do with magic, maybe the stars had finally aligned, or maybe you had just both ended up in the right place at the right time, but you never thought you would be here again with Mat, especially not after eleven years.

And there it was. The first sight of the ocean was always so refreshing. After a whole 24 hours of travel and waiting and being as patient as possible, the first glimpse of the ocean, the first taste of salt in the air, the first feeling of sand beneath your feet was your big reward. And being here with Mat… it was a whole new feeling, even more intense. Here you were, standing in the sand next to Mat with nothing but ocean in front of you and shoreline as far as you could see on your left and right.

You hadn’t seen Mat shirtless much during your friendship, maybe briefly, but now it was clear- he had certainly grown, shirtless and looking absolutely stunning with the sunlight shining off of his chest and abs, rubbing what looked like the bare minimum of sunscreen on his shoulders. Woah, woah, you really shouldn’t be staring- but really, he’s gonna get sunburnt, that’s all you were worried about! He caught your eye with his gleaming sunshine smile and nudged you, his hand clapping your bare back softly and falling to your waist to pull you into him and bump hips in a teasing way he would do often, only now it felt a lot different, considering you were both almost naked. But, if he cared, that twinkle in his eye didn’t give anything away. “Race you to the water.”

He beat you there, of course, running into the oncoming waves with no hesitation, but you had the satisfaction of watching him half trip and half get knocked over into the water with a yelp, and watching him come back up all wet with dripping hair and a bright smile, laughing at himself. You stood in your spot on the wet sand and watched, feeling as if time was going in slow motion with some cheesy 80s love song playing in the background as he threw back his head and lifted a hand to get his hair out of his face.

“Are you coming in or not?”

Honestly, you could have sat and watched him for hours- he looked so irresistible with drops of water rolling down his perfectly sculpted chest and abs and his hair dark and slicked back- but having the option to be closer to him was something you definitely weren’t going to pass on. Maybe it took you too long to respond, though, because before you could even nod and come in after him, he was scooping you up in his arms with ease, startling you and laughing at your reaction. And as much as you didn’t mind being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body through the coolness of the water, you knew where this was headed. “Mat, let me down! Don’t you dare!” But he was a menace, and he lived to annoy you, so he rushed out with you in his arms and dropped you in the water- which felt especially cold on your skin after you had stood in the sunlight for so long. You sputtered and wiped the water out of your face, thankful he was generous enough to not drop you right where waves crashed down. “Mat!”

In the midst of bending over in laughter, he managed out a quick- “You took too long!”

You wanted to be mad at how much he was laughing at your annoyance, you really did, but how could you when he was all wet and shiny in the sunlight and those swim trunks were so low on his hips and wow those abs and that V going down-

You splashed some water back at him, laughing along with his contagious little giggles as you stood and tried to recompose yourself in front of him- adjusting your swimsuit and what not.

Mat couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stood in the water in front of him. You didn’t know how good you looked in that swimsuit, though he’d never tell you that. Friends shouldn’t just tell each other they look hot, right? No, that’s weird, of course not. Especially not on the first day of six more at the beach. He didn’t want to make it awkward. But you did look breathtaking. And the way you smiled at him while wringing out your hair was making him hot in the face.

“I can’t believe you’re still a ten-year-old, Mat.”

“Umm, excuse you” He scoffed and put on a mock offended voice. “I was actually eleven, for your information.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that makes much of a difference.”

“You should be glad I couldn’t lift you back then. I probably would’ve ended up drowning you.” He caught the look on your face and smiled. “Accidentally, of course.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure.” You laughed a bit, but were quickly thrown off balance by a particularly strong wave crashing into you from behind and pushing you into a rock hard body.

“Woah, there, I don’t actually want you to drown.” This was Mat. Mat’s chest you’d fallen into, Mat’s arms that had caught you, Mat’s hard abs you were bracing yourself against, and Mat’s hair that dripped water down against your neck. The world seemed to freeze around you as you gazed up at him, not even realizing yet that you were practically feeling him up. And there, in the sunlight, his eyes had changed from honey-colored to the same gleaming, dazzling green you’d first seen eleven years ago today.

“There it is!”

“What?”

“The green! Your eyes are super green in the sun!”

Mat was quick to laugh. “Okay, you’re really hung up on my eye color, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” You reached a hand up to brush a wet strand of hair away from his eyes and back behind his ear, not even thinking about how intimate it was. “You have really pretty hazel eyes, Mat.” His mouth softened into a smaller, gentler smile, but before he could even respond, though, your younger siblings were barging into the water, pushing between the two of you.

“Move it, lovebirds.”

“Remember to keep room for Jesus!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up, guys!” You backed away from Mat, not wanting to give off the wrong impression. “He’s my friend.”

“Yeah, whatever. Hey, mom wants you to run to the store to get some food for the week.”

“Now? We just got here!” You looked over at Mat, who was busying himself with splashing in the waves, trying to steer clear of your family for the most part. He didn’t need to, but you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Actually, her exact words were ‘she might as well do something for me’.”

You sucked in a breath and tried to ignore how deep her words cut. And so family week begins, huh? Of course there’s gonna be some shade thrown. According to your mom, you’d practically abandoned her after moving to New York at such a young age. You could see where she was coming from, sure, but it was a little overdramatic. “We’ll go later, when it’s too hot.”

“Yeah.” Your sister shrugged and tossed you a pair of goggles. “We’re gonna look for cool shells or fish or crabs or something. Mat wanna help?”

“Help with what?” Mat perked up, having heard his name. You smiled at the thought of inviting Mat into your family traditions, and your siblings getting along so well with him. Your sister tossed a pair of goggles over to him.

“Oh yeah, he’s totally helping.”

A few hours passed by quickly, too quickly for your liking, and, though Mat got bored pretty quickly of looking for shells, he and your brother had apparently bonded when it came to annoying you and your sister- tossing chunks of wet sand and seaweed at you and grabbing your leg while underwater just to scare you. Ah, boys. It’d be infuriating if you weren’t so hopelessly in love with Mat.

And now, your parents had sent the two of you out on a trip to get enough food for one week. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you had just gotten here and wanted to spend as much time as possible in the water. You could deal with this arrangement, though, considering it was the hottest time of day and you’d probably be burning if you were out there. Also, this just meant more alone time with Mat but, as much as you loved the domesticity of it, Mat really, really didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.

“I can’t believe they sent us to do this.” Mat whined beside you, slouched over on his crossed arms and pushing the cart halfheartedly.

“Well, I’d love to be on the beach too, but we will have to eat sometime this week.”

“I guess.” He followed behind you silently for a few minutes, still mopey as you picked certain things from a list off of the shelves. Just as you thought you were finished and could go check out, he perked up at something. “Oh! I forgot to give you this.” He pulled something small out of his pocket and opened his fist to reveal a tiny, spiral seashell.

“Wow, that’s cute!" You took it from him, trying to ignore the sparks that ignited in you when your hands touched ever so softly. “And it already has a little hole in it! I could put it on a necklace! Thanks, Mat.”

“No problem,” his face was warm and smiley, always happy to make you happy. “I just found it in the water earlier and thought you’d like it. You like pretty things.”

“I do like pretty things.” You caught yourself before letting your gaze fall over him, but God, it was true. He was pretty. You thought for a moment, looking at the cart of food before an idea popped up in your head. “You know what? Even if my parents forced us to go shopping, we’re gonna have some fun for ourselves.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed a bit, always a welcome sound. “And how do you suggest we have fun in a store?”

“Well, first, I’m gonna find something to make this into a necklace. Then, there’s a souvenir shop across the street from here...” You trailed off and sent him a questioning look. “I’d really like to see you in some of the Hawaiian shirts they always have over there.” He smiled and shook his head at you, and you knew he was coming with.

“Only if you get one too.”

So, one thing you learned on your first day at the beach was that Mat Barzal hated the “adultness” of grocery shopping, but loved shopping when it was for fun. You loved the intrigued look on his face when you pulled him along into the store, with all its brightly colored merchandise and knickknacks for beachgoers and vacationers. You loved the way his eyes lit up as he watched the hermit crabs and their pretty hand painted shells with amazement and begged you to get one. And, most importantly, you loved the disgusted look on his face when you held up a busy, floral printed shirt and suggested he try it on. “No way.”

“Come on, you’d look good in it!” He’d look good in anything, honestly, but you couldn’t just tell him that. Friends, friends, friends. He shook his head and held up a less dramatic shirt.

“What about this?”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were one to play it safe, Mat.”

“I’m not playing it safe! That thing is…” He stopped and rolled his eyes, seeing your attempt at puppy dog eyes. Yeah, you could get literally anything you want out of him already, and those big, innocent eyes just had him melting on the spot. Like he realized this morning, you have him so wrapped around his finger. He wanted to be serious, but he couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the situation. “Do you really want me to buy it?”

��I won’t make you wear it ever again after this week, I swear! I’ll never bring it up again.”

“Fine.” He grimaced again at the pattern but couldn’t help the smile that played at his lips as he grabbed it from you. He would really do anything for you. He could imagine Tito laughing at him in his head, claiming he was just so whipped. Yeah, he decided, he definitely was. “But I get to pick something for you then.”

“Bring your worst, Barzy.”

At first, you had expected him to pick something embarrassing, or silly, or plain stupid looking, but this was Mat Barzal, you had to expect the unexpected. So when he came up to you with a big smile and his hands hidden behind his back, you didn’t know what he could have back there, but that smile meant it must have been something crazy. “You can’t back out after I show you.” It worried you a little that you couldn’t back out, but you were just as stubborn as him and you needed to see him in that Hawaiian shirt.

“Deal.”

“Alright.” He presented you with what he picked out with a little “Ta-da!” and smiled when your eyes widened at his selection. In his hands was nothing embarrassing, nothing strange like you expected him to get for you. It was a simple, beachy romper with a bow as a belt tied around the waist. It was actually pretty cute, although not generally something you would wear. “Do you like it?”

“Wow. Seriously?”

“What’s wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned, as if worried he’d done something wrong.

“Nothing. This is, like, actually cute. I thought you were gonna get me something embarrassing. I practically forced you to get a shirt you don’t even like, and now you’re being all nice, it’s kinda making me feel shitty!”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. The shirt’s not that bad. And, I just thought…” He paused and shifted his weight on his feet a bit. “Well, you look really nice in this color. And your birthday is in a few days. So, this can be your birthday look. Hey, you can't back out anymore. It was a deal.” You couldn’t stop yourself from curling your arms around his waist and hugging him, bringing your face into his chest. You didn’t loosen your grip until you felt his arms fold around you as well, and felt his chin dipping down to rest against the top of your head.

You gave his chest a playful whack. “You’re so stupid nice, Mat. You don’t have to wear the ugly shirt.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely wearing the ugly shirt.”

And he did.

The day passed much too quickly and the sun was soon setting on your first night on the beach, laying out a lovely backdrop for a family campfire down by the shore, just above the waterline. Mat had come out of the house, a bag of marshmallows in his hand and a smile on his face when he saw you laugh at his shirt. “What? I definitely rock this.”

“Can anyone really rock that pattern?”

“Me, duh.” He laughed and watched you run down to the water, your one piece swimsuit hugging your body as you smiled back at him for a moment and made his heart skip a beat.

You looked so pretty standing with your feet in the water and smiling over your shoulder at him like that, your hair was blowing around your face. He wanted so badly to bring you into his arms, hold you, tuck your hair behind your ears and take your face between his hands and just kiss you in the sunset. He felt a punch to his shoulder lightly and looked over to see your younger brother there. “Stop staring at her, you creep.”

Mat scrambled for an explanation, “I- uh I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Dude, shut up.” Your sister looked up from her phone “they’d be cute together.”

“Ew, that’s so gross…”

As your siblings started arguing back and forth, Mat moved aside to distance himself from them as politely as he could. It was nice to meet them and all, but he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was talking about his relationship with you. Anyway, he was here for you. Only you. He moved over to where your parents were sitting at what would soon be the fire and dropped the bag of marshmallows he’d gotten from the house. “You’re an angel, Mathew.” Your mom reached up to grab his face between her hands, startling him a bit. “I can see why my daughter wanted to bring you.”

“Oh, wow, thank you.”

“Mathew,” your father looked up from the sand and Mat worried he was going to bring up their conversation from this morning. The conversation about how Mat may possibly have more than platonic feelings for you- damn it, he hated that he caved and told him- and the conversation about what would happen if he hurt you. But no, your father pointed to the water. “It looks like (Y/N) wants you.”

Sure enough, you were standing there, waving for Mat and smiling at him again. He couldn’t bite back the smile on his face as he slid the shirt off of his shoulders and dropped it in the sand where your dad was already working on getting the fire started. “Well, do you need any help with the fire?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mathew,” your mother sighed with a smile, “Just go to her.”

The air was still warm, but the ocean was starting to cool, lapping cold against your ankles when Mat came up next to you. You could feel his arm graze against yours- he was standing that close to you, admiring the sunset- the pastel oranges and pinks lighting up across the sky hanging over the ocean. But none of the scene in front of you was as beautiful as what was next to you. The sun, low on the horizon, was casting it’s last rippling golden streams across the ocean and shining right across Mat, lighting him up like the Greek-God-like statue he was- bouncing off of the definition in his chest and abs, igniting his eyes with that dazzling green, and pulling that beautiful, gleaming smile onto his lips.

Wow.

“Beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He caught your eyes and you were done for.

Maybe it was the way the sun was bouncing off his immaculate bone structure, catching all the right places- the height of his cheekbones, the firmness of his torso, the color in his eyes- maybe it was the lack of space between the two of you, maybe it was the serotonin rushing through your veins, but in that moment everything beyond you and Mat standing in the water disappeared in your mind and your gaze fell to his lips- so warm and inviting…

Or maybe it was just hormones.

His hand reached for your arm, sparking up wildfires whenever his fingers danced across the surface of your skin. He parted his lips. “It’s so crazy that we’re actually back here after eleven years.” His whisper was soft, delicate, afraid to break the sweet moment.

“I know.” Your voice was shaky, nervous, and you took a moment to compose yourself, dragging your gaze away from the gorgeous man beside you and focusing on the waves lapping at your feet. “It’s so weird.”

“But it’s amazing.” His hand found it’s way down to yours, touching it softly, fingertips to fingertips but not exactly holding it. “You know, your family doesn’t seem as overwhelming as you made them sound.”

“Oh, no, my siblings are great. And my parents are great seperate, but together... just give it some time. They’re gonna snap.”

“And I’ll be there to take you away when they do.” He looked so genuine in the moment, no jokes, no teasing, just dead serious. He was here for you- you knew that. He sighed, turning towards the shore and pulling you along with a soft smile. “I think they got the fire started. Guess we should go join them.”

The last thing you wanted to do was leave your little bubble with Mat and rejoin your family, but when you settled down on the sand and leaned against Mat, it was all okay.

It made you feel butterflies, sitting so close to him, wrapped in a towel and sharing a blanket, feeling his thigh touching yours and seeing him all smiley and lit up by the light of the fire, the smell of salt in the air surrounding you and the sound of waves crashing behind you. It might have been a bit tense as your father questioned him, not quite knowing or trusting this boy their daughter brought along, but Mat easily blocked out any awkwardness.

When the conversation turned to Mat’s career, your mother seemed a bit concerned that he hadn’t gone to college. She was a sports fan, but when it came to you, she wanted your friends and especially boyfriends and potential husbands to be smart and successful. To her, that meant college, and just playing a sport wasn’t successful in her books. You knew Mat wouldn’t talk back to your mom, so you were determined to brag for him about all of his accomplishments. He may not have gone to college, but he was damn successful. “Actually, last year Mat got the Calder- he was the best rookie in the league.” You clarified for your mom. “And earlier this year he was in the All Star Game.”

“Oh, really? Congratulations, Mathew.” At least your dad seemed interested now. Mat smiled, obviously pleased to have your dad's approval. Approval? No, his respect, maybe. “You must be a pretty good player.”

“Thanks, sir.” He grinned to himself and looked over at you, proud he had seemingly gotten into good terms with your father.

“I’m sure I would’ve heard about you, but I stopped watching hockey a while back.”

“Why’d you stop watching?” It seemed like an innocent question, but it had everything coming to a stop. Mat had never been someone who killed the crowd at parties, so the awkwardness that fell over the group wasn’t something he was familiar or comfortable with. He saw the way your siblings immediately looked up from what they were doing as if something he said had sparked their interest. He saw the way your mother rolled her eyes and your father’s gaze narrow in her direction. He wasn’t dumb, and realized he must have struck a sour chord in the family drama.

Yikes.

“Things came up. Life happened, people happened. Couldn’t enjoy it anymore.” His voice went gruff, and your mom scoffed from across the campfire.

You decided, like always, to remove yourself before the argument would start. And you could feel it coming. “Okay… I think we’re gonna head inside now.” Blanket still wrapped around you, you dragged Mat to his feet and hurried to pull him away from the fire and up towards the house. Maybe you were holding him a little too close for friends to be, but he just always seemed to radiate heat and you were cold, so you couldn’t help the way your hand drifted up his arm. Okay, it may have been partially your fault. Maybe you should have told Mat about your parent’s mess of a marriage, or given him a list of topics to avoid, but obviously it was too late now. He didn’t speak until you were opening the back door.

“Shit, I messed that up pretty bad, didn’t I?”

“No, I probably should've told you about them. Sorry.” You laughed a little bit. “For future reference, my parents bonded over hockey and when they started hating each other, neither of them could enjoy it anymore. It sucks. So maybe don’t talk about hockey with them?”

“Great, it’s not like that’s one of the only things I know how to talk about.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Mat, believe it or not, you’re not just a hockey player. You’re a lot more than that.” You stopped outside your bedroom door and let your fingers glide down Mat’s arm, looking up at him with a smile. He was watching with soft, honey eyes and his pink lips- you swear to God- are just ever so slightly puckered, as if he’s begging to hear more praise. You didn’t want to let go of him just yet, and you’d do anything to keep the conversation flowing. “Hockey isn’t the only thing in that pretty brain of yours. You’ve got other interests. Other hobbies. And you’re just good at talking.”

“Wow,” He laughed a little bit, cheeks blazing. Mat’s heart was pumping fast. Here you were, standing so close to him with your fingers setting fires on his arm, smiling and complimenting him with that pretty mouth of yours, telling him he was more than he sold himself as- no one could blame him for feeling flustered. You could make him believe anything; just the way his name rolled off your lips had him starstruck, had him moving mountains for you. He was so hopelessly fascinated by you, but there was still that constant nagging of ‘friends friends just friends’ in his head, and he could only hope to make it through this week and come out with your relationship unchanged. He stood in the hallway, not wanting to say goodnight to you yet.

“And you really do rock this shirt, honestly.”

His smile gleamed, all white teeth and pink cheeks and scrunched up nose as he lifted his head in a burst of laughter. “Of course I do.”

“Alright, well, I have a bathroom attached to my bedroom so…” You finally let your hand fall off of Mat’s wrist, already missing the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. “This is goodnight.”

“Right.” Mat nodded before taking a few steps backwards to where his room was down the short hall. “Hey, at least we actually have seperate rooms tonight, right?”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

But, unbeknownst to you, Mat tossed and turned that night, unsure now of how to sleep in his own bed. No matter what, he just couldn’t stop thinking about the night before, when you had wrapped yourselves up in each other’s arms and fit so comfortably, so perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Mat would never admit the feelings he felt when first waking up to find you in his arms, how he laid and stared at you for almost an hour before getting out of bed, or how he everytime your eyes met you easily made him flustered and nervous, as if this was a first love- maybe it was. And he certainly would never admit the way he fell asleep tonight, on his side, with blazing cheeks and a racing mind, holding a pillow firm against his chest and pretending it was you.

The pillow wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.

#here it is!#smile like sunshine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #mine #op #fanfiction #imagine #fic

182 notes · View notes

rhinkthreeways · 4 years

Text

Glasses (Smutty Version)

Link slumped into the chair at Rhett’s dining room table. He and Rhett had just gotten in from grabbing some takeout for their Thursday night creative session. They’d begun this tradition of having an evening to themselves to brainstorm ideas for the documentary they’d started working on, researching how exactly ‘YouTube’ worked, and if it was a financially viable way to make money. On top of their day jobs, it was a lot of work. Some nights it was exhilarating, like they were on the verge of fulfilling the promise they’d made to each other to do something big together. And then there were nights like tonight where Link was so tired out and stretched thin that he didn’t feel like he had a creative muscle in his body to flex.

Rhett was quiet, which made Link feel bad. He didn’t like making people feel like they had to walk on eggshells around his bad moods. Least of all Rhett....

He took a deep breath. He self-consciously pushed his new glasses up his nose, and grit his teeth in frustration as he pulled the chicken sandwich from the grease-stained paper bag. He brought the sandwich up to his mouth, and then set it down more forcefully than was necessary before flinging his glasses off and across the kitchen table.

Rhett reflexively reached a hand out and easily caught the glasses before they completely skidded off the table to land on the tiled floor.

“Think ya dropped somethin’, buddyroll…”

“Thanks, smart ass.”

“What’s up, man? You’re all outta sorts.”

“I can’t… eat with these dang things on! I’m just not used to ‘em.”

“Your glasses? What’s that got to do with your mouth?”

“You don’t understand, because you don’t have to wear these dweeby things. But it’s like… it feels like a whole face shield. I can’t wear ‘em when I eat… or when I kiss….”

Link bit his ton and he felt a blush creep over his cheeks. He and Rhett didn’t really talk about stuff like that. Rhett’s eyes had gone wide with mock surprise, and a playful grin spread across his face.

“Aww, you havin’ trouble kissin’? Need some help practicing?”

If Link was blushing before, his face was absolutely on fire now. But he’d be damned if he was gonna let Rhett make him feel uncomfortable. Two could play at that game.

“Don’t be writing checks that those lips can’t cash, McLaughlin.”

“You got no idea how deep the pockets of these lips are lined.” Rhett licked his lips seductively.

Link could feel himself swelling in his pants, but he simply rolled his eyes. “I think the metaphor is going off the rails a little bit…”

“Then how ‘bout we drop it? Kiss me, Link.”

Link swallowed. “What? Are you serious?”

“Why not? Lemme build your confidence.”

Everything inside of Link was on high alert, guarding against some kind of test or trick. But Rhett’s voice was sincere, and the way he was looking at him was so soft. Link’s eyes darted quickly to his lips and away.. they also looked very soft… and warm.

Rhett walked over to where Link was seated. He helped Link to stand, and slid his glasses back onto his face. Rhett’s fingers lingered at Link’s ears and slowly traced down Link’s jawline.

When Rhett’s lips connected with his, Link wasn’t thinking about his glasses. Link realized this kiss was unlike any he’d ever shared with anyone else. Not only was he not thinking about his glasses, he wasn’t thinking about anything aside from the kiss. The moment. He was fully present.

After a few minutes, Link’s heart was hammering inside his chest and he was rock hard in his jeans. He pressed himself against Rhett’s leg, wanting him to know it.

“Feelin confident, Neal?” Rhett teased softly.

“Definitely feelin something.”

“Your glasses look good on you, y’know?”

“I look like a freakin dork,” Link murmured against Rhett’s lips.

“You look incredibly sexy.”

“And we’re talkin about being in front of a camera and stuff. Man… it’s just not the look I envisioned for myself.”

“It’s gonna be an iconic look.”

Link found himself smiling at Rhett’s compliments. His confidence was growing in spite of himself.

He noticed something of Rhett’s was growing as well, and on a whim he slid down Rhett’s body and onto his knees.

“Link, what’re you—”

“Thought you said I was sexy?”

“You are, but.. you don’t have to…”

Rhett inhaled sharply as Link pressed against his package, and opened Rhett’s zipper to slide Rhett’s drawers down until his hard and heavy cock sprang forward.

Link wrapped his lips around Rhett’s girth and comfortably closed his eyes behind his glasses as he felt Rhett’s warm thickness slide along his tongue and knock against the roof of his mouth. Link suppressed his gag reflex and began to bob his head, feeling his throat take Rhett deeper and deeper. He began to choke and sputter and his glasses slipped down his nose. Link ignored them and continued to move his lips up and down Rhett’s shaft.

Rhett’s fingers reached down to push his glasses up, and Link hummed his appreciation.

When Rhett was close he affectionately tapped at Link’s cheek, breaths broken, barely able to form words. “I’m gonna… I’m close, bo… gonna. Gonna come!”

Link pulled off and a string of drool hung between his bottom lip and the tip of Rhett’s cock as it erupted in pleasure, coating Link’s bespectacled face with warm streaks of jizz.

“Goodness, Link,” Rhett heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Link looked up at him from down on his knees, having to look over his frames, unable to see clearly through the mess on his lenses.

Rhett rubbed his thumb over Link’s plump bottom lip, wiping it clean and humming happily. “Now this is an iconic look… Maybe a little too hot for TV?”

Link beamed. “I think I’ll be able to get used to… eating with glasses.”

#rhink #rhink fic #rtw: smut #writer: likeaswitchinheat #prompt: glasses #lemon

42 notes · View notes

fuzzhugs · 4 years

Text

Cycle - Redwall Midwinter Gift Exchange 2020-2021

Made as part of the @redwall-midwinter-gift-exchange. A gift for @autobot-scout-riella.

“Exactly how far north are we?” Dandin asked Mariel as he shivered against the cold wind blowing in from the sea. “I think my blood is about to freeze.”

The Pearl Queen had made ground along the sandy shores of the far Northlands. Together with Bowly Pintips, the three warriors had been sailing for nearly a season since leaving Mossflower, traveling wherever the wind took them, stopping at whatever island or stretch of mainland took their fancy.

None of them had any great experience sailing, and after floundering around for several days, they came across a group of sea otters who had spotted their vessel in distress. A dozen of the younger otters, keen to explore the oceans, joined Mariel, Dandin, and Bowly, bringing their knowledge of the ocean wind and waves, helping ensure the vessel didn’t sink or run aground.

Mariel responded to Dandin’s complaint by throwing another cloak at him. “I didn’t realize sailing around the tropics had made you soft.”

“I’m not soft, I just prefer having feeling in my footpaws.”

“Better wrap ‘em up then. We’re gonna be staying until we’ve resupplied.”

“Assuming we can find anything edible in a place this cold.”

“That’s why you and I are going to go scout around.”

“Abandoning ship, mateys?” Bowly Pintips came up to them.

“We’re going to go see if we can find food for the stores,” Mariel informed him.

“What about me? Just supposed to stay here and sit on my paws?”

Bowly was young and often stubborn. Mariel saw a lot of her younger self in him. Though he had been reliable in the past, he was not highly experienced in foraging or wayfinding on land, so Mariel found him another task to do.

“Help the otters set up a camp along the shore. We’ll probably be staying here a number of days. Keep the tents on the windward side of the Pearl Queen. We’ll stay a bit warmer that way. Scrounge for driftwood as firewood too. We’re going to need to keep a fire going.”

Bowly gave an exaggerated salute and marched off to issue orders to the otters, Mariel and Dandin fighting to stifle their giggles over his comically serious demeanor.

Before leaving the ship, both Mariel and Dandin bundled up against the cold, wearing multiple layers and wrapping up their footpaws in strips of cloth. With practiced skill, they shimmied down the ropes and landed on the beach, marching along the cold, wet sand.

As the beach transitioned into plains, the ground became hard. The dirt itself was frozen. The otters had spoken of lands where there was no summer and the earth was permanently frosted over. Dandin found the idea of a land without summer hard to believe, but Mariel, after everything she had seen in her life, found there was very little that was impossible.

While the two mice wandered, they found a few bushes that managed to grow despite the cold. The berries produced by the bushes were bitter, but edible. Mariel noted their location and began making plans to send a foraging party to gather them later.

A short time later, Dandin stopped and squinted into the distance. “I think I see a pair of trees up ahead. On top of that hill.”

Mariel stood beside him and squinted as well. They had not yet seen any other trees along the plain, so it would be strange to see any standing alone in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, there they were. Atop a distant hill, two of the oddest-looking trees Mariel had ever seen. The trunks curved upward in an unusual fashion and the branches that she could see were bare of leaves.

“They look dead,” Mariel said.

“I still want to have a look,” Dandin replied. “We’ll be able to see for miles if we make the climb.”

Mariel nodded, and the two mice set off toward their new destination.

The hill was covered in a layer of thick, brown grass, coated with a thin layer of frost like much of the rest of the landscape. Shortly after beginning their ascent, Mariel and Dandin began to notice there was something odd about the hill.

“This grass is strange,” Mariel told Dandin, running her paw up and down the wiry strands. “It doesn’t feel like a plant.”

“And have you noticed that the ground feels softer and warmer than on the plain? Do you think we should leave?”

“I’m not afraid of a hill. I’m going to the top.” Mariel continued toward the trees near the summit. Not wanting to be left behind, Dandin hurried after her.

“What manner of trees are these?” Mariel wondered aloud as she felt the trunks. “No bark, no twigs, no sign of any buds. This doesn’t feel like wood, it’s more like…bone.”

“Let me feel,” Dandin stepped forward and rapped his paw firmly against the strange tree.

The ground began to rumble and shake, and the hill seemed to sway from side to side. Both Mariel and Dandin were forced to hang on to the tree in order to stay upright.

“What did you do?!”Mariel shouted as the rumbling intensified.

“I didn’t do anything!” Dandin shouted back as he clung to the tree with his eyes shut tight.

Mariel glanced over the crest of the hill to see if it was collapsing, only to see the ground was getting farther and farther away. They were rising into the air.

“Dandin,” Mariel said, her voice nearly a whisper, “this isn’t a hill.”

“What do you mean this isn’t a hill?” Dandin said, still clinging to the tree.

“It’s not a hill, it’s a creature. Some enormous creature.”

The rumbling and movement stopped as the creature held still. Now that it was upright, Mariel could tell that she and Dandin were standing directly on top of its head, which was higher from the ground than the roof of the Abbey. The creature stood on four legs ending in hooves. Mariel opened her mouth to speak when a booming voice rang out from beneath them.

“K’to tam naverk’hu?”

Mariel’s ears rang. This creature was louder than even her father’s bell that now hung back at Redwall. Whatever the creature was saying, she didn’t understand it.

“Ch’to tii delayesh ‘s moyey golovoy?” the creature spoke again, just as loud as the first time.

To the side, there was what Mariel took to be an ear. She yelled at it as loud as possible. “I’m sorry! I don’t understand you! We don’t mean you any harm!”

“Ah, small-folk,” the creature said, now speaking more quietly. It lowered its head to the ground and Mariel and Dandin scurried off. “What are you doing upon my head?”

“We thought you were a hill,” Dandin explained. “We were going to climb those…trees on you head to look around the plain. We’ve never seen a creature like you before.”

“My antlers. My people are called ‘deer.’ You small ones are not from around here, I am thinking.”

“We are travelers. Our apologies for disturbing you.”

“It is no matter. It is time for me to rejoin my herd.”

“Your… herd?”

“My kind travels in groups. For safety. For companionship.”

“Can we see?” Mariel asked, ever interested in seeing new things.

The deer lowered his head and Mariel eagerly climbed back on. Dandin followed more cautiously.

“You never told us your name,” Mariel called down toward the deer’s ear.

“Rufus,” the deer said. “I am called Rufus.”

Every step Rufus took was jarring, but the mice could tell that the deer was moving slowly and trying to step gently. He brought them over hills and waded through what would have been an impassable river to creatures of Mariel’s and Dandin’s size. Rufus came to a stop above a broad valley, and Mariel and Dandin were breathless at what they saw.

The valley was filled with others of Rufus’ kind. Some had antlers, others did not. The sea of reddish-brown fur seemed to sway and flow like the ocean. The number of deer before them was uncountable. Steam rose from the valley floor out of great pits in the ground, further obscuring the true size of the herd in a thick fog.

“Even in winter, this valley is kept warm by the heat from the earth,” Rufus said, “but we often must leave to find foraging ground.”

“Why not live further south?” Dandin asked. “It is warmer there, and there are plenty of good things to eat.”

“I did once wander far to the south. I have seen your forests. While their beauty is clear, they are not suitable for a herd of deer. The trees would crowd us in and keep us from running.”

“Running?” Mariel questioned.

“We are not the only creatures of this cold and barren land. There are others. The wolves hunt us down and consume us.”

The thought of one creature eating another sickened Mariel. Eating a fish was one thing, but even among vermin, only the worst would consume the flesh of another.

Now in the midst of the herd, Rufus stopped as another deer stepped up to him. They rubbed their muzzles together in some form of greeting.

“My mate, Sylva,” Rufus said, introducing the female of his kind.

“Privet malysh’ki. Dobro pozhalovat’ v’ nashu dolinu,” the deer said in her own tongue.

Sylva does not speak your language,” Rufus said to Mariel and Dandin, “but she welcomes you to our home.”

“How is it that you speak as we do?” Mariel asked.

“I was once as I imagine you are. A traveler. An explorer. I wandered a great distance from the herd, eager to see the world. I saw many great things and learned much on my travels, but I eventually realized I had wandered enough, and I returned to my home. Perhaps one day you will feel the same and return to where you came from.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever tire of traveling and exploring,” Mariel said.

“Maybe so. At the time, I desired to return to Sylva,” Rufus nuzzled his mate affectionately, “but I see you travel with your mate. Perhaps this will be enough for you.”

“We’re not,” Mariel started to say while Dandin shifted his paws awkwardly, but a loud bellowing interrupted her and echoed across the valley. Every deer perked up its ears and spun its head in the direction of the call.

Before Mariel or Dandin could ask about the noise, Rufus had spun around and began to run alongside Sylva. Neither mouse had ever traveled at such speed. As the wind rushed by, Mariel and Dandin clung to Rufus’ antlers, fighting to maintain their position as Rufus bounded along, adding to the thunderous rumbling of countless hooves pounding the earth.

As the entire herd ran, Mariel glimpsed grey figures running near the edge of the herd, driving the deer one way and then another as they fought to escape.

“Rufus, what’s happening?” Mariel shouted, trying to make herself heard over the din.

“Wolves,” Rufus gasped as he panted. “The hunters. The killers.”

As the herd ran on, the mice managed to see the wolves more clearly. They ran on all fours like the deer. Ears back and fangs showing, saliva dripping down their sharp teeth the wolves looked like monsters.

Within minutes, the deer had crossed a distance that would have taken the mice most of the day, but still the wolves pursued.

There was a scream of pain, and as quickly as the chase began, it ended. The wolves swarmed around a fallen deer and began their carnage, ignoring all of the other deer as they ate.

The herd continued to run for several more minutes before all the deer halted their retreat and settled on a new stretch of grassland. Rufus was panting heavily, his breath steaming out of his mouth and nostrils. On his head, Mariel and Dandin were likewise breathing heavily, their hearts pounding and limbs trembling.

“Are you small ones injured?” Rufus asked once he had regained his breath.

Dandin helped Mariel to her feet. “We’re fine, Rufus. How long until the wolves come again?”

“They will not hunt again for several days,” Rufus said casually. “They have made their kill and will be satisfied for some time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mariel said. “Did you know the one who…fell?”

“No, but his sacrifice will be remembered.”

“Sacrifice?” Mariel asked, confused.

“One dies, the rest of the herd survives. This is the way it has always been.”

Mariel was shocked at Rufus’ seemingly callous to the loss of his comrade. “How can you say that? Those wolves are monsters!”

“They require food just as any other creature. They must consume meat in order to survive.”

“And why must their survival cost your people their lives!?”

“It would be far worse for us if the wolves did not chase us. If they did not take from us, our numbers would grow until we had consumed all of the plants in the land, and then we would all slowly starve to death, as would all the other creatures who call this land home. The chase ensures that we are strong enough to endure the harshness of the north. The old and inured who would otherwise perish painfully are given the dignity of a quick death. The death of one allows the herd to survive. Likewise, we encourage the wolves to be strong. If we did not run, the wolves would become fat and indolent. They would die as soon as hardship took hold. It is all necessary. The land needs us. The land needs the wolves. The wolves need us. We need the wolves.”

Mariel scowled, unhappy with Rufus’ explanation. “There must be another way.”

“What do you suggest? My kind do not have the clever paws to farm the land as you small folk do, nor are the wolves able to catch fish. While our way may seem unpleasant to you, it is nonetheless our way, and we must continue in it if we are to survive. Come, I will take you back to where we met.”

Rufus crossed the valley with the mice riding along. The wolves were still gathered around the fallen deer. Mariel made to look away when she saw the smallest of wolves nearby, running around and playing with each other as they stumbled on their inexperienced paws.

“Though they will grow to chase us done,” Rufus said, “I can still see value in their existence. Do the pups not deserve a chance to grow and thrive?”

Mariel did not answer. She was through arguing with Rufus. She remained silent until they reached the spot where they had mistaken Rufus for a hill. She gave him a cordial farewell, though she remained fuming inside. On the way back to the ship, Mariel and Dandin stopped to gather some of the berries they had spotted before.

Back at camp, the others were thoroughly impressed by the story Mariel and Dandin told them. Bowly was jealous that he hadn’t been along to meet Rufus. Mariel let Dandin do most of the telling as she warmed herself by the driftwood fire, staring into the flames as she regarded the northlands. She could not understand the casual way Rufus accepted the death of his fellow deer. Living and dying based on chance seemed an awful way to exist. Even as the fire died and everybody went off to sleep, the thoughts continued to run through Mariel’s mind until she too drifted off into slumber.

The next day, Mariel went off on her own, searching for other sources of food besides the bitter berries they had found the day before. She had wandered to the south where the grass was taller, hoping to find something edible hidden between the tall, leafy blades.

Late in the morning, Mariel’s ears caught the sound of some creature in distress. With a high jump, she was able to see over the grass into the distance where a pair of ravens were swooping down, harassing some creature who Mariel could not see. Pushing through the grass, Mariel made a beeline toward the ravens, getting her Gullwhacker ready to deliver a painful lesson to the disagreeable birds.

She came out of the grass swinging, delivering a solid blow to the skull of one of the ravens in mid-swoop. The birds gave a harsh cry and switched their attention to Mariel, diving toward her with talons outstretched.

With a whirlwind of blows, Mariel pummeled the birds with the knotted Gullwhacker, striking at the wings, heads, and beaks until they understood that their time would be better spent elsewhere.

Pushing through the rest of the grass, she came to where the raven’s victim lay. Mariel came to a sudden stop when she saw what it was. It was one of the wolves, but a young one. Though it was only a pup, it still stood as tall as a young badger. It was covered in scratches from the ravens’ talons, but it seemed unperturbed by its injuries now that the birds were gone. Its attention was now fully focused on Mariel.

Before Mariel could decide whether or not to run, the wolf shoved its face toward her a made a series of loud sniffs before it drew its tongue up the length of her body, leaving her clothes and fur slightly damp from its saliva.

“You’re welcome,” Mariel said, shaking herself dry. “I’ll just be going now.”

As Mariel turned to leave, she was suddenly lifted from the ground. The pup had grabbed the back of her cloak and was carrying her away, trotting along without a care in the world. Mariel thrashed about, trying to free herself, but the pup’s grip was too tight and Mariel was too small to have much of an impact on the pup’s behavior.

The pup continued carrying Mariel over several miles as she hung helplessly in its grasp. She had tried reasoning with the wolf, but either it did not understand her or did not care to listen to her, so Mariel waited, biding her time until she had an opportunity to run, though she had serious doubts that she would be able to outrun even this little wolf.

When they reached a clearing, Mariel spotted a fully grown wolf with several other pups nearby. When the adult saw the pup carrying Mariel, she bounded over and began to speak to the pup.

“Nikolas, ya zhe skazal tebe ne ukhodit. K’to eto? Chto vii nadelali?”

Though Mariel did not understand the words, she recognized the tone. At Redwall, she had heard Mother Mellus use the same sort of voice when scolding the dibbuns. Whatever this pup had done had evidently displeased its mother.

The pup responded, dropping Mariel as it did so, but its answer was more of a series of barks than an actual language. Nonetheless, the mother understood her pup and turned her eyes down toward Mariel.

“Tii ranen, malen’kiy?” the wolf asked, waiting for Mariel to talk.

“Sorry I…I don’t understand,” Mariel responded, fighting to remain calm while facing down the giant monster. “I don’t know your language.”

The wolf straightened up and closed her eyes for a few moments. “I speak…small tongue…little. Son say you… save son. This wolf… thanks you. My name… Sveta.” Sveta sniffed the air and looked back down at Mariel. “No need… fear. No harm you.” Sveta sniffed again. “You been with deer.”

“I met them yesterday,” Mariel said, finding her voice. “I saw them being hunted.”

Sveta nodded. “I not there. Hunters bring food… for mothers with pups.” She gave Mariel an appraising look. “I am feeling… you do not like this.”

“It is cruel,” Mariel said, unafraid to speak her mind. “Killing other creatures and… eating them,” she shuddered in disgust.

“Cruel to let pups eat?” Sveta asked. “Wolves no fish. No catch bird. No eat grass. Better to let pups die?”

“There must be another way. Some way for both deer and wolf to exist without all this killing.”

“You not first to think this. Grandfather Urgan try to abandon hunt. Leave pack. Not seen again.”

Mariel’s ears perked up at the name but she kept silent.

“Wolves not forget what deer give up. Come with Sveta. Sveta show you way of wolf.”

Sveta knelt down and allowed Mariel to climb atop her head. She barked something at her pups and led them out of the clearing along a trail which wound up into the hillside. The path took them to the bottom of a cliff that had undergone a rockslide at some point in the ancient past. Resting among the rocks and boulders were hundreds of deer skulls, some with antlers, other without. They were all perfectly aligned, obviously placed with care and purpose.

“Wolves not forget,” Sveta stated firmly. She stepped forward and brushed her face against one of the skulls an in almost intimate gesture. “Every moon pack visit memory hill. Remember prey. Thank prey,” she dug at a pile of dried vegetation, “bring offering to prey. Prey not only food. Prey are life. Life of pups. Life of wolves. Life of pack. Disrespect to prey, disrespect to pack. No kill without need. Punishment for wasting life high. Cherish life of prey. Cherish own life. Even pups know this.”

Mariel looked and saw that Sveta’s pups were walking up to skulls and imitating their mother’s gesture. Mariel had not seen any devotion to life this deep anywhere outside of Redwall, and though its form here was strange, it was not unrecognizable.

“The deer know of this?” Mariel asked.

“Deer know well. Deer know value. All have place in cycle. It is way. Small mouse understand?”

“I understand better than I did, but it is still difficult to grasp.”

“Small mouse need time to think,” Sveta proposed. “Sveta bring back to plains.”

Sveta gathered her pups and took them all back down the hills and through the clearing to where Mariel had fought the ravens. Sveta knelt down once again and let Mariel slide off her head and onto the ground.

“Thank mouse once again. Pup precious to Sveta and pack. Sveta remember mouse well.”

“Thank you, Sveta,” Mariel said. “I hope your pups grow up strong.”

Sveta nodded and called to her pups. Within moments, they were off, darting through the wilderness, no doubt going to rejoin their pack.

Dandin was visibly relieved when Mariel returned to the campsite. She had been gone much longer than she had intended, and with giant creatures roaming the land, it was no wonder he had been worried. Mariel didn’t say much, but sat by the fire, thinking about the way of life of the deer and the wolves.

“This is a strange land, Dandin,” Mariel said, “but perhaps not as strange as we first thought.”

#redwall #redwall midwinter gift exchange 2021 #mariel #dandin

14 notes · View notes

imjeralee · 4 years

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 19 - “Just Friends”

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: I am going on a break, I’m going to take some time off this story and relax.

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell here is the latest update

"Just Friends"

…

[From: Jace

Text message

Wed, 14, 4.57PM.

Hey chuck!!! How r u? Wanna meet up tomorrow? let me know if you're free! there's someone I want you to meet :)]

…

You’re slowly getting the hang of waking up in the morning and Jace has asked you to meet him today but prior to that, you have a window of opportunity to visit your mentor for a good hour or so.

The Corviknight taxi deposits you at the gates of Greyon's Cemetery; it is far more comforting to the eyes during the day, with the lack of ghost pokemon lurking within and the steely, heavy mist that swamps the entire the vicinity during late night hours.

Without further ado, you push the gates open and stroll inside, leisurely venturing down the twisted, stony path that leads to the mausoleum, glancing at the faded gravestones sticking out of the cold ground and the decorative sculptures with the overgrown moss and faded writing until you spot your mentor sleeping on the steps, clutching an empty can of beer to his chest whilst Absol curls up by his feet.

“Ezra?” you say aloud, and the old man responds with a snort and rubs at his nose briefly with his fingerless gloves before he sluggishly opens his eyes.

His gaze does not concentrate on anything in particular, even when you hop over and seat yourself on the stone steps by his side.

Emitting a low groan, Ezra sits up, cracks a few bones in his neck and shoulders at the same time and yawns loudly.

“Hnrgh…you’re here,” he grumbles raspily under his breath as he tosses the beer can away.

“Yeah," you reply, and Absol wakes up too, stretching on her front paws. She joins her master to sit upright on the steps and licks at her paw.

“What’re you doing here so early? It’s morning.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hn. Trying to integrate back into society, are you?”

“I guess… actually, I’m not gonna work on any cases for the time being so there’s no need for me to keep going out at night. And I’m meeting Jace later.”

“I see. Good for you, kid.”

“Have you been eating well?”

Ezra gestures to his pile of booze that has been messily laid in front of a gravestone near the fountain and nods. Flicking his empty gaze to you, he assesses you quietly, rubbing his chin with one hand.

“Somethin’ about you seems different,” he says with a grunt, his white eyes sweeping over your form.

“What is it??”

He narrows his eyes and Ezra breezily pinpoints the shimmering bright light that surrounds your silhouette, convulsing and coiling and emitting from your very core. You’ve always had it but it seems stronger.

“It’s so bright. I’ve never seen anything like it before. What happened to you when you were at Rose’s art gallery?”

You’ve informed him previously that you were taking Rose’s case and so you tell him everything and gesture to your bandaged arm and he listens, occasionally nodding and taking swigs of a new can of beer and harrumphing at random times until you finish.

And when he hears that you expelled an evil spirit out of your body, he nods to himself. “Well done."

“Thank Ezra, but Leon helped me. If it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

“But you did, and that’s very impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who has the ability to do that.”

You look at him in confusion, tilting your head to the side and he chuckles.

“You know what I’m talking about. Hell, maybe you’ll start seeing them in broad daylight like I do. From now on, be on your guard at all times. You need to proceed with caution; you might be able to see an’ hear more of ‘em often than you want.”

“...Is this what Rosie had too?”

He nods.

“And that’s why spirits were always attracted to her, why she was so vulnerable?”

A brief nod is your answer.

If only you had met Ezra earlier. He’s the only one who truly understands you and the pain and agony you’ve suffered. And if you had met him earlier, you could’ve brought Rosie to see him, he would’ve known what to do. He could’ve saved her.

He could’ve saved them all and-

Ezra slides a gnarled hand into the holey pockets of his duster and pulls out a folded talisman, nudging it to you. “Keep this on you at all times. It will protect you.”

“Thanks,” you utter as you pocket the talisman safely into your bag, “Ezra, do you think I should start looking for Dusknoir now?”

“Heh. You don’t need to ask me. You know what to do, and you know it’s nothing to do with the pokemon,” he says, before he fumbles his pockets for a cigarette and lights it up. Sucking a deep drag, he exhales with a heavy sigh, filling the atmosphere with a crisp and acrid stench, “I won’t sugarcoat it for you… It’ll come for you one day but when that day comes, I know you’ll be ready.”

You say quietly, “Hey...Ezra?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

He emits a soft hum under his breath. “…’welcome.”

“And uh, Spiritomb escaped too.”

He doesn’t appear surprised and waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, I know. It’s fine, leave ‘im to me. I’ll take care of the bloody swirly bastard.”

As you nod, Ezra inhales another deep drag briefly before he splutters, hacking and heaving violently before a thin stream of red pools out from the corner of his cracked lips.

“Ah, fuck.”

Turning to the side, he spits some of the gunk out and wipes his chin whilst Absol begins purring loudly with concern.

“I’m fine,” he croaks out, coughing.

“No, you’re not. You need to go to hospital.”

When he’s finished coughing, he soaks up the rest of the cigarette and utters, “I’m going soon. Take a look at this.”

You are presented with a folded letter, you unfurl the paper to reveal an insignia of a hospital stamped at the top; you scan the remainder of the letter where there are several prevalent words along with some Braille.

“Lung carcinoma??” you exclaim, eyes wide. "Cancer...?"

"Yeah."

Shaking your head in disbelief, you grow limp in your seat as you clutch the letter meekly in hands. It’s taunting you.

Everything is.

…

Ezra is dying.

He’s old and he’s aware he smokes and drinks like a degenerate.

It’s inevitable.

Laden with heavy thoughts, you arrive at Jace’s apartment in a dour mood; everything seems so insignificant as of now. Life is too short after all. You want to spend some more time with your mentor but he encouraged you to go and see your friend. So here you are.

And you certainly don’t reciprocate Jace’s huge grin when he opens the door after you’ve rung the doorbell.

“Chuck, you’re here!” he exclaims before he ushers you in.

He’s wearing his Ball Guy uniform, missing his mascot mask. The more you look at it, the more you just cannot get used to that red polo and shorts combo which is apparently an abomination to fashionistas.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, when he sees your darkened expression.

“N-nothing,” you say, forcing a smile.

He purses his lips but remains quiet when you reassure him once more that you’re fine. He’s not alone. There are two suitcases standing by his shoe rack and a huge Luxray snoozing on the couch. You recall he has a visitor from Sinnoh and he wants you to meet someone and so you spot this friend standing in the kitchen with his back to you and when he turns round, a pair of cerulean eyes meets yours and you grow still on the spot.

Jace is quick to get you back on the move, steering you towards his direction with hands planted on your shoulders.

“Yo Volkner, I want you to meet my friend!!!!”

When you’re finally in front of the young man, your gazes meet for a second time. The young man has blonde hair fashioned in a spiked style and you’re quite certain you have seen him before perhaps from a magazine or a website. He’s dressed in a black v-neck shirt and dark blue denims, with a light blue coat slung over one shoulder.

“Chuck, right?” he says. He has a smooth voice, deeper than Jace's. More mature.

“Noooo, that’s just my nickname for her. Her name is-”

As Jace speaks, he is drowned by the sounds of a horn blaring noisily from a truck that passes the flat.

Regardless, Volkner nods.

You look at Jace questioningly who merely grins at you and winks. For you to hear, he says, “Volkner can be a little aloof but he’s a great guy.”

Then he pats you on the shoulder and beams widely at the two of you.

“Let me fill you in. Chuck, I’m really sorry, but I need a favour from you. I asked if you were free today because my good buddy Volkner needs a grand tour of Wyndon and of course I was supposed to do it and it would've been nice if we all went together but my stupid boss just called me and demanded me to go to work right now.”

You blink sluggishly. “Oh…I’m so sorry, Jace.”

“It’s alright; Volkner understands and doesn’t mind; it would be great if you could show him around for the time being. He was the guest judge for the Beauty Pageant but he got this fancy ride to the stadium and back so he doesn't remember how to get there; you could quickly show him Wyndon Stadium, and he’s got a meeting at the Rose of the Rondelands too so if you could show him that and also the-“

“Jace,” Volkners says.

“Yeah?”

“….I can take it from here.”

“Okay, okay,” Jace nods and grabs his Ball Guy mask that was sitting on the floor, along with his bag, “Sorry chuck.”

“It’s okay, Jace. I don’t mind showing Volkner around.”

“Thanks chuck! Thank you so much!”

Flicking a quick glimpse to Volkner, you gulp inwardly when your heart appears to quicken as he levels your gaze once more.

Volkner is good-looking. Tall, blonde, handsome and lean, you cannot help but stare as he sets his mug down on the counter and offers you his hand. You slide your hand into his and as he shakes your hand, he says, “I’m Volkner. I’m the gym leader of Sunyshore City. Do you like electric type pokemon?”

Jace groans incoherently and Volkner throws him a sideways glance.

“What?” asks the gym leader.

Exasperated by his actions somehow, Jace can only shrug and shake his head whilst you reply, “I heard you constructed your gym puzzle out of sheer boredom. Is that true?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Oh, okay. That’s cool. I’m a ghost-type researcher. Here’s my card,” you delve into your bag and procure a nice and shiny card for him to take.

“Ghost-types, huh?” he murmurs as he twirls your business card front and back with his long fingers.

“Yeah.”

“What pokemon do you have?”

“I have a Gengar, Mimikyu and a Runerigus at hand right now.”

“Your Gengar,” Volkner says, “What moves does he know?”

“Shadow Ball, Confuse Ray….Dark Pulse…and he also knows this psychic move but I actually don’t know what it is. He used it when we were in this cave and we were getting attacked by snow but somehow he stopped all the snow particles in mid-air and reversed it.”

“It was probably ‘Psychic’.”

“Yeah, it probably was.”

“Did you know Gengar can learn Thunder Punch, Thunderbolt and Thunder via TM?”

“No, I did not.”

“Do you want him to learn? It could help vary his techniques so he can face off against various opponents.”

“That’s a good point but I don’t know, I’ll have to ask him.”

“Sure, let me know. I have some spares which I can share with you.”

“That would be very nice.”

“They’re powerful moves. One can say they’re shocking.”

Despite delivering that line with a straight face, Jace, who has been listening to your conversation silently, cannot help but grimace and tiredly rolls his eyes whilst you blink for a brief moment or so before you chuckle and Volkner cracks a smile at your response.

Jace ceases his wincing and gapes at you two in bewilderment, having witnessed your entire interaction.

“Oh.... my….Arceus,” he breathes, swapping alarmed glances between you and Volkner, “I was right. Holy Mudkip! Well, you two seem to get along great! I-I need to go to work right now!”

“Okay,” you reply, “Leave Volkner with me. He’ll be in good hands.”

“Thanks, chuck! See you around!”

“Bye Jace,” you and Volkner bid your friend farewell and Jace rushes out of his apartment with his Ball Guy mask and bag under one arm, whooping loudly.

“I wonder what that was all about,” you reply, before you glance up at the blonde and he throws his glimpse to you, “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Volkner replies, gently sliding his hands into his pockets, “So Miss Tour Guide, where shall we head to first?”

Volkner’s a pretty busy guy, you recall. He has a lot to do during his time here.

“I’ll take you to Wyndon Stadium first, we’ll walk along the promenade where you can see the river and the ferris wheel. We can visit Rose Tower if you’re interested, then we'll pop by Rose of the Rondelands and we can also grab a bite to eat if you get hungry. I know a good place.”

“Lead the way,” he replies, and he recalls Luxray after a brief introduction to the gleaming eyes pokemon, then lets you leave the apartment first. You both exit Jace’s apartment and onto the main street.

With Volkner lingering by your side, you make your way to the promenade, showing him the street signs should he ever find himself in Wyndon on his lonesome.

“It’s easy to get lost here,” you say, and Leon briefly pops up in your mind.

Ah, Leon.

You hadn’t heard from him since this morning.

You wonder how he’s doing.

You want to see him.

“It’s this way, right?” Volkner says, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Ah, yes, that’s correct.”

The streets are heavily populated today and many people stare as you stroll along. They can tell he’s not from Galar, possibly due to his hairstyle and fashion. However, he doesn’t respond to their staring and pads along you with his hands in his pockets, drinking in the scenery and the architecture.

“How did you become a ghost-type researcher?” he asks.

“My family specialises in ghost-types and I’ve always felt drawn to them.”

“If you ever visit Sinnoh, I’ll introduce you to Fantina. You would have a lot to talk about,” Volkner replies, and when he sees your clueless expression, he adds, “she’s the gym leader of Hearthome City. She uses ghost-types and she can see spirits, so I guess you can as well?”

Volkner does not beat around the bush.

Surprisingly enough, you don’t find yourself feeling too uncomfortable and so you nod, “…I can, yeah.”

You wonder what response you will elicit; maybe he’d laugh or shrug you off and tell you he doesn’t believe in ghosts.

But instead he says, “What do they look like?” and you gawk at him.

No-one has ever asked you this before.

“It depends. Sometimes they appear exactly the way they were when they died. Others appear polished and clean, looking as they did in a particular point of their life….usually when they were most happiest. They’re usually transparent….then there are evil spirits, who are so warped by evil they lose shape and form and appear as either a black mass or scrawling dark shadows.”

Now that you’re talking about ghosts again, you cannot seem to stop.

“Actually, before I came here to see you and Jace, I visited my mentor and he said I might begin to see them during broad daylight too, which is disturbing because usually entities are more active and make their presences known at night, and that’s why I’m always investigating at late hours and usually I’m not even awake during the day.”

Volkner absorbs it and you’re waiting for him to say something to you somewhere along the lines of you being a kook or whatnot but nothing of that sort happens and again, you’re astounded when you realise he has not come under the impression that you are unhinged.

“I see. That’s interesting. It must be tough for you right now to show me around at this time.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m actually on a break right now so I’m trying to come out more during the day.”

“Is that so?”

You nod. “Did Jace tell you?”

“What?”

“We just got discharged from hospital; I took a case and it ended up…well, I wouldn’t say it ended badly but me and Jace did get hurt.”

“Yes, he told me but he said he’s unharmed. Is that the reason why your arm is bandaged?”

“Yeah. I’ve got stitches.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“Uh….”

You’re a little apprehensive but considering he’s been rather open with you, you decide to tell him about Rose’s case and the haunted art gallery.

You breeze along the promenade; there is a separate strip for cyclists who speed past you in their triathlon gear and runners jog together, chatting amiably about gym battles and the Beauty Pageant. Several passerbys walk with their Stoutlands and some ladies with prams huddle together in one corner under a lamppost whilst a poor boy up ahead is being dragged all over the place by his energetic Boltund as it dives headfirst into a group of Pidoves.

As you talk, Volkner is listening though his expression remains impassive and generally hard to read. You cannot help but think he is perhaps bored until he sees an old gentleman sitting on a bench playing an accordion.

A Mr Rime tap-dances with its cane in tune to the music whilst some people strolling by flip pennies into a hat on the ground near its feet.

A short distance away, a group of buskers stand inside a gazebo decorated with white and pink flowers, singing an old song with their instruments. Volkner observes before he heads towards the direction of the crowd.

“Wait up,” you say as you hurry after him. He walks fast.

Once you’re at the gazebo, you both find a good spot to listen; he stands stiffly beside you with his arms crossed though there’s a small smirk gracing his face. You’re not alone; there are many people standing and listening with their children and pokemon. When they finish their piece, the crowd cheer and whilst some stay, the majority disperses.

“You don’t see that often in Sinnoh.” Volkner mutters, before he tosses a coin for the buskers.

And the walk continues.

You inhale some crisp clear air and exhale contently. Wyndon is lively today and the weather is wonderful; the sky is blue and clear and the sunlight is warm but perfect, gently prickling on your skin. A flock of Wingull can be heard cawing as they soar through the air effortlessly on their elongated wings whilst a Pelipper or two eye a local fish and chip stall.

If only Leon was here, you think.

You pass an ice-cream stall which you ogle for longer than intended; you recall you haven’t had one for some time and suddenly Volkner says, “Would you like one?”

“...Sure.”

He asks you what flavour you want and when you tell him, he goes up and orders one for you but not for him. You offer to pay but he’s already handing over the amount. You thank him as the ice-cream is pressed into your hand, and he tells you to enjoy it but you feel strange.

If Leon was here, we’d both have one or we’d be sharing…

Your expression falls upon this thought.

Wyndon Stadium soon looms into view.

He hasn’t seen anything like it before and you allow Volkner a few moments to marvel the exterior during the daytime before heading inside.

You’re surrounded by images of Leon from all four corners whether it be from the electronic billboards, TV screens, posters and portraits, which makes your heart flutter and you spot the same kiosk you had purchased some Leon merchandise before except this time the line is even bigger and there’s a Leon body pillow on display as well as a life-sized Leon cardboard cut-out. Lots of girls are queuing up to take photos.

Jace is there in his Ball Guy persona, and you see his boss standing at the door so unfortunately he cannot talk to either of you but he does wave. You wave back and Volkner strolls up to the front desk where a Macro Cosmos employee greets him.

“Welcome to Wyndon Stadium! How may I help you?”

“I'm Volkner. I’m here to register for the exhibition match.”

“Oh! Mr Volkner, I should’ve known! Yes, of course. Wait right here, let me get the paperwork.”

Goddamnit, you really hate that word now. As you idle beside Volkner, you ask, “Who’s your opponent?”

“The Champion of Galar.”

You almost choke on your spit as you splutter out in disbelief, “Leon!?”

“Yeah,” Volkner replies, as the employee hands him a pen and the aforementioned papers which are collected inside a clear file which he proceeds to look over before he fills in the blanks.

The employee moves away to give him some space as he writes down his pokemon team and other useful information before he’s given a Dynamax band which he eyes a little warily.

“…..I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this but as a representative of Sinnoh, I’ll do my best," he murmurs.

“Of course.”

“Will you cheer for me?”

“HUH? Oh, uh…..um….but I don’t even have a ticket,” you babble out, but then you recall that Leon gave you a Wyndon stadium pass but before you can mention it, Volkner pulls out a flimsy sheet of paper from within the file and hands it to you.

“You do now.”

You gawk at the ticket that he’s presented. It’s a VIP ticket, reserved for the Sinnoh representative’s plus one. “Don’t waste it on me, Jace should get it-“

The employee returns and promptly talks over you. “Mr Volkner! The Champion is actually in the stadium and practising right now; I’m sure he’d love to meet you in person!”

"We've already met last night, but sure," Volkner nods in agreement and the employee lifts up the barricade, allowing entry. He passes and the Macro Cosmos guy looks at you with a brow raised. “She’s with me."

“Yes, of course, Mr Volkner. Do come in, both of you.”

You hope you don’t see Rose inside.

The Macro Cosmos employee guides you towards an elevator which takes you to a staff and contestants-only passageway that leads to a large corridor. Up ahead and you a see locker room. The corridor finishes with a large opening that reveals the spacious and grandiose pitch.

Volkner barely bats an eyelid to the ingenious architecture and once the employee guides you to the pitch, your breath closes up in your throat when you see Leon standing at one side of the gargantuan space, directing Charizard who is whirling around in the air, flapping his wings and zigzagging left to right.

The employee leads you over to the Champion who stops in mid-sentence and Charizard, with no further instructions, abruptly lands a short distance away.

Leon’s gaze lands on you and the surprise is evident on his handsome face; he prevents his jaw dropping in time and hastily glances between you and Volkner before ultimately tensing up on his spot. His fist clinches for a split second before relaxing, and he welcomes you both with a gentle smile.

“Hello Volkner.”

“Hi Leon.”

"It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise."

They shake hands as the employee leaves your group, slipping away quietly and unnoticed.

Meanwhile, Charizard appears elevated with your presence from out of the blue and bounds over, stomping on his bulky legs and huffing happily as he reaches your side and he begins to rub his snout all over the top of your head affectionately, messing up your hair.

“Hey Charizard,” you giggle with a huge smile on your face as you pet his leathery belly whilst Leon stares at you intently.

And then there’s Volkner and the Champion glances at the gym leader before his eyes flit back to you questioningly and it’s then you realise, oh crud I am with another guy what was I thinking? And Leon says, “Are you…?”

“She’s my tour guide,” Volkner replies, “You two know each other?”

It doesn’t sound like a question.

Leon nods. “We’re……...uh...” he struggles, “-friends.”

There is a brief silence.

Charizard does a double-huff, blinking wide-eyed and snorting in surprise at his best friend. Leon seems to have realised his mistake when he witnesses the happy expression on your face gradually dissolve and crumble.

“Ah, um….I mean, er…”

“Friends,” you say quickly, offering a thin and watery smile, “we’re just…friends. Um, I’ll wait for you at the elevator.”

“Sure,” says Volkner, before he adds, “We should go somewhere to eat after this.”

“Okay.”

Following your response, a look of devastation crosses Leon’s face but he is unable to say anything as you hastily make a beeline for the exit, nervously nibbling your bottom lip. Before you leave the pitch and head to the corridor however, a gorgeous young woman in a black dress and heels emerges from the elevator and breezes past you; it’s the beauty pageant winner from last night - Miss Hulbury, now affectionately crowned 'Miss Galar' by the public - and you watch as she rushes up to the pitch, stopping in front of Volkner and Leon.

You continue to observe as she greets them happily and they chat before her gaze lands on Leon and they are both smiling, laughing and chatting amicably together and you can only stare as they stand close and she keeps looking at him and suddenly your gut tightens up; you clench your fist before you turn round with a huff under your breath.

It's not like you to be jealous, but you can't seem to help it.

Beyond your control, you throw one final glance at the pitch where the Champion is; he’s talking to Miss Galar but then his gaze lands on you and you quickly look away and head for the lift.

Waiting for Volkner, you skulk around in the dark and shuffle your feet until he returns, which means Leon and Miss Galar are left alone together.

With no intent to pry into your relationship with Leon (which you are grateful for), you and Volkner make haste for the elevator but before either of you can take one step forwards, the sounds of rushing footsteps pervade the empty corridor and you both turn round to see Leon.

“Wait,” he calls your name as he stops shortly in front of you. He appears a little nervous as he adds, "can I talk to you, alone?"

Stunned, you nod mutely and he reaches for your hand, grasping it firmly with his and he leads you round an empty corner and away from Volkner.

You glance around awkwardly when he lets go of you, and he releases you rather hurriedly as though your hand was as hot as lava or whatnot, and you look up at him in confusion, your gazes meeting. He takes a step towards you and your back hits the wall as you automatically take a baby step back.

Leon's gaze is pinned on you, before he plants one hand by the side of your head and you quirk a brow at his action.

He's not caging you or anything, but he's still cut off one means of exit though you're not inclined to retreat in any way. His face is growing red as he scans you from head and toe, seemingly taken off guard by your appearance; you've put a strong effort into your looks and outfit today and it's rather obvious he's not used to seeing you during daylight hours and in nicer garb, and he clears his throat into his fist and nervously slides his gaze to the side.

"How's your head?" he asks firstly, and you unconsciously lift a hand and trace a finger over the healing wound on the side of your head.

"I'm alright."

"That's good," he says before he jumps right into it: "Are you really Volkner's tour guide?" he adds, a little sheepishly.

You nod. "He's Jace's friend. Jace asked me to meet him today, we were supposed to show Volkner around together but Jace got called into work at last minute so I'm helping out."

"Oh."

He sounds relieved and emits a sigh.

"For a moment, I really thought-" he pauses himself in time. "...Never mind. Forget it."

You resist the urge to grin because the thought of a potentially jealous Leon is rather entertaining and endearing.

"I'm sorry," he adds, flicking his honeyed eyes to you before he attempts to reach for your hand but somehow stops himself in time, choosing to curl his fist into a ball instead. "Please forgive me for what I said back there."

"Leon, it's fine," you reply, "I'm not angry. It'll take more than that to offend me."

But you think Charizard is, and you believe he could be thinking the same thing because he smiles awkwardly at you and rubs the back of his neck.

He's finally relaxing and proceeds to lower his glance to his feet but in fact, he's inching his hand closer to you as though he's hoping to hold it; you watch as he appears to mentally debate with himself before he eventually reaches for you and picks up your hand. You resist the urge to laugh out loud as Leon holds your hand gingerly before he shifts his gaze to you once more for your reaction although his gaze has become pinned onto your lips.

A reassuring smile is his answer which prompts him to grin and lean off the wall to slap his other hand over your entwined hands, casually bringing your hand against his chest. Your smile grows, cheeks growing pink and Leon's face grows ten shades redder, his pulse soaring.

He starts to lean in, your noses nudging together which makes you smile as you contemplate that Leon is attempting to kiss you yet the warmth of his lips continue to elude you as he tries to angle his face to the side in an effort to meet your lips better. The sounds of his thudding heart can be heard but what you really want right now is to feel the strong press of his mouth against yours yet he grows still.

And he doesn't move.

You say, a little expectantly, "Leon?"

"Y-yes?"

"What's the matter?"

"...Um..."

"Don't you want to k-"

Unfortunately you don't get the chance to finish because a tannoy goes off, announcing that Rose is looking for Leon and needs him to return to the pitch.

And so you sigh. He does not fail to notice your look of disappointment and he too, mirrors your expression.

"I should go," you say. Besides, this is probably not the best place to be smooching. Maybe he's thought of the same thing too and that's why he stopped.

"...Alright," he sounds reluctant and disappointed.

To your utmost astonishment, Leon does not release you just yet and instead, gives your fingers a light squeeze and leans over, his warm lips gently brush the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Meet me at Wyndon Central Gardens, near the riverbank. I finish at seven.”

Then he lets go of you and sprints away.

It happened very quickly and quietly.

Your heart beats frantically but you manage to waddle back to the foyer where Volkner is. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

“No problem. Shall we go?” Volkner asks and you nod limply.

“Y-yeah, let’s go,” is your shaky response.

The employee is waiting for you; he takes you to the main lobby and to the counter where you are let through and you’re back in the eye of the public.

However, a pair of kids rushing with lemonades and soda pops in hands bumps into you from seemingly nowhere and their cold beverages spills all over your front from the impact.

“Sorry!” the kids exclaim as you stand limply, the front of your outfit completely soaked.

“Are you alright?” Volkner asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I-I’m fine, it’s-“

The temperature drops. Your heartbeat spikes, your pulse begins to race. A bead of cold sweat drips down your forehead and you look up, startled.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice grows distant as he speaks, fading into a quiet echo in the background as you blink numbly.

The lobby is packed with people, yet you can sense a bizarre presence nearby….a presence that does not belong there.

Eyes narrowing, you filter through the traffic, sifting through the crowds and crowds of bustling, bumbling people until a young girl with pink hair perusing a random kiosk with a Sylveon grabs your attention.

Behind her, a dark figure skulks.

This unsightly individual hovers uncomfortably close to the oblivious girl with her head lazily bent to the right although the more you look, the more you realise her neck is in fact, broken. The spirit is donned in torn clothing and drenched in blood, with deep and long gashes that strains the fabric. The face cannot be seen, covered by long and matted hair that reaches her elbows, with a floral hairclip clinging lifelessly to a thin group of strands.

It’s her.

She doesn’t belong here.

Ezra was right.

You can now see them in broad daylight.

Aware you are looking at her, the ghostly figure twitches and slowly lifts her head up and it’s then you see the extent of her injuries. You have never seen such an atrocity before; she has been bludgeoned beyond recognition. Her eyes are watery and pained gaze meets yours and her bluish lips curl into a smile for a moment, before she vanishes.

…

#leon #dande #leon x reader #leon x you #reader #reader insert #archive of our own #jeralee #fanfic #fic #pkmn #pokemon #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon sword and shield #Comfort in Despair

10 notes · View notes

ancientechos · 4 years

Photo

Summer Days

For @windup-dragoon, based on a bunch of random discord convos!

Hien/Kirishimi + Emet-Selch/Arianna ♡ 2192 words ♡ some kinda modern au

The scent of the sea is fresh and crisp, circling in Hien’s lungs as he takes in a deep breath. It’s warm, and sunny, and vibrant: a perfect day to visit the beach. Perhaps take to the surf, enjoy the waves...

Unfortunately (or not?), two of his trio of companions have a quite different idea of what “fun at the beach” looks like.

“C’mon, Hien! The day’s not gettin’ any younger!” Kiri waves a hand in front of his face impatiently, shouldering her bright yellow surfboard and gesturing toward the sea. “We’re gonna surf, yeah?” She follows his gaze toward the small construction of umbrellas and towels they’d left and gives a small laugh. “Just leave ‘em, they said they’re fine.”

Emet, lounging on his towel, notices them staring, and gives a hand movement he’d like to assume is a wave but is really more likely to be a shooing motion. The smaller figure a little ways away from him, meanwhile, has most of her face obscured by the hat upon her head and the book held up to her nose.

“Besides, Emet’ll probably break his bones if he tries goin’ surfing.”

Hien can’t help but snort at the woman’s exaggeration.

“And Ari, well -- she’s not really too fond of this sorta stuff.”

It still feels a little off to simply leave their companions -- though really he wouldn’t mind Emet not being here at all, he feels just a smidge bad for Arianna. Whilst he cannot pretend to know the quiet, dark-haired woman very well, he at the very least knows of her through Kirishimi, and at best doesn’t want to seem rude...

But Kiri does know her, so he supposes he should take his chances and simply relax. They had all come here to have fun, after all. Even if their definition of such was not exactly the same.

That was still fine.

Exhaling softly, Hien drums his fingers along his own surfboard, a bright lime green colour.

“You’re right! Let’s enjoy ourselves -- ” No sooner has he finished speaking than Kirishimi has already launched herself across the sand, giving a loud cheer of victory.

“Well? What are ya waitin’ for, slowpoke?!” She turns to regard him, one hand on her hip, pale hair framed by the sun. But what does Hien Rijin in is the enormous, joyful grin that spreads across her face.

Rivalling even the gleaming star behind her, the happiness is enough to spear him straight through the heart. He remembers precisely why he’s fallen for her.

He has just never seen anyone more beautiful and genuine in his life.

“Sorry, sorry.” He lifts a hand in mock surrender. “I won’t keep you waiting.”

The sand grows damp beneath his feet, gets between his toes and he merely kicks them beneath the gentle laps of water. His girlfriend is already nearly knee-deep in salt and fighting to get ever further past the waves, to finally use her board.

“I bet I’ll catch a bigger wave than you,” the woman taunts with a sharp quirk of her lips, glancing back at him over her shoulder with one blue eye. Her black two-piece is already soaked by the water, some droplets courtesy of the children playing in the shallower waters.

“We’ll see about that,” Hien replies, with a tiny smirk of his own. If there’s anything his love can bring about him, it’s his competitive flair.

It doesn’t take them long to find a decent wave; the water here is good for surf, the wind bustling their hair and Hien’s swim shorts as they struggle to find their balance. A swell of water takes Kirishimi away from him -- brings her back just as quickly as he surfaces at the top of the wave and he sees her, arms outstretched, braid streaming out behind her.

He can’t see her face from this angle, but he’s certain that if he could, he’d see that bright, free smile again. Sure enough, she gives a delighted whoop as another wave curls above her, and she tumbles below the surf.

Hien can still hear her laughing and chuckling, but his stomach drops out from underneath him anyway as he sails downward, thoroughly soaked now as he falls into the water. He surfaces with a gasp, grasping for his board before it can bob away from him entirely.

“Wasn’t that fun?!” Kirishimi yells at him excitedly a few feet away. Her laughter fills the air as another wave picks her up, sways her. “Let’s do that again!”

By the time they return to the beach, they’re thoroughly soaked. Hien’s hair is nearly coming undone from its ponytail, and Kiri has long ago lost her braid to the depths.

Emet and Arianna have for the most part not moved, the woman still curled up in her pale sundress. Through the shadows, it’s clear she’s wearing a swimsuit beneath, though she seems to have no inclination to actually put it to use. And the other, well...

He’s not entirely sure, but Hien thinks Emet’s eyes are closed beneath those dark sunglasses he’s wearing.

Kirishimi makes her way onto the towel nearest Emet, sighing loudly. They’ve both propped up their boards nearby to allow them to dry in the sun, doubting they’ll return to the sea for today.

“Man, that was tirin’,” Kiri proclaims, bunching up her hair. “We’re all soaked.” With this she squeezes -- allowing a series of water droplets to spray upon Emet as he reclines beneath the shade.

With a jerk and a stifled sound of annoyance, he pushes his sunglasses off; though Hien can cover his mouth with his hand as he turns away, he can’t quite stop his shoulders from shaking in mirth. Arianna shuts her book silently and eyes them both from beneath her hat somewhat warily; once it becomes clear neither Hien nor Kiri have any intention of spraying her, she relaxes somewhat.

“Couldn’t you have picked somewhere with less noisy brats running amok?” the older man hisses, narrowing golden eyes at Kirishimi in a way that implies he’s not simply talking about the little urchins clambering about the sand.

“Ahahah, sorry.” Not really. If anything, Hien finds seeing his former rival irritated like this amusing. “This just seemed the closest to all our residences...”

Not telling him that he and Kiri are actually, currently, “renting” one of the beach houses here.

…Which is actually owned by the Rijin family, though Kirishimi doesn’t know this, either. It’s fine for her to think it’s just temporary. For now.

Mentally patting himself on the back for being able to keep his composure, Hien finally turns back to his companions.

“Besides, we came here for a bit of fun, right? Stretch our legs a little, maybe let’s walk around -- I hear there’s a sand castle competition further up the beach. It might be nice to take a peek.”

Thus that’s how the four of them end up shuffling down the shoreline, toward the mass of sand and small crowd of people they can see milling about. The sun beating down on their sculptures allows them to harden and set, preserving them for at least until the moment they’re destroyed.

Most of them are quite impressive -- not all of them are grand castles and mansions. Some are cats, dogs, sphinxes, even dragons. It’s hard to believe they could simply be made of sand...

Beside the rows upon rows of majestic and interesting sculptures they’ve just walked through are a few children making their own play at sandcastles, though for the most part they amount to merely mounds of dirt.

“I bet ya couldn’t make anythin’ better than that, Mr. Architect.”

One of Emet’s brows twitches as he pauses mid-step to glare down at the highlander.

“Excuse me...?” His gaze flicks from the cheeky-looking woman to the sorry pile of sand currently being kicked about by a gleeful young boy.

“Ya heard me! I bet ya can’t make anything as cool as what we just saw,”

Privately, she mumbles under her breath that it hadn’t even really looked like sand anyway. Far too realistic...

The man scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“And why on earth do you think I care what you think?”

Once it becomes clear her attempt at challenging him isn’t working, the woman kicks it up a notch.

“Whoever builds a worse one’s gotta pay the tab at dinner later -- how about that?”

The expression on Emet’s face transforms from derision to vague amusement; he gives a shrug and filches a bucket and small plastic tools from one of the pairs of children puttering in the sand.

What seems like hours later to Hien but realistically can’t be, and his rival has already amassed a miniature crowd of his own, much to the discomfort of his date. Whilst Kirishimi and his sculpture is -- reminiscent of a castle, certainly, with no shortcuts taken for details...it’s lopsided and amateur, whereas Emet’s is most certainly...not.

The proudly tall, spiralling castle, decorated with small stones and other gathered trinkets, could well rival one of those built in the competition. Hien can hardly believe the thing the older man’s managed to create in such a span of time. Were it not made of sand, he’s sure it would gleam beneath the sun.

“Well,” Hien says with a nervous laugh as they push through the small row of onlookers, “I do believe you’ve lost your bet, Kiri.”

“Why didn’t ya tell me yer some kinda sand castle champion, Emet?! That’s cheatin’!”

“Mmm? Oh, I’m nothing of the sort.” The man’s tone simply drips with arrogance as he discards his final tool into the sand. “I’ve never built one before, and that was easy.” His smirk doesn’t fade as he grasps Arianna by one of her thin wrists, pulling her closer to him and out of the crowd. Hien pretends not to see the way his normally blade-sharp gaze softens as he presses a hand to her dark hair.

________

They’d all gotten time to change and get ready before heading out to the fancy restaurant. Halfway there, Hien can see Kirishimi beginning to brood about her supposed having to pick up the tab, and tries to reassure her.

“Listen, how about I pay instead? Anyway, it’ll be fine.”

“Huh? You pay? Nah -- it was my bet, Hien. And anyway, I’m not worried.”

Certainly not, that’s why the sun has left her gaze.

They all meet in the parking lot, Emet looking utterly bored whilst Arianna holds her cellphone in her hand. While she still doesn’t speak around him, Hien would at least like to think she seems a little less nervous in his presence than before.

Before they can set foot into the restaurant, Emet abruptly raises both arms, coming to a halt approximately a foot from the doors. The others stop in confusion.

“Do wait a moment.” The smirk is, once again, disturbingly palpable in his tone even without looking at his face. “I need to open the door.”

Comprehension seems to dawn on Arianna, as she rapidly begins to tap at her phone screen; if Hien strains his ears, he thinks he can hear Emet’s phone vibrating in his pocket, though the other man seems to have zero inclination in looking at it. In a last ditch effort to wheedle the man’s attention, Arianna grabs at the sleeves of his coat --

“Open sesame.”

-- just as he says this and takes a step forward.

The automatic doors, of course, open. He gives a ridiculous half-bow that has Arianna, for once, reeling away from him even after he attempts to coax her back. She merely gives a stiff shake of the head, hiding her expression.

“Yeah? Of course it opened?” Kirishimi says aloud, seeming irritated herself.

“You’re very welcome.”

Though he doesn’t bother to explain, Hien has the suspicion that display had not really been for them.

Things are mostly quiet once they find their reserved seating, thumbing through overpriced menus. Hien can feel Kiri deflate slightly beside him, doing mental mathematics or perhaps concerned about her dress in comparison to the other patrons.

But the food is delicious; not even Emet’s subtle attempts to antagonise him can possibly ruin Hien’s mood. He can only be thankful that Kirishimi doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied by her meal. He even manages to trade numbers with Arianna, letting her speak to him as opposed to through Emet or Kiri.

And when the check arrives, Emet swipes it with an annoyed exhale before either he or Kirishimi can move.

“Perhaps next time, eh? I did choose the restaurant this time, after all...”

Hien isn’t sure there will be a next time, but nods graciously regardless. Despite his presence, after all, he did quite enjoy his day with Kiri. And perhaps he even has a new place to take her, where they might enjoy dinner together, without his jabs.

16 notes · View notes

broth-y · 4 years

Text

Gundham Tanaka’s Perfect Plan

kazuichi souda/gundham tanaka

alternatively: How to Spend the Rest of Your Life With the Boy of Your Dreams.

a/n: this is for day seven of soudam week! i chose the wedding prompt and kinda messed with it. if you've been paying attention, i only participated in 4/7 days, but i had to prioritize quality over quantity. i procrastinated. i think the proposal itself is cliche, but it doesn't even bother me because i am happy with this piece. i really hope that you guys like it!!

AO3

“Kazuichi, have you fallen asleep yet?” Gundham’s words were quiet, as to not wake the boy in his arms if he had fallen asleep. Their bodies pressed together tightly.

“Not yet, why?” Souda murmured.

“I believe that an outing is long past due.”

“Huh?” He questioned, too tired to translate his boyfriend's words.

“I would like to go out to dinner with you soon.” Gundham had carefully calculated a plan, it was simply a matter of convincing Souda to join him.

Kazuichi hummed, “we always get food on Fridays.”

Gundham’s hand found its way into his partner's hair. He twirled his fingers through it slowly. “I wish for something with more grandeur. Perhaps we could go somewhere lavish next Friday.”

“Fancy dinner on Friday? Sure, whatever ya want, we can dress up n’ everything.” He answered drowsily, laughing slightly.

“I would be greatly satisfied.” His plan was going exactly as he intended. Souda even added the idea to put on their best clothes, saving Gundham from having to persuade him.

“If we’re going somewhere fancy, you’re paying.”

“I would insist, my love.” Kazuichi yawned, “then it’s a date.” he was sluggish and Gundham knew it would be only mere moments before he fell asleep.

“Perfect.” Tanaka intertwined their fingers together with his unoccupied hand. His request had gone ideally, everything he needed was ready. However, he was terrified.

The box resting in the pocket of Gundham's slacks seemed to weigh him down as if it were a brick instead. He stared at himself in the mirror. He knew that he would struggle to hide his uneasiness throughout the night. Glancing at the clock, he realized their time to ready was running thin. “Souda, make haste. The reservation is in less than an hour.” He yelled to the boy in their adjacent bedroom.

“I’m tryin’. Can you come tie my tie babe?” Kazuichi asked.

“Yes, of course.” He walked into their bedroom, seeing Kazuichi with his shirt unbuttoned and tie thrown haphazardly around his neck. “You look dashing.” He smiled as he approached him.

“You too, but you might need a shirt to go out.” Souda laughed. His calloused hands wrapped around the bare torso of the taller.

Gundham nodded, carefully fixing Kazuichi’s collar. “I will dress soon.” He answered and decided not to mention the shameful amount of time he spent rethinking his arrangements while Souda was in the shower; time he could have used to get ready.

“Why did you wanna go out anyway?”

He finished tying his partners vividly green tie. “Need I a reason? I wish to do something different, and I am honestly tired of pizza delivery.”

"Pizza delivery is good." Kazuichi responded, sticking his long tongue out towards the other man. "Your standards are just higher than mine."

"Touche." Gundham smirked as he walked to the closet. He removed his shirt, which he had ironed meticulously for the event, putting it on and buttoning it. As he reached for his own tie, he noticed Kazuichi, kneeling at the other side of the closet, and removing a pair of shoes. "Are those the shoes you will be wearing tonight?"

"Yeah, don't 'cha like 'em?" He asked, a pair of abrasively green shoes in hand. Kazuichi beamed, "They match my tie!"

"That is certainly a unique choice, my dear." Gundham chuckled as he adjusted his shirt.

The pair finished dressing, Gundham adding a vest and Kazuichi, a blazer. He was left with one final request. Before they headed out, on foot, Gundham turned to his boyfriend. "Would you like to get ice cream after dinner? Our usual spot is close to where I made our reservations. Perhaps we could go to the park, as normal?"

"The park where you took me on our first date, for sure babe. You know how much I love ice cream." He answered, seemingly pleased.

All was set in motion. It was simply time for Gundham to go through with it.

“The waitress said my shoes and tie were cool, she totally liked them! I knew that somebody would.” Kazuichi grinned and licked happily at his chocolate ice cream, coated in sprinkles. They were walking, free hands intertwined, through the twilit park.

Gundham laughed, “You seem to be implying that I do not.”

“You insulted them at home, Gundy.” He joked.

Tanaka scoffed in response, “I said they were unique, which was not an insult. I love your eccentric accessories.”

“Well, thank you.” Kazuichi stood on his toes to place a quick kiss on his partner’s face.

“You are very welcome.” Gundham noted the quick darkening of the sky as the sun set. He finished his dessert and knew his partner would soon follow suit. The persistent butterflies in his stomach began thrashing once again and he prerpared himself for what was to come.

"Do you wanna sit down for a few minutes, then probably head home?" Souda asked, nodding to a bench just meters up the path.

"I can agree to that." He nodded. Kazuichi demolished the remains of his ice cream, as they walked. He threw a napkin in a nearby garbage can upon their arrival.

They lowered onto the bench together, Kazuichi finding a comfortable place, snuggled under Gundham's arm. Silence fell over the pair. Curious fingers ran across Gundham's thigh, fingertips rubbing small circles. Kazuichi was typically one to busy his hands with something.

Gundham worried that his partner, pressed close to his chest, would hear his rapidly increasing heartbeat. He was about to ask a question that would change the course of his life, hopefully for the better. The thought terrified him, more than anything had before. The worst that could happen, would be Kazuichi denying him, it certainly wasn't welcoming for that to be a possibility.

They sat for a few minutes longer, words still yet to be exchanged. The nervousness occupied Gundham's mind far too much for conversation. The common comfort from close contact with his boyfriend, was not present in the moment. just sweaty palms and shaky breaths. Souda sat undisturbed, regardless. Gundham wondered how he had stayed quiet for so long; it was atypical of him not to make any comments.

The uncharacteristic behaviour was soon explained when he felt the smaller boy jerk upwards against his chest.

"Hnhm. I guess I started to fall asleep there." Kazuichi attempted a short laugh, and moved so he could sit up straight. He planted a kiss on his partner's cheek, before asking, "do you think we could go home soon Gundy? I love being here with you, but I'd rather fall asleep in our bed together, not a park bench."

Tanaka forced himself to grin smugly in response, "of course we can." He answered, knowing that marked his time to begin.

Kazuichi rose from the bench, stretching where he stood. After a final deep breath, Gundham lifted himself off the seat and reached his arm out to his partner, who had just turned away. “Before we leave, I have a gift for you.” He blurted.

“A gift?” Kazuichi questioned, turning to look at the other with his eyebrows raised, “What for?”

Gundham didn’t answer, just shuffled in his pocket to retrieve the small box that had burnt a hole there throughout the night. Holding it concealed in one hand, he took his partner's hand with the other. “Kazuichi, I mean not to be cliche, but the years we have spent together have been my favourite of them all. My love spans wider than what is comprehensible to most. I am a man of many words, so let me make this brief.” He smiled smugly as he detached their hands to present the simple ring to Kazuichi.

“I must know, will you marry me?”

Bright tears quickly welled in Souda’s eyes as he realized what was happening. Gundham felt the weight of the other boy press against him as he collapsed into him, his hands grabbing desperately at the back of Gundham’s jacket.

Gundham moved his arms that had been awkwardly sandwiched between them, stuffing the ring box back in his pocket, as he wrapped his arms around his partner. He interrupted the unintelligible sobs coming from beneath him, “There is no need to cry, my love.”

“Of course I’m gonna cry!” Kazuichi sniffled as he lifted his head to meet the other’s eyes. “You just — you just asked me to marry you!”

Gundham placed the shorter boy’s face in the strong grip of both hands. He ran his thumbs gently under Kazuichi’s eyes, wiping away his tears. “Yes, I did. And you still have yet to answer.”

“Of course I’ll fuckin' marry you, get down here." He said, still weak and sobby. He pulled on Gundham's collar, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss.

Months of well suppressed anxiety flowed from Gundham's mind as they met. He relaxed his tensed muscles and held his lover tighter than ever before. They kissed, and he relaxed, knowing that he had won the only person worthy of spending his life with.

Tanaka disconnected their lips to speak, touching their foreheads together instead, "Lest I forget, you have not received your ring." He once again removed the ring from his pocket and presented it to Kazuichi. "I hope you are pleased with it."

The box displayed a wide silver band with a rectangular stone inset in the center. Kazuichi gushed, "How couldn't I be? I love it. I'll have to try not to lose it, between the shop and everywhere else."

He removed the ring from the box, finally and carefully sliding onto the other's finger. A long awaited task indeed. "I request that you keep it in your sights, at least until the wedding."

"Wedding — the wedding!" He beamed, detaching their foreheads as he jumped back, ever so slightly. "We're getting married, Gundham! It didn't even sound real, until you said it."

Gundham couldn't suppress the smile rising in his face from his partner's reaction, "I understand how you feel. It is quite foriegn."

“You — the guy who was Mr. Overlord, incapable of mortal emotions — you asked me to marry you! We’re gonna get married!” Kazuichi grinned. Gundham wondered if it was possible for a person to smile any wider.

“We are.”

“I can’t believe it. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kazuichi.” He replied, pulling him close for yet another kiss, entirely unable to believe it either.

#soudam week #soudam week 2020 #wedding #except it is a proposal #soudam #kazuichi souda #gundham tanaka #i hope this is good #im actually proud of it so i hope it doesnt bomb #hope yall like it but its 1am gn guys

53 notes · View notes

kbstories · 4 years

Text

Axiomatic

ax·i·om·at·ic (adj.)

Self-evident; unquestionable.

The best part of battle is the afterparty.

(Or: Remember that banquet Luffy promised? This is it.)

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Partying

Set in Wano. Spoilers for all of Wano. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

“What do you think?”

Lipstick glides over thin lips, the wax malleable and smooth as it leaves a coat of rusty red in its wake. Killer makes sure it’s perfectly even before he glances elsewhere. In the mirror, Kidd’s face is all scowled impatience.

One last run-down – eyeliner, mascara, lipstick: done, done and done – then Killer grabs the mask waiting for him. “Alright, let me see.”

Their eyes meet and Killer sighs. Metal over skin-and-bone, Kidd’s arms are crossed; his shaved brows push together further. As if Killer doesn’t indulge his every whim by the regular.

“I’m looking. Show me again.”

Kidd grumbles, “Watch.” He opens his arms, reveals an unbuttoned shirt tucked into his favorite patterned pants, glinting gold over black under a double-belted cinch at the waist. So far, so very Kidd.

No, the point of discussion is the frankly massive coat slung across his neck: Nice soft-looking suede on the outside and glossy-grey fur on the inside, it hugs Kidd’s shoulders in all the right places to then cascade down his back in a display of near-ridiculous opulence.

Extravagant, over-the-top, flashy. It’s hard to tell which type of animal had to die for this. There must be a lot less of ‘em now, with this monstrosity in the world.

Kidd is swiveling it back and forth with critical glances to the mirror, the coat wooshing with the motions. Killer takes in the fluid glide of fur over Kidd’s exposed chest, the contrast of impeccable couture against jagged scars. Loses himself for a moment or two imagining how it would feel like to run his hands over both.

An appreciative hum. In Killer’s educated opinion, Kidd looks damn near sinful.

“Yeah?”, Kidd asks and Killer nods. “Yeah. Heh, told ya the detour’s worth it.”

Perhaps it was, although sifting through Onigashima’s treasury whilst bleeding all over heaps of shiny expensive everything might’ve been a case of skewed priorities. There’s no need to talk about what-could-have-beens, though – they’re here, they’re rich and they’re long overdue at Strawhat’s banquet.

Killer’s practically done, tight jeans under a shirt that’s done up to the third button and left to flare open otherwise. It’s not his old favorite (that one stopped fitting him a good year ago) but similar enough, patterned in geometric black-and-white shapes. Definitely one of his fancier ones, not that anyone will care one way or the other where they’re going.

It’s… been a while since it’s been anyone other than them and their crew. Pirates are pirates, allied or no; Killer eyes the scythes neatly stored next to the bed.

Kidd is touching up his lips one last time, the same shade as Killer’s. “Bring ‘em. That Roronoa guy keeps throwing you weird looks and I’m not allowed to kill him.”

Yet goes implied. Killer isn’t wearing his mask and so he doesn’t roll his eyes. “He’s got every reason to”, he reminds his captain, focusing on the heavy clasps of his weapons to keep the memories at bay. The red mark on his chest stings, stuck in the limbo between a healing wound and a fresh scar for a few days still.

A testament to his failure that Killer won’t hide. If Zoro hadn’t stopped him that day his hands would be stained with blood that cannot be washed off, not entirely.

Kidd’s eyes are on him, dark. “I don’t care.”

Resentful as always. Killer reaches for him, digs his fingers into the fluffy lining of that coat and oh, the fur is as soft as it looks. “I do, though.” A firm tug, one Kidd follows until Killer can kiss him, careful not to smudge anything.

“No killing of allies today, ‘kay? We just came back from a war. The crew’s tired. I’m tired.”

“Mh” is all Kidd has to say to that, a grumpy huff against Killer’s lips more than anything. Kidd does give him a proper kiss, however, and Killer knows he won this one.

All he can ask of Kidd is to try, anyways – with two equally hot-headed captains and a whole host of morons around to rile him up, there’s bound to be blood eventually. The trick is to make sure everyone’s drunk enough not to take it too personally.

A pinch to his ass tells Killer he was caught scheming. Kidd smirks, tells him, “We’re getting wasted tonight”, all triumphant like it’s the best idea he’s had all week, and Killer doesn’t miss the emphasis on we.

“Two Emperors down! Strawhat better bring the good stuff tonight or this alliance is over.”

Killer groans, “Kidd”, but he’s smiling, too. Before he can be called out on it, Killer shoves his mask into Kidd’s hands, metal clanking against metal. “Make yourself useful. We’re late.”

Kidd’s laugh is more of a cackle than anything else – “Yes, darling”, said in that sarcastic lilt Killer knows all too well – yet Kidd complies. His hands, organic or otherwise, handle the mask they’ve built with care and precision. Soon, Killer’s vision is narrowed down to dots, the audio filter of his helmet kicking in soon after.

Killer rolls his neck and hums, satisfied. “Ready?”

Kidd throws a final look at himself in the mirror, grinning into the collar of his new coat.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

The banquet is a sprawling, messy affair that swallows the entirety of the ramshackle village the Strawhats picked as their home in Wano Country.

From the moment the Kidd Pirates get there they are surrounded. Wherever Killer's eyes roam there are knots of people drinking, eating, laughing and crying, sometimes simultaneously – there, at the heart of it all where the crowd is thickest, burns the largest bonfire Killer has seen in a while, perhaps ever. Smiling faces all around and for once, it doesn’t make Killer’s stomach drop because they’re genuine.

Survivors of SMILE just like him, caught in the rush of real emotions for the first time in who knows how long. Killer has a pretty good idea how that feels like.

Next to him, Kidd is so tense he’s stalking, gaze intense, oozing Haki to keep people away; Wire’s hand is clenched to bloodlessness around his trident while Heat exhales a bit of smoke with every breath and yeah, Killer gets it. Can’t help it himself, either, scythes kept close to his sides to make sure they’re there.

The thing is: They don’t do these kinds of things. Parties, yes, many and often but not like this. Killer can count on one hand the amounts of times the population of any island was actually happy to see them, much less willing to send them off with one big feast.

Actually, he wouldn’t need to count at all because it’s simply never happened. Even filtered by his mask it’s… a lot to take in at once.

The entire damn country is here, it seems, all breathing a collective sigh of relief so monumental the air itself carries their joy. For all that the Kidd Pirates were in this for revenge and glory, Killer can’t deny it’s rewarding to see a nation so ravaged by an Emperor’s greed do whatever they want for the first time in decades.

Finally, a few familiar faces start popping up. Some of the samurai greet them with nods of their heads, overly formal like the people from Wano tend to be; here and there they spot the distinctly branded yukata the members of Trafalgar’s crew are wearing and, rarer but all the more noticeable, those animal people Strawhat dragged along from somewhere.

Minks? Or something? Killer is inclined to say it doesn’t matter if they didn’t have the habit to jump on them out of fucking nowhere. Looking for bone-crushing hugs and wet-nosed kisses, of all things, and– Oh no, he did not sign up for this.

Much less for whatever that group of cat minks are gearing up to, staring at the holes in his mask with eyes nearly swallowed by black, round pupils. Killer is absolutely, solidly convinced he doesn’t even want to know what that’s all about.

“Captain.”

And yeah, his tone is a little more alarmed than he truly means it to be. It gets Kidd’s attention, though – himself having fought off a dog mink enamored with his metal arm not too long ago – and he barks a laugh even when he ramps up his presence to an almost stifling degree.

“C’mon, I feel Strawhat up ahead.”

To nobody’s surprise, they find him smack dab in the middle of everything. Strawhat and his crew are lounging around the bonfire, there’s no other way to describe it: All broad smiles and flushed faces amidst the chaos, completely in their element, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the closeness to the bonfire or the vaguely impressive amounts of empty bottles lying around already. They’re certainly boisterous enough for it to be the latter, even Jinbei.

And no, Killer hasn’t quite processed that turn of events yet. The strangeness of seeing someone of that caliber wheeze into his mug with laughter as his (new?) captain takes a disturbingly big bite out of an even bigger chunk of meat is… not helping things, in that regard.

What a bunch of weirdos. In the safety of his mask, Killer allows himself a small smile.

From here the flames seem to reach for the sky, tinged in warm pinks and oranges by the sinking sun and there, very faintly, Killer can make out the first stars. He can’t remember ever seeing them, not with the factories running over night as well.

“Spikey!!”

Ah. Killer’s head turns with Kidd’s and it’s a good thing, too, because there’s a stretched arm coming for his captain – Kidd bites out, “Nope, no, Strawhat”, red eyes going wide – and Killer manages to side-step it in the last possible second. One, twice it wraps around Kidd, fancy coat and all, and then the rubber recoils.

“Killer!”

Oh my, Killer thinks mildly as he watches him go. Behind him, half their crew is flabbergasted and the other half is in stitches. “Captain’s gonna be in such a mood”, Heat says to Wire, and it just sends them into another fit of chuckles.

For Killer, finding a drink becomes his top priority. So much for keeping things peaceful.

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #kidkiller #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #this is a setup for smut in chapter 2 ngl #(i just got carried away as per usual)#this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff #one piece spoilers

38 notes · View notes