#also funny note: this reply was supposed to end after I shout ‘they would be so horrible lmao’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonowarii · 1 year

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Young and Dumb, with a Broken Arm

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN! Human! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: A tale of you and Lo'ak's shenanigans, but this time, it ended up with you supporting a broken arm.

Word count: 2.0k

Warning/s: graphic description of injury, slight angst bc bro its lo'ak, swearing, hurt/comfort, but fluff towards the end!

Note: I truly believe this was supposed to be just a funny little one shot but I spilled a little bit of angst onto this one 😶

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

"I bet you can't climb a tree faster than me."

"I bet you can't jump down from this branch on your feet."

"I bet you—"

It has always been a game of bets and pranks between you and Lo’ak growing up.

You two were considered partners in crime, not seeing the otber without one following close by.

You two were always up to shenanigans that ended up Jake scolding Lo’ak around two to three times a week.

Lo’ak would get scolded on about bringing you in to his reckless ideas, putting you in danger, while you watched to the side as Lo’ak suffered Jake’s wrath.

You didn’t have anyone to scold you, technically, your adopted parents were back in the lab and they often had little to none news of what you were doing out and about with the Sully family.

Yet there was no stopping the two of you.

You had also grown to play pranks on each other, one time you had Lo’ak’s bow super glued to its place that when he went to grab it, and when it wasn’t budging, he pulled on it with all his force that he fell straight onto his ass. After that scenario leaving his butt sore, he could hear you laughing from the outside.

He retaliated by hiding your quiver of your own handmade arrows.

It took you a whole week of pestering Lo’ak and when he finally had enough, he retrieved them from behind his bed. Which earned him a smack on the (lower) back from you.

Now at present day, you were bound to doing something stupid again.

“Look, trust me, mom taught dad this one.”

Lo’ak says, looking out off the edge of the cliff towards the huge green leaves that sprung from the huge trees on opposite sides.

“Yeah, that looks like a quick death to me.” You reply, stepping to look out of the edge yourself.

Lo’ak huffs, placing his bow behind him. He looked like he was getting ready to jump.

“When have my calculations ever been wrong?” Lo’ak looks down to ask you, a smirk forming on his face.

“Well…” You say in thought, looking up.

“Shut up, that was one time.” He spoke.

You laughed.

“Come on, are you really living if you’re not trying this out? Or are you just being a wuss?” Lo’ak teased. He surely knows how to get on your nerves.

“Oh, you’re on, forest boy.” You accept.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lo’ak cheered. He then gets himself ready, adjusting his bow behind him and backing away to gain momentum.

“But if you die, I’m taking your toruk stuff toy.” You say to him.

“Pfft, watch me, human.” He rolls his eyes at you. Then he breathes out before running and jumping of the edge, his body now facing the ground as he fell.

You ran over to the edge and watched, watching how Lo’ak gracefully switched between leaf to leaf, slowing down his fall as he successfully plops to the ground on his feet.

You knit your brows as Lo’ak yelped, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him.

To be honest, you hadn’t done this before.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” Lo’ak shouts at you from below. “Just like what I did!”

Oh, the things you’d do for this boy.

You didn’t have your bow with you today, so you just braced yourself, backing up the same as Lo’ak did.

Eywa, if I fall to my death, please reincarnate me into anything that can haunt Lo’ak for the rest of his life

You prayed with a slight chuckle.

Or even reincarnate me into an avatar, that sounds cool.

“(Y/N)! Did you finally back out?” Lo’ak’s voice stopped your thoughts.

“Like hell I did!” You shout back at him.

Breathing out, you ran with all your might and jumped.

You did what you saw, and at first, you were successful after a few leaves.

But then everything went downhill on the bottom half.

You concentrated on moving your body from side to side that you had failed to notice a looped vine on one of the leaves, that when you landed on it, your feet had fit the exact loop.

Your foot got stuck, making you lose your progress as you panicked, failing to reach the opposite leaf, making you almost hover a few feet up from the ground.

And that’s when the vine snapped.

Your eyes widened, thinking first to prevent your mask from taking the fall as your body was quickly reaching the ground.

“Shit! (Y/N)!!” You hear Lo’ak scream as you flipped to your side, hoping the mask doesn’t break.

And you hit the ground hard. With a cracking sound.

“Fuck, fuck!” Lo’ak swore, running over to you, flipping you onto your back as you had your eyes closed.

Lo’ak, in a panic, lifted you into his arms, immediately going to check if there was any damage to your mask as his hands, almost two times bigger than the size of your face, traced over your mask.

It looks like there was no damage, but he could hear your faint breathing.

Then he takes a glance at your arm and it was almost the most terrifying thing he has ever seen.

And he was a hundred percent sure your arm, or even a regular na’vi’s arm, should not bend that way. “Shit.” He mutters, huge blue hand going over to lift your arm to find your forearm falling limp, almost like jelly.

Then you stirred, making Lo’ak’s eyes widened. “Can you hear me? (Y/N), (Y/N) look at me!” He says, shaking you.

The first thing you registered was Lo’ak who was hovering above you.

Then came the searing pain from your arm.

Lo’ak watched as you stared at him, then in seconds your face contorted into pain as you cried out loud.

Lo’ak felt a pang in his heart, making himself want to cry, almost feeling your pain, but he knows he can't afford to act this way.

“Hold on, (Y/N), alright? Stay with me.” Lo’ak says as he stands up, carrying you in his arms. You continued crying, making Lo’ak frown as he quickly found his way to an opening, calling out to his ikran.

Once it arrived, Lo’ak wasted no time making tsahelyu as he carried you in front of him.

“Go, go!” He screamed at his banshee, who scurried to take flight.

Lo’ak could still hear your cries as he bites his lip, not wanting to look down at your face because he knew it would only pain him more. His heart pounded in his chest; he wanted you to be okay.

Please be okay.

Reaching High Camp, Lo’ak carefully gets off his banshee and he once again carries your small body.

“Norm, Norm!” Lo’ak called once he finds the human figure of Norm talking to another scientist.

Norm turns, his face paling once he realized Lo’ak was carrying you, your bent arm in full view.

“Holy shit, come on, bring her in here!” Norm shouted, earning a few looks from the other villagers.

Norm opens up the door towards the shack, wasting no time to grab the necessary kits to use.

“Lay them down there!” Norm commanded. You had fallen unconscious again.

Lo’ak followed, not minding that he was running out of breath being in the shack as the oxygen was not capable with his body.

He places you down carefully, removing your mask so you could be seen clearly.

“(Y/N), c’mon wake up.” He whispers, seeing your tear stained cheeks makes him let out a shaky breath.

“Lo’ak, I’m sorry bud but you’re going to have to give us some space.” Norm said.

“But I’m—” Lo’ak gasps out, eyes scanning to find a mask made for the na’vi inside the shack. Once he had his hands on it, he breathes through his mask before placing it down.

“I’m not leaving.” Lo’ak said, stubborn as always.

Norm sighed but he let the boy stay. “Sure, kid, just keep out of the way, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, finding a spot for himself in the corner where he could see you being monitored by Norm, and then he was joined by Max.

He could hear them talking and scanning your vitals, but he only thing he focused on was the rise and fall of your own chest.

A few good ten minutes had passed when the door opened, and it was the last thing Lo’ak needed to see.

His dad.

“I heard what happened.” Jake entered, carefully going over to Norm and Max.

“They took quite the fall… but their vitals are stable now, except for their broken arm which I’ll estimate would heal about two weeks or so.” Max said.

Jake nods, looking at you on the table, brows knitted in worry.

Then his eyes cast over to the corner to find Lo’ak looking at you, wearing the same worried look.

Jake bites his lip, of course, how could he have not known?

He spares his son the lecturing this time, figuring that your health mattered the most to him.

But that wasn’t stopping him from comforting his son.

Jake carefully trudges over to where Lo’ak was.

“Hey, kid.” Jake said, kneeling down so they were almost face to face.

“Dad- dad I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Lo’ak begins explaining, his voice cracking in the process.

Jake lets Lo’ak lean his head on his shoulder as Jake sighed. “It was an accident, I know. They’ll be okay.”

“But dad- It was my fault—”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think they’ll blame you for it, kid, the two of you are quite the troublemakers.” Jake said, trying to ease his son.

Lo’ak then lifts his head, eyes darting towards your form, seeing your arm now had a bandage around it, a cast, he thinks its called.

Jake breathes in the oxygen from his own mask before patting Lo’ak on the back. “I don’t blame you and neither do they. Just make sure they’re okay, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, feeling an instant relief provided by you and his father. As Jake left, Lo’ak stands up, slowly making his way toward you.

“They’ll be alright, I think its best giving them a couple of hours to rest.” Norm says. “Thank you.” Lo’ak said.

Norm nods at him before walking out with Max to leave the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

Then as if on cue, you stirred again, your eyes shut as you tried to move.

Your eyes slowly blinked open. “Wha-“

“We’re back in High Camp,” Lo’ak quickly said, he then assists you in sitting up, then his hand delicately ghosts over your cast covered arm.

“I bought you here… Norm and Max helped fix you up but they said your arm would take about three weeks to heal.” Lo’ak said in a low voice.

You looked at him as he was looking at your arm. Then you glance back at him. “Well, that’s a bummer.”

Lo’ak was caught off guard by your reaction as he turned his head to face you.

“What?” You looked at him, only then you realized how big his face actually was compared to yours.

“I just broke your arm… that’s not “a bummer” that’s like… worse than bummer.” Lo’ak said.

You laugh. “Why? Did you personally come to me and broke my arm in half with your bare hands? No, no you didn’t. It’s not your fault. And have you forgotten? We grew up literally almost befriending death because of our stupid bets and pranks.”

Lo’ak finds himself smiling, remembering quite the few bets that almost had the same outcome as this. “I suppose so… whatever you say.”

“But you’re still a skxawng for not catching me back there.” Your voice turned serious and Lo’ak’s face looked like it was drained of its color.

You laugh out loud again, gaining the courage to lean yourself against him, feeling his bare skin on yours felt something to be remembered.

Lo’ak, upon the contact of your head on his chest, had his tail swaying behind him in content.

He sneakily wraps an arm around your smaller form, his hand resting beside your thigh.

“This time I’ll be sure to catch you.”

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iguana-braces · 2 years

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Enigmatic (Rooster x Reader) 18+

Gods forgive me as this is my first time writing narrative smut in…. a long time. -- Masterlist

Description: You and Roosters firsts; first meeting, first kiss/first time ;) (f!reader, porn with the barest hint of plot, the La Croix of plot)

Warnings: Explicit 18+ content, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), vaginal sex, mentions of alcohol, explicit language

Word Count: 2k

Note: Shout out to imaginesbyhaley and ceasersaladslut for informing me Rooster drives a Bronco!! Updated to reflect this crucial information.

MINORS DNI, 18+

Walking in like he owned the place, with a Hawaiian shirt, aviators, and that mustache… It might’ve been the fact that you were on your third vodka soda, but you just had to know who this joker was.

Sidling up to him as he ordered at the bar, you remarked, “Hey, I think the 80’s called, they want their aesthetic back.”

“Ha-ha, that's hilarious,” he replied with a wry laugh. “But it was funnier the first four hundred times I heard it.”

“Damn. Well, it certainly does work for you.” The 80’s had contributed a lot of positive things to society; great music, pretty good movies, neon. And while this specific look hadn’t previously been among that list for you, this random bar stranger was changing that. Perhaps it was because his thin, low-cut tank top did little to hide his surprisingly muscular and tanned chest.

The man turned towards you, looked you up and down, then smiled, apparently pleased with what he saw. “Is it working for you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your best friend, who’d been watching this interaction from down the bar, snort over their drink. You almost didn’t know what to say at this sudden change of direction. Well, maybe it wasn’t so sudden, you hadn’t been very discreet about ogling his pecs.

“I… decline to answer that.”

But it did work on you, well enough for you to allow him to drive you and your friend home after your night out. This random guy’s Jeep was far cheaper than an Uber, which negated the equal amount of risk of getting into a stranger's car.

After dropping your friend off first, he parked in front of your apartment. Pretending to fumble with your seat-belt, you waited for him to make the first move, but he remained quiet. Shit.

“By the way, the answer is yes,” you started.

“Hm?”

“You asked if this look was working for me. It is.”

He smiled and nodded. “...I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good rest of your night.”

You couldn’t hide the shock on your face. “That’s it?”

“Well, you gotta leave ‘em wanting more.” And by god, did you want more. But apparently he was set on being a gentleman, not one to give it up on the first night. “I'll see you around, hopefully.”

You did see him around, sporadically, and which was when you finally learned his name was Bradley Bradshaw. Brad².

“Yeah, my parents were real funny people,” he had noted in response to your snicker. That was another clue you picked up on, his use of past tense when referring to his parents, but you’d let that remain a story for another time. You also learned he was a fighter pilot with a penchant for impromptu karaoke and a voice like butter. All of this was adding up to paint a picture of a strange but insanely intriguing man.

You wanted to know everything about him, where he was coming from, where he was planning on going next. The two of you ended up spending many a night talking on the beach until the sun started to rise.

But the most recent thing you learned about him was revealed during a rousing rendition of Lady Gaga’s “You and I”. When he wasn’t looking at the piano keys, Brad was looking directly at you over the frame of his lowered aviators, like he was… singing to you? Was this song supposed to be about you and him? You had to look away, hiding your face in your hands as you blushed furiously.

After the way he shot you down on that first night, you’d come to accept that talking would be all the two of you would do. But apparently this had just been one hell of a slow burn. Two could play at that game.

After his performance, you slung your purse over your shoulder as he approached you at the bar.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“This early?”

“Yeah, I have to get up early tomorrow. Could I get a ride?”

“So… Lady Gaga,” you commented

“Hey, it’s a good bar song. People can clap along, sing along.”

“And that’s the only reason you chose it?”

“Well… it’s not the only reason.”

He didn’t elaborate further, only smiling. Trying to get a straight answer out of Bradley in regards to his feelings about anything was like pulling teeth. But at the same time, you weren’t about to spill your guts to him first. He hit on you first, then shot you down. Then he serenaded you and now… silence. When he pulled up in front of your apartment this time, your seatbelt gave you no trouble.

"Well, thanks for the ride." You didn’t wait for a response before you climbed out of the car.

“That’s it?” he called after you. You rolled your eyes, walking around to the driver’s side, leaning on his open window.

“I don’t know, is it? Are you ready for 'more', Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Well, then the night is still young.”

The second your apartment door closed, you walked him back towards the wall and kissed him. He tasted like beer and the mint gum he’d been chewing in the car. At least one of you had planned ahead for this. Was this his game all along, draw things out and then strike when you least expect it?

You couldn’t let your mind be clouded with thoughts like that as you slipped your hand under his shirt, running it over his skin to his muscular back.

Barely breaking the kiss, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, his sunglasses clattering to the floor somewhere.

"I gotta use the bathroom first."

"Good idea."

Quickly, you did your best five-minute shave job and freshened up. By the time you returned to the bedroom, Bradley was sprawled across your bed on his back, looking at the pictures and artwork on the walls. Trying your absolute hardest to look sexy, you crawled up between his legs, drawing his attention. As you unbuttoned his shorts, he lifted himself so you could remove them, along with his underwear. He wasn’t fully hard, probably because you spent a little too long in the bathroom, but you could tell this would be a satisfying night.

"Like what you see?"

"I'm just glad it's not a full-on 80's bush."

"You're welcome," he laughed.

Dicks had a very standard manual of operation. You suck the tip, lick it, stroke the shaft, don’t neglect the balls. The guy will usually say if they want it harder, slower, softer, faster. And of course, there’s one thing they all seem to love. Slowly, you worked down the length of his dick, taking as much of it into your mouth as possible, which was almost all of it. As your nose brushed against his pelvis, Bradley’s head fell back and he sighed into an, "Ohh, fuck."

Encouraged by his reaction, you pulled back for a quick breath, then quickly deepthroated him again, and again, eventually getting into a rhythm. His hand gently pressed against the back of your head as his breathing became deeper, deep "Mmh"s rumbling from his throat. When your jaw started to hurt, you returned to what you’d been doing at the beginning, aided by nature’s alternative lubricator: saliva.

"Stopstopstopstop,” Brad gasped after a few more minutes, gently pushing your head back. “Oh, fuck."

"What, too much?"

He didn’t respond for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as his breathing slowed. Finally he sat up. "Well, I don't wanna finish before we even start. Your turn, up here,” he stated, patting the bed next to him.

"I have a better idea, lay down again."

It had been all you could think about while you were blowing him. The way his mouth hung open as he sighed and quietly swore, watching what you were doing. You knew exactly how he’d repay the favor. As soon as his back hit the bed, you swung your leg over him, straddling his face.

“Oh. Got it.”

"Gotta put that porn-stache into action."

Bradley chuckled. “You know what? I’ll take that. Lieutenant Porn-stache, reporting for duty. And it looks like it’ll be a smooth ride today,” he said, running two fingers through your already slicked folds.

After whispering a silent prayer of please let him be good at this, you let him pull you down to his mouth, which began licking stripes over and around your clit. Every once in a while, he’d stop to gently suck on it, his tongue flicking over the bud repeatedly in the most obscene fashion, like he was drinking the god’s nectar. One of his hands ran up your leg, grabbing at your ass as you grinded against his tongue.

The visual of him between your legs was just as hot as you’d imagined it to be but suddenly, you wished you had been lying down for this as you struggled to stay upright, leaning forward against the wall for support.

As the pleasure became more intense, you instinctively tensed, almost pulling away, but Bradley firmly held you in place as your orgasm hit. Crying out, you were practically whimpering as the man below you did not let up as wave after wave washed over you.

As you fought to regain rational thinking, you barely noticed him lift you just enough to slip out from under you. Only when he returned from the bathroom, drying off his face with a towel, were you able to acknowledge him again.

“Did you have a nice ride?”

“Oh, it was just lovely.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.” He kissed you again, although now his mouth tasted overwhelmingly like you. “Ready for one more?”

He laid down next to you again and you realized his intention. “But I was just on top!”

“And maybe that’s where I like you to be,” he coaxed, grinning at you.

Looking into his dark eyes, you knew this argument was a lost cause because he looked so damn cute when he smiled like that, how could you say no? And again, your mind was getting ahead of itself, picturing what was about to happen. And it wasn’t a bad picture at all.

But your legs still felt shaky as you spread them, again straddling him, this time positioning yourself above his erection. Your hands resting on his broad chest, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, feeling his cock fill you up.

Stutteringly, you began to ride him, attempting to gyrate like those pornstars do and clearly struggling. But Brad didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he helped. Gripping your hips, his hands guided your movements as he thrust upward against you. It was slow going, but the two of you were able to find your own rhythm and steadily picked up the pace.

Soon, your own libido took over, urging you to ride him harder and faster and it no longer mattered if you looked like a pornstar because the way you were moving certainly made you moan like one. Briefly looking down, you saw Bradley’s eyes roaming over your body, but mainly fixing on that space between your legs.

"Like what you see?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do," he replied, looking up into your eyes. Somehow, that felt like something more than just his lust talking. If only he would use his words, but that would be an issue for some other time. Right now you were only fixated on how good this all felt.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Where's my phone?"

Luckily, it was on the bed nearby so you didn't have to break your connection, only momentarily slowing down your movements. Holding his phone up by his face, he said, "It's on video, keep going."

You returned to your previous speed of bouncing on his dick, eliciting genuine moans from you. But you also knew you had to play up for the camera and give him something worth watching when he was gone.

"Now I know why they call you Rooster," you said loudly in your most sultry voice. "Cuz you have the best cock around."

You barely finished the sentence before bursting into laughter.

“Goddamnit.” But Bradley was laughing too, shaking his head. “That was bad.”

“Yeah, okay, Lieutenant Porn-stache. You close?”

“I can be.”

Despite your enjoyment, you could feel yourself tiring. Brad turned off his phone, which had been recording the ceiling for the last minute or so that his attention slipped, and tossed it to the side.

"You gonna take a screenshot of that, print it out? Put it in your cockpit?"

"Uh, no, because I need my blood to be going to my brain so I don't fly into a mountainside."

"Fair enough."

"But I'll get plenty of use out of it, don't you worry. Come’ere."

You leaned forward, laying down on top of him. His arms wrapped around your body, the two of you kissing as you slowly moved against each other. The night’s events briefly replayed in your mind; the song, the jokes, the way it felt to be in his arms. As frustrating and enigmatic as he was, it felt like everything was falling into place, exactly where it should be.

“Should I pull out?” he muttered against your lips.

“No, I’m on birth control.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.”

His hands resting on your rear kept you in place as he picked up the pace. Pleasure began to form in your core again and soon you could tell he was close too, the feverish way he drilled himself into you. His lips left wet kisses down your neck as the two of you held each other as tightly as possible, hips grinding against each other relentlessly. You let your head fall into the mattress, panting and moaning against Bradley’s shoulder. Slick sweat started to coat your skin where it met with his.

Finally, his hips slammed into yours just a few more times, hitting just the right spot as you both reached your peaks. Your gasping swears were accompanied by his stifled groans against your ear, his cock pulsing inside you as his movements slowed.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, feeling the rising and falling of each other’s chests as your breath evened out. You could’ve fallen asleep like that, resting on his shoulder, if it weren’t for the uncomfortable way your legs were pulled up under you. When you finally raised your head, you saw your lovely lieutenant had indeed fallen asleep.

“Are you serious?”

He blinked awake, turning towards you. “Did you say something?”

“What, you cum and immediately pass out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about because you were fully unconscious.”

He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Nah, I don’t believe it. Fake news.”

“Fuck off.”

He was frustrating and enigmatic, but you couldn’t deny, he was exactly where he should be.

#Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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lale-txt · 1 year

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🌙 modern AU: OP kids teaching their dads how to use the computer

a/n: avoiding all the things i'm supposed to write and writing silly little headcanons like these instead because i needed something for the soul today and because my heart is soft and weak for any of these dads and their sons ugh („ಡωಡ„)

Law & Rosinante

deep breaths, Law is reminding himself as he watches Rosinante trip over the cable of the charger and almost take down the whole PC setup with him as he falls to the ground

this was the man he owed his life to, the man who burned down several hospitals for him, the man who never gave up even in the darkest hours… giving him a computer crash course was the least Law could do to show his gratitude

with a cigarette dangling from his lips Rosinante sits up straight, eager to learn all about the world wide web

he nods along eagerly as Law starts rambling about the importance of secure passwords and how to detect spam mails, that he should never ever click on one of those and never give out any private data about himself

as if Rosinante hadn’t lived an undercover life for so many years and didn’t know a thing or two about keeping data safe

Law is unfazed as he puts out a small fire caused by a smoldering cigarette someone dropped on the tittie mousepad (a gift from Rosinante’s brother who had obnoxious taste but at least it was good for the wrists)

he also continues his PowerPoint presentation when Rosinante slips from his chair when he wants to change his position and Law takes a mental note to never get him a gymnastic ball because that won’t help his dad with good posture, it will probably just break his neck

“any questions?”, Law asks after a 5 hour lecture and raises an eyebrow when Rosinate lifts his hand. now what could it be, he went into deep detail about everything, there’s not a single topic he hadn’t covered…

“so. how do i turn this thing on?”

Ace & Roger

his therapist had suggested some father-son-bonding time but Ace wasn’t entirely sure if that’s exactly what they had in mind

“you have to doubleclick to open it”, Ace says through gritted teeth as he watches his father trying to open the internet browser, the mouse disappearing entirely under his big hand

Roger laughs and pats his son on the back, just happy to spend some time with him

“but i’m clicking already, i think that thing is broken. maybe i’m just too old for this thing.” �� “no, you have to click faster. not like that. just… fast. oh my god, dad, are you kidding me?!”

Ace is close to gnawing at the desk as he watches Roger click anywhere just not the icon he is supposed to click

how did this man sail the whole world back and forth and can’t do a simple thing as opening an app and why does he want to learn how to use a computer anyway at his age

Ace is close to getting up and running out when Roger turns to him and smiles at him softly, almost apologetically

“you know… this is nice. i love spending time with you. now show your old man one more time how to write an email so we can stay in touch when you’re traveling.”

Ace feels a lump in his throat and takes a deep breath, putting on a stoic face as he lays his hand on top of his father’s and shows him how to click correctly

there’s many things left unsaid between them but not all of them were bad. after all, Ace would sit and smile when Roger replies to his email from vacation with an over exaggerated chain of smileys :-) :-D :-) :-D :-) :-D 8-D

Yamato & Kaido

listen, Kaido is trying, he really is

it‘s not his fault that this keyboard is TINY and his fingers are MASSIVE

lots of yelling and shouting and doors being slammed as Yamato’s patience is running thin

he comes back to Kaido crying in front of his tiny laptop and in the end will help his dad send out the “funny eCard” to his friends and subordinates

Yamato will show him how to use speech to text because that might be helpful when Kaido can’t type on the small keyboard, right?

little does he know that he opened the box of pandora with that

cryptic text messages at 2am, something about “running out of sake press send why doesn’t it send Yamato can you hear me this is not working send send send hello oh fucking hell hello? hello? i need more sake where is it where is it ahh it’s empty hello”

that’s Yamato’s breaking point; when he decides to get rid of the computer the following day and just gift Kaido a nice calligraphy set or something instead

because frankly, he never wants to wake up to a dozen emails from his father again written through entire phases of his drunk stages

emails he didn’t send to Yamato only, but to his whole subordinates to which Ulti replied to all with a simple “is Kaido stupid?”

also because he learned that people online call his dad “babygirl” and he’s not sure how to explain that to him…

#trafalgar law #portgas d. ace #yamato #gol d. roger #donquixote rosinante #kaido #donquixote corazon #one piece headcanons

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melody-everbelle · 1 year

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Pretty in Pink (Nathan Chen x Reader)

Title: Pretty in Pink

Pairing: Nathan Chen x fem!reader

Word count: 802

Warning(s): N/A

Summary: You and Nathan go on your first date... in pink.

Author's Note: Ever since I saw Nathan appear in the BAZAAR Icons 2022, I knew I had to write a fanfic inspired by it. Also, I was supposed to upload this yesterday, but Tumblr was loading so slow at the time, so I had to wait until the next day. Hopefully there will be no more delays again, but I can’t guarantee that will happen. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Image belongs to Harper’s BAZAAR.

***

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your makeup. Tonight was your first date with Nathan, and it was impossible for you to contain your excitement. You took a look at your reflection; you were dressed in a pastel pink pleated dress that ended at your knees, with its top and long sleeves adorned with lace that matched the color of it. Accompanying your dress was a pair of matching flats, with a bow at the tip of each shoe. Just gazing at your appearance made you look and feel like a princess. Perfect, you thought. As you were finishing your makeup, you heard a knock on the door.

"Coming!" You shouted as you headed on your way to the door. When you reached the door, you glanced through its peephole. As you expected, there stood Nathan, sporting a pink Hermès shirt and black trousers, carrying a large white rose with both hands. Your eyes widened and your face turned slightly red at the sight of him as you gasped and turned around, your back against the door. Oh my God, you thought. He's so hot. But how would he react if he found out your dress matched his shirt? After a moment of deep breathing, you mustered up the courage and pulled the door open.

You stepped out of the doorway all while maintaining your composure. Your grace and elegance was enough for Nathan's cheeks to glow red. "Hello, Nate," you greeted in an accent as posh as possible. "I see you're looking fine tonight," you smiled followed by a wink.

"Yeah, you too," Nathan replied, trying to contain his laughter.

"Excuse me," you teased with your fancy accent, "but what's so funny?"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "but I can't help but notice we're both wearing pink." He then burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah," you commented, "you're right." You started laughing along with him, immediately unmasking from the posh personality and reverting to your normal self. There was no way on earth that the both of you wearing pink on your first date was merely a coincidence. After catching your breath from the laughter, you wiped the wet corner of your eye and walked towards Nathan, embracing him.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you're still beautiful," he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, with you smiling in response. "Oh, and I meant to give this to you," Nathan handed out the rose in front of you.

You took the rose from him and brought it to your nose. You deeply inhaled its aroma; it had the most elegant scent you've ever sensed. "Thanks Nate," you smiled as you rested your arms on his shoulders, with your face leaning against his as if you were gonna kiss. "I love you so much."

"You too, Y/N," Nathan replied before giving you a very passionate and loving kiss that made your heart flutter. As the two of you parted lips, you noticed your lipstick stained on his lips.

"Oh my," you gasped.

"What is it?" Nathan questioned.

"I'm so sorry, but it's your lips," you replied.

"What about them?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I got lipstick all over them," you grabbed a tissue from your purse, about to wipe Nathan's lips when his hand signaled you to stop.

"Hey, it's okay," he chuckled. "It's nothing to worry about."

"You know what, you're right," you admitted. "Besides, I think you look cute with that shade," you winked.

"Aww," Nathan said softly before taking one of your hands and giving it a gentle kiss.

Your heart fluttered once again as he did this. Gosh, were you so lucky to be together with this cutie! Still holding your hand, he walked you over to his car and opened the passenger door, allowing you in. Before Nathan could close the door as you fastened your seatbelt, you asked, "So, Nathan, where exactly are we going?"

"To the party that my friend's hosting," he answered. "Figured this would be a great opportunity as our first date together. Hope that answers your question," he winked.

"I see," you chuckled as you watched Nathan close the door and go around the car to get to the driver's seat.

After an hour drive, the both of you arrived at the party. As you walked into there, with your hand holding onto Nathan's almost the entire time, you won the attention of multiple partygoers, either due to the fact that you and Nathan were wearing matching outfits, or the two of you were in love with each other, or both. All this made you look and feel like royalty, and that made you grateful. Tonight was a blast, and your first date with him was a complete success. Most of all, you were proud to be his. ❤

#nathan chen #nathan chen x reader #nathan chen x you #nathan chen x y/n #nathan chen imagines #x reader fanfiction #fem!reader

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beccascribbles · 3 years

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Can i ask for a suna x reader request where the reader is the team’s manager and swear she wouldn’t date another volleyball player after her ex, but suna changes her mind? 👀👀

a/n - this ended up way longer than i intended. whoops. honestly as i wrote this, i forgot all about the original plot. he does still change her mind though! it just became more of a best friends to lovers au (which i’m a big fat lover of). anyway, hope you enjoy :)

You swore off dating volleyball players the night you turned up at his house, tears rolling down your cheeks and red eyes. Your voice was hoarse when you told him, when you told Suna you would never date another volleyball player. The tears dampened his shirt as he held you, as he listened to you rant.

Suna hated to admit it, but a part of him was glad when he saw you on his doorstep that night. It meant you had finally realised what a piece of shit you had been dating and also opened up an avenue that had been previously shut for him. However, none of that mattered when you were in front of him. Any part of him that rejoiced at your broken expression disgusted him.

"All volleyball players are shit," you sobbed, pressing your face into his chest, choosing to forget that you were currently seeking comfort in the arms of one. "Can you believe he cheated on me?"

"I always told you he was a piece of shit," drawled Suna, rubbing soothing circles into your back. You bit back another sob, landing a light smack to his shoulder.

"And you're suddenly Mr Perfect?"

"I wouldn't cheat on you."

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway," you sighed, curling into the warmth Suna provided, arms wrapping around his waist. "A volleyball player and me will never be a thing again. Fuck that. I'm not going through that pain again."

That whole night Suna was there to offer you comfort. He let you wash in his bathroom, giving you one of his favourite t-shirts and a pair of boxers to wear to bed. He even gave you his bed to sleep in, saying he would sleep on the floor. You couldn't let him do that, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into the bed beside you. Suna was also the one who called your mother, explaining that you were staying at his house tonight.

And, the next morning, you were awoken to the smell of breakfast wafting through the house, walking down the stairs to be greeted by Suna on a video call with Osamu. It was clear Osamu was instructing him on how to cook, something that Suna struggled with.

"Morning, Rin, Samu," you greeted, waving at the phone screen as you stepped into view. Osamu eyes widened slightly at the sight of your clothing. You were still dressed in Suna's clothes, and, if you didn't know why, you would admit your reaction likely would have been the same.

"Ooh, y/n," sang Atsumu's voice, his head appearing at the top of the frame as Osamu pushed him away. "What have ya -"

He was cut off by Suna's barked 'shut up'. In a quiet voice, you stated simply, "My boyfriend, ex now I suppose, cheated on me."

"Did Suna make ya forget all about that loser?" asked Atsumu, his head now back in frame and pushing against Osamu's as he tried to claim the centre of the screen.

"Sumu!" snapped Osamu, shooting him a glare as he gave him a hard slap to the back of the head.

"If letting me cry and rant to him counts, then yes," you sighed, turning away from them and heading to the cupboard to grab a glass.

"Samu," called Suna, looking up from the pan helplessly, "what do I do now?"

He held up the food to show that it was burnt, charred to the point that it was disintegrating. Osamu let out a sigh. "I can come over and cook for ya if you want."

You nodded enthusiastically in the background, letting out an enthused shout. "Yes please!"

"Okay," he nodded, standing up from where he rested on his bed. "I'll be there in a bit."

"Don't bring Atsumu," pleaded Suna.

"I'm comin’," said Atsumu, poking his tongue out at the camera before Osamu hung up. Suna let out a sigh, looking over at you apologetically. His plan for a quiet morning with you to let you recuperate and prepare to face the world again was coming to an end. Instead, you would be thrust back into it with the presence of the twins, especially Atsumu.

You stepped towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Wordlessly, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. Head pressed against his chest, you mumbled, "I really don't mind you know. I love hanging out with the twins. You know that."

"I just wanted everything to be good for you, you know?" he admitted, resting his cheek on the top of your head. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

"Like you said, he was a piece of shit. I supposed it was about time I realised that."

"Yeah," he sighed, brushing a kiss to the top of your head. "It would've been better if you hadn't been hurt in the process."

"Well hey," you said, looking up at him with a small smile playing on your lips, "at least I know who not to date so don't worry. I won't go running into the arms of anyone on the team to make me feel better."

"You can come to me though," he murmured, voice low. You looked up at him, eyebrows raising in confusion.

"What did you say?" you asked, pulling away and moving across the kitchen to grab a glass from the cupboard.

"Um...," he hesitated, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair. He refused to meet your gaze, focusing instead on a point above your head. "Just that you can run to the twins if you need, preferably Osamu but I suppose Atsumu is good for a hookup. I guess it depends on whose hair you prefer. You've always had a thing for blondes..."

"Rin, I'm going to stop you there," you laughed, holding up a hand and cutting off his tangent. "You don't need to worry. Also, where'd you get the idea that I'm into blondes?"

"Well, your last few boyfriends..."

"Personally, I've always preferred brunettes," you shrugged, heading over to the sink to fill up your glass. You let out a light giggle. "Now that I think about it, it is weird that I always end up dating blondes."

“Evidence of your horrible taste,” he teased, forever thankful that you could take any awkward comment in your stride and put him at ease. It was something so natural to you. In fact, you had grown used to his occasional odd remarks, brushing them under the rug. There were times when you would tease Suna for it, but, most of the time, you let it slide. It was a part of your best friend.

You let out a gasp, holding a hand to your heart in fake shock. But then, you shook your head, face splitting into a grin. “You’re not wrong. Maybe you’ll have to teach me how to find a nice guy.”

“I don’t know if I’m the best choice for that.”

“You don’t know that. You’re always right about how horrible anyone I show an interest in is.”

Suna might always be right, but he was always searching for the bad points of those you dated. Jealousy drove him to overlook any of the good things, like how happy they usually made you the first few weeks you were together.

“Yeah, well,” he admitted, “I’m not necessarily looking for the good things when I judge your boyfriends.”

“You’re so overprotective,” you snorted, dancing around him to take a seat at the kitchen table. He didn’t reply to that, and you glanced upwards, taking note of his furrowed brow. You decided to change the topic of conversation, taking a sip of your water. Before you could, there was a furious knocking at the front door. Suna rolled his eyes as you stated, “The twins.”

“Well done, Captain Obvious,” he teased, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and headed towards the front door. He glanced back over at you. “Are you going to change?”

“Nah, it’s fine. They’ve seen me in worse states.”

That was true, and the fact annoyed Suna whenever he dwelled on it.

Atsumu, thinking he was being funny, had snuck into the bathroom while you were showering and stole your clothing, leaving your underwear. To be fair to Atsumu, he hadn’t attempted to peek at you in your naked state. It would’ve been difficult if he had tired considering the shower curtain was drawn. If he had attempted to look, he would have been subject to Suna’s wrath, and he had a number of photos of Atsumu in compromising positions that he could release. Suna wished you had just walked to his room and taken some of his clothes. Instead, you had strode downstairs in your underwear, ignoring the looks from the team that Suna had invited over and stood over Atsumu.

“Clothes, now,” you commanded, hands resting on your hips. Suna had been quick to leap up from his position on the sofa, pulling his sweatshirt over his head and tugging it over your own, moving you like a doll as he shoved your arms into the sleeves and pulled it down to cover your lower half. Then, Suna had also fixed a glare on Atsumu.

“You’d better fucking hurry,” he said, the set of his face threatening some kind of consequence. Atsumu hadn’t wanted to find out, getting up from his seat and jogging towards the kitchen, where he thought it would be wise to hide your clothes in a cupboard.

“You’re so irritating,” you grumbled, pulling on the leggings and then removing Suna’s sweatshirt, and throwing your t-shirt on. You held the sweatshirt out to Suna. “Thanks for the cover up.”

“Did you really need to strip again?” he spluttered, blushing furiously as he took his sweatshirt back from you.

“So dramatic,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at Suna’s embarrassment. Atsumu, meanwhile, had looked like a child in a candy store.

“I always knew ya were hot, but damn,” said Atsumu, letting out a low whistle. Though you appreciated the compliment, you didn’t hesitate to give him a hard slap to the back of the head.

“Don’t steal my clothes,” you said, before your lips tugged upwards in a teasing smirk. You leant in. “If you wanted to see, all you had to do was ask.”

It was Atsumu’s turn to blush then, looking away and avoiding your gaze. Both of you were aware your statement was a lie, but he couldn’t help his reaction. Suna watched with his arms crossed, quietly seething. His chest felt tight. Then, you had looked over at him with a bright smile and asked, “You picked out the film yet?”

Suna was jerked from the memory by an increase in the knocking and a loud shout through the door. “Open the fuck up, ya idiot. I’m hungry too.”

“Shut up, Sumu,” he grumbled, swinging open the door. He nodded towards Osamu. “There should be enough food in the fridge but, if you need more, just give me a list and I’ll nip to the shop.”

“I’ll go, too,” you piped up, appearing in the corridor behind him. Atsumu sprinted forward, pulling you into a tight hug which you returned. “Okay, you big oaf. You can let go of me now.”

“If you cry, he’ll let go of ya in an instant,” said Osamu, giving your head a pat as he walked past you and into the kitchen.

“It was one time, Samu,” whined Atsumu, releasing you and following his brother into the kitchen. “I’m great at comforting girls, better than you.”

“I can cook.”

“Yeah, well,” spluttered Atsumu, “I’m hotter than you.”

“We’re identical.”

“Still hotter.”

“Identical. Twins.”

“Just like normal,” you said, grinning over at Suna as he held his head in his hands. Any plans for a quiet morning went down the drain, but, when he glanced over at you to see your smile, he couldn’t deny that he was glad the twins had come over.

That happiness dissipated when Atsumu had been kicked out of the kitchen by Osamu and sent out with you to get the rest of the ingredients. Osamu had insisted that only Suna could be trusted in the kitchen, despite burning what he tried to make earlier. Ultimately, though, Osamu wasn’t going to trust him with cooking. He had simply wanted to talk to his friend, find out what was going through his head.

“So,” Osamu said, taking a sip from the cup of tea Suna had made before continuing, “how is y/n after last night? How are you?”

“I think she’ll be fine,” Suna said, trying to decide how much he was comfortable with sharing. Letting out an exhale, he decided he might as well take the chance to explain how he was feeling. Nothing good came from bottling it up, something that had become all too clear to him when he had almost taken advantage of the alcohol to finally kiss you.

It had been on your eighteenth birthday. Using the excuse that you only turn eighteen once, you had downed drink after drink, slowly growing steadily more drunk, evidenced by the way you had zero inhibitions to jumping up onto a table and swaying your hips enticingly for all to see. Suna had frozen at the sight, the alcohol he had also drunk making him feel slightly braver. He had walked over to you, offering you his hand as he helped you jump down from the table. He leaned in, yelling to be heard over the music.

“You want to go somewhere else?”

You looked at him in confusion, your drunken mind not being able to fully process his request. All you could really concentrate on was the party, the happy buzz lighting your nerves. “Why?”

Suna had drawn in a breath, steeling himself. “I have something to give you. In private.”

The promise of a gift had caused you to loop your arm through his, letting him guide you somewhere else. It barely even registered that he had already given you his present, a beautiful necklace, an ornate and delicate star as the one charm on it. He had pressed a kiss to your cheek after being the one to place it around your neck. In fact, you were wearing it at that moment, the lights glinting off the silver.

“So, what did you want to give me?” you asked under the light of the moon. He reached forward, tracing a finger along the curve of your face. Suna’s hand stopped its movement, cupping your cheek. “Suna?”

He let out a breath that tickled your face. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his lips a whisper away before a shout broke through the relative peace of the garden.

“y/n!”

Your head turned in the direction, pulling out of Suna’s grip in the process. Atsumu stumbled towards you, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “Come on. I convinced Kita to play ‘Never Have I Ever’ and he’s usually no fun at parties. You too, Suna.”

That moment between the two of you in the garden had been forgotten by you, but it replayed regularly in Suna’s mind. He buried his face into his hands, Osamu’s quiet support enough to prompt him to continue with what he was saying. “I don’t know if I will be though.”

When he looked up, his eyes were unusually vulnerable. There was a hesitation in his gaze, and Osamu waited a moment before prompting, “Why?”

As Osamu began to chop up some of the ingredients, Suna began to speak again. “She swore off dating volleyball players, and I think that extends to me. To be honest, she’s probably only ever seen me as a friend. Pathetic, right? I invest all this time into our relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I love her friendship. I’ll never take it for granted. It’s just frustrating. Do I act too friendly with her? Am I not flirty enough? Why was I friend-zoned?”

Osamu continued cutting, choosing his next words carefully. “She’s probably never thought to look at you in another way. It would make sense she doesn’t want to risk your friendship, Rin.”

“I understand that,” he sighed, “but, what can I do?”

“All you can do is try to show her how you feel and hope she realises you’re the one for her,” advised Osamu. Suna made note of this, though a part of him wondered if it was the best option. In his opinion, Suna was already showing that he had feelings for you. How could he make that more known? Seeing the uncertainty on his face, Osamu continued. “You could always ask Sumu for advice but I doubt it would be more useful than mine.”

It was some time before Suna was able to broach the topic with Atsumu, though this time with more hypotheticals than outright admissions. Your head was resting in his lap, your breathing steady as one of his hands rubbed absentminded circles into your back. You would be the first to admit you hadn’t had the best of sleep that night, falling asleep as soon as the film Osamu had chosen was playing.

“It must have been really boring if y/n’s already asleep,” teased Atsumu, giving his brother a playful shove which Osamu ignored. “She usually stays up out of pity.”

“Whatever, Sumu,” sighed Osamu, hugging a cushion to his chest as he became fully engrossed in what was unfolding on screen. It was hard to rile Osamu up when he was in his element, and, frankly, this film was one of his favourites. It made him dream of running his own chain of restaurants, though without the mafia using it as a front for drug trades.

“Hey, Atsumu,” began Suna awkwardly, immediately getting the other twin’s attention. Osamu was too focused on the film to care what was being talked about around him, something he would regret when Atsumu bragged about Suna confiding in him the whole way home. “Say you liked this girl, but she was your best friend, and swore off dating volleyball players. How would you change her mind and show her how you feel?”

“I’d just tell y/n how I feel,” he replied. “It is y/n we’re talkin’ about, yeah?”

Suna nodded, though the slight frown that twisted his face told Atsumu he wasn’t happy that he had figured it out. Atsumu simply shrugged, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

“It’s kind of obvious,” Atsumu said, glancing down at the way Suna gently brushed your hair away from your face, his other hands resting against the curve of your waist. “Anyway, she’d appreciate the honesty. No need to show her. You show her how much ya care everyday anyway. It might not change her mind straight away but havin’ it out in the open might help her come around to the idea.”

“Thanks, Sumu,” said Suna, genuinely meaning the words.

“They don’t call me the Love Maestro for nothin’,” he bragged.

“No one calls you that,” shot Osamu, tuning in for that part of the conversation. Atsumu turned to him, scandalised.

“Do too.”

“Name one person.”

“...”

“Exactly.”

Later that day, Suna walked you home, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leaning a bit of his weight on you as you walked. Your own arm wrapped around his waist instinctively to keep your balance. It felt so natural to walk along with him like this, something you genuinely missed when you were dating someone. It just felt disrespectful to the other person to act as you did with Suna while with them. A part of you recognised that the way you acted around each other could be construed as a relationship, but you had never thought to entertain the idea. He was just Suna, your best friend.

You came to a stop in front of your front door, and he released your shoulder in favour of wrapping both of his arms around your waist to pull you into a hug. Instantly, you relaxed against him, arms winding around his neck. When he pulled away, your hands still rested on his shoulders and you smiled up at him.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, eyes unusually soft as he stared at you. His eyes landed on the necklace around your neck, the star shining up at him from where it rested just above the neckline of your top. “I’ll see you tomorrow but if you need anything, if you just want to chat, call me, okay?”

You nodded, giving his shoulder a pat before releasing him. However, you made no move to step away and open your front door. Suna leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek. At that, he stepped off your porch, turning away from you. “Goodnight.” I love you.

“Night, Rin.”

When his phone rang at two in the morning, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting it. He was. It was normal for you to call him at random times of the night, particularly when you couldn’t get to sleep or had been awoken by a nightmare.

“Rin?” you breathed, voice quiet to avoid waking anyone up in your house. “Um, hi.”

“Morning, y/n,” he mumbled, switching you onto speaker and placing the phone down beside his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was just having trouble sleeping. Um, can you tell me a story?”

“Don’t you think we’re too old for bedtime stories?” he chuckled, though he was already shifting through his brain for a tale he could tell you that had not already been shared.

“We’re still in high school,” you protested, and he could hear the pout in your voice. “We’re not adults yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Are you ready?”

He heard the sound of movement through the speaker, the sound of you getting into bed and placing the phone on the pillow beside you.

“Ready.”

So, Suna began, telling the story of a foolish knight who had fallen for the beautiful princess, a princess who was at home when she was sparring with the knights, when she could forget about all the eligible bachelors from other kingdoms. She was a princess who ate with the Royal Guard, prepared the roster for their training sessions, and offered her support whenever she was needed.

His voice lulled you to sleep, and, before you could question what had inspired such a tale, your eyes had slipped shut and sleep had pulled you under. Suna heard your change in breathing, your soft inhales and exhales slowing until they reached a steady rhythm. He trailed off, reaching for his phone, finger hovering over the button that would end the call. He pulled his finger away, letting his hand fall back down onto the mattress. Suna fell asleep to the sound of your breathing. He could almost pretend that you were beside him.

Your phone was flat when you woke up, and you cursed, hurriedly plugging yours into the charger. You hated being late, hated not knowing what the time was as soon as you woke up. You jogged down the stairs, reading the time on the clock in the kitchen and releasing the tension in one exhale. There was plenty of time. At a more relaxed pace, you continued to prepare for the day.

It was a busy day for you as manager of the volleyball club, something that you were thankful for as it meant you couldn’t dwell on your break up. Even if you weren’t busy with your club duties, the team would provide a distraction. Atsumu and Osamu argued more as third years, the influences of Kita, Aran and the others no longer there to calm them down. Suna was no help, urging them on whenever he could and then documenting the whole affair on his phone to send photos and videos to Kita and Aran later. To be fair, you did little to break it up either, preferring to let them work out their anger. It worked, though Kita insisted there was a better way. If he wanted to come back to Inarizaki and deal with them, he could.

The sound of your phone ringing sent you running back up the stairs, dodging out of the way of a parent that had just emerged from the bathroom. Suna’s name flashed on the screen, and you accepted the call, perching on the edge of the bed.

“I guess we fell asleep on call,” he laughed, his voice rough from having just woken up. “Your phone died, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did, idiot,” you sighed. “Why didn’t you hang up once I’d fallen asleep? You usually do.”

“You sounded cute,” he admitted, glad you could not see the flush that dusted his cheeks. “Plus, I figured you would be smart enough to have it plugged in if I was.”

“Not a valid excuse,” you quipped, resting your head in the palm of your hand. With a laugh, you said, “I panicked this morning thinking I would be late. The coaches wanted me to meet with them before class. You don’t know how pleased I was when I walked down the stairs to see I still had a while before I had to leave the house.”

“Sorry about that,” he muttered sheepishly before clearing his throat. “Is it charged now?”

You glanced down at your phone screen. “It’s at about 20% so it’s probably not going to last the whole day.”

“You can use mine if you need to. It is kind of my fault after all.”

“Kind of?” you questioned, humour in your tone. “Don’t worry though. It should be fine if I leave it off until I need to use it.”

“Just let me know if you need to borrow it, okay?” he insisted. “We have late practice.”

“Yeah, I know, got to make sure you lot are prepared for nationals. No losing to Karasuno this year.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I’ll walk you home, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it, Rin,” you said. “My phone will last till then. Plus, you’ll be tired after practice. I’d be a bad manager if I didn’t make you go straight home to eat.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” he argued. “Besides, I can just eat at your house. Your parents say that I’m always welcome.”

“But then you’ll be going home too late. Won’t your mum be worried?”

“She’ll be fine. I usually stay out late, or are you forgetting the nights I’ve snuck over to yours and we’ve gone on midnight walks?”

“Fine,” you sighed, letting him win this time. “Don’t complain to me if you’re tired at school tomorrow.”

“When am I not half-asleep?”

“I’ll see you at school, Rin.”

“See you.”

There was no arguing with Suna over things like this. He was stubborn to a fault when it came to your safety. You might have been able to convince him to head straight home if your phone was fully charged. When that was the case, he insisted on staying on the phone with you the whole way, not feeling comfortable at the thought of you walking home alone in the dark. Suna wasn’t overbearing. If you honestly didn’t want him walking you home or calling you, he wouldn’t so long as you messaged him when you got home. But, you liked talking to him. That was the simple truth. You enjoyed spending time with Suna, and enjoyed talking to him. It was only Suna who wanted something more.

“So,” asked Atsumu, slinging an arm over Suna’s shoulder yanking him closer, “when are ya goin' to tell her?”

“Tell who?” asked Osamu. The look Suna shot him made him nod his head in realisation. “Ah, y/n… Wait, tell her? What happened to just showin’ her how you feel?”

“If that was going to work, it would’ve already,” said Atsumu, puffing out his chest proudly. “As Suna and I discussed, comin' clean and confessing is the best way forward.”

“I hate to say it, but he had a point Samu,” agreed Suna, sliding out from under Atsumu’s arm. “Anyway, I’m not going to tell her anytime soon. She’s had enough to deal with. She doesn’t need her best friend confessing to her straight after a rough break up. It’s almost nationals time as well. Confessing might throw off the team dynamic and I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I think you’re just being a pussy,” declared Atsumu, lips quirking upwards in a teasing smirk.

“I think you’re being smart,” said Osamu. “Wait until the best time.”

All Suna had done, was continuing to do, was wait. However, he made a concerted effort to be there for you more often, being the shoulder you would lean on for support. Unknown to you consciously, a part of you had begun to reciprocate Suna’s feelings. On occasion, it would be you who would reach out for him, locking your pinkies together and sharing a secret smile across the lunch table.

Over the course of the next few months, there were many late night phone calls, which quickly transformed into video chats. He listened to you, helped you work through the residual feelings from your break up. Being cheated on had left you feeling inferior, and Suna had been there to build you back up.

One day, you turned to face your friend Reo, hardly believing the words that fell from your lips. “Tell me honestly. Do you think I’m falling for another volleyball player?”

“Another one?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow. Then, the realisation finally seemed to hit her and she let out a gasp. “Suna?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, resting your chin on top of your open palm. “Am I just projecting? Do I really have feelings for him or am I just craving that kind of emotional connection with someone? Plus, it’s Suna. He’s my best friend.”

“Is that all he is to you, though?” she questioned, studying you. “I know he’s your best friend, but I am too. Who did you seek comfort from after your break up? Who do you fall asleep with over the phone every night? Did you ever act the same with people you were in a relationship with that you do with Suna? I mean, I know you haven’t kissed him or anything but you are more physically affectionate and open with him than people you’ve been in a relationship with. I know you’re going to be stubborn about this, say that’s just how you’ve always been, but I want you to think about how you treat each other. If you want my honest opinion, I’d say the feelings have always been there, especially on Suna’s part.”

You blinked at Reo, taking in what she was saying. It made you contemplate, think back on specific moments in your friendship with Suna where it was possible you had crossed some invisible line that you weren’t supposed to. But every moment with Suna felt so natural you couldn’t pinpoint where the line would be, let alone when you would have crossed it. It became clear to you then. You had feelings for Suna Rintaro. There went your vow to never date another volleyball player again.

If only Suna had realised you had made this realisation already. He could have stopped planning out how to confess to you with Osamu and Atsumu, their idea involving him reducing his contact with you until everything was prepared. That fact itself was easier said than done, and they couldn’t control what he did in the quiet of his home (which was find any excuse to phone you and talk to you).

That night, he asked you, “Can you be ready for one in the afternoon tomorrow? I have something planned that I hope you’ll like.”

“Sure,” you agreed. “I have something I want to say to you as well.”

He felt anxiety grip him at your statement, fearing the worst. His fingers tightened around the phone, his breath catching in his throat. You could hear his struggle through the phone and reassured, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you don’t think it is. I’ve just finally realised something and want to tell you in person.”

"Okay," he breathed, though the knot of anxiety in his chest didn't loosen. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good sleep. Love you."

"Night, Rin," you replied, feeling your heart flutter slightly at his words. The words had been said before in passing, but always with Suna firmly placed as a friend. "Love you too."

At one the next day, you were sat waiting for him on your front step, fiddling with your phone in your hands. You had just spoken to Reo for advice, her words soothing your nerves. She had told you it was clear that Suna wanted to admit something too, and, for some reason, having that knowledge outlined for you by another put you at ease.

Seeing him approaching, you rose from your seated position, gesturing for him to wait for you on the pavement. Suna came to a stop, holding out his arms for a hug. You were quick to relax into his hold, arms giving his own waist a squeeze before letting go. Smiling up at him with unusual silence, you asked, “Can I tell you something before we go? I just think you deserve to know.”

He hesitated. A part of him was curious, wanted to know, but the rest of him feared that your news would ruin what he had planned. Suna wanted to confess to you before you revealed whatever you had realised. “Um, can I show you what I planned first? It’s kind of important.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering how it could be so important that he didn’t want to hear what you said. At the nervous look in his eyes, you took his hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Still holding his hand, you pulled him after you, moving with confidence though you had no idea what direction Suna wanted to take you in. He pulled you to a stop, shooting you a smirk. “Wrong way, idiot.”

“It’s not like I can read your mind,” you sighed, throwing your arms up in exasperation. You gave him a grin. “Want to take the lead?”

“With pleasure,” he said, choosing to release his hold on your hand and drape his arm over your shoulder. In response, your own wrapped around his waist and you fell into step beside him.

The sight that greeted you was unexpected and took your breath away. It was oddly beautiful in a simple way, something no one had ever thought to put together for you before, despite its relative simplicity. You looked up at him, mouth dropping open in shock and disbelief. “You really went through the trouble of setting up a picnic for me?”

“Well, yeah,” he replied. “You said you always wanted to go on a picnic with someone you love. I figured I counted at least a little bit.”

“You definitely count,” you said, giving him a slight nudge with your elbow. “I’d probably rather do this with you anyway. On another note, who made the food? Because you can’t cook for shit.”

“Osamu might have helped a little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Maybe more than a little bit, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Whatever you say, Rin,” you grinned, wandering over to sit on the blanket. He sank onto the floor beside you, leaning his side against your own. You relaxed against his warmth, letting your head drop against his shoulder. His own head dropped to rest against yours, his hand reaching out to hold yours, tangling your fingers together.

For a moment, you sat in silence, cherishing just being together. Suna cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Before we eat, I have something to say to you. Can you promise whatever I say to you won’t change what we have right now?”

You looked up at him with concern. “I promise.”

Suna drew in a deep breath, releasing your hand and moving to sit in front of you. You let yourself miss the warmth of his body pressed against you, knotting your fingers together as you allowed your eyes to meet his. The hesitation in his face was clear, and you reached forward, resting a hand on his knee.

“Just tell me,” you reassured, smiling at him softly. “Nothing can change how I feel about you.”

“Okay,” he sighed, reaching forward, and clasping the hand you had rested on your knee. In that moment, he went for the bluntest approach. “I have feelings for you.”

You blinked over at him in shock, your grip on his hand tightening. That hadn’t been what you were expecting to hear, but hearing the words made your heart flutter. It made it so much easier to admit what you had finally realised. “I have feelings for you too.”

“Wait, you do?” said Suna, eyes widening in shock. This was far more than he could have hoped for. You nodded slowly, unable to help the own smile that pulled at your lips in response to his own.

Suna moved closer to you, letting his hand come up to rest against your face. He cupped it carefully, his thumb brushing against your cheek. Slowly, giving you the option to pull away he leaned in, only to let out a small gasp in shock when your hands gripped his top and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his. His hands slipped into your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, letting out a low groan of satisfaction at the feel of your hands slipping under the material of his top and rest against his bare skin.

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

“Hope it was worth it,” you giggled, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. He captured your lips once again, kissing you softly, delicately.

“More than worth it,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. You fell into his chest, ear pressed against his beating heart. It was still racing now, even though you had accepted his advances. You lifted your head up, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Want to eat the food Samu made now?” you questioned, turning in his hold and resting your back against his chest. His stomach let out a low grumble. You leaned forward, grabbing a plate of food and letting out a giggle. “I suppose I’ll take that as an answer then.”

3K notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 3 years

Text

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

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mysticpetals · 3 years

Text

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #duskwood phil

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sunwoo-hoo · 3 years

Text

↣ school blues

↳ a/n: here it is anon! i hope you don’t mind i altered the request a little bit. this was seriously one of my favorite requests to write so far so i genuinely hope you like it just as much as i do!

↳ requested? yes

↳ genre: fluffyyy + hint of humour

↳ send me a request here!

↳ word count: 1.6k

↳ summary: haruto x female reader (best friends) highschool au where you both are oblivious to each other’s feelings until a friend points it out.

「 7:00 AM 」 You jolted awake hearing the annoying sound of the alarm clock. You couldn’t believe it, summer was officially over and it was time to go back to school. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sure, you hated waking up really early in the mornings, and sometimes even skipping breakfast just so you could have those extra 10 minutes of sleep. But you realized it was all worth it when you got to see him. Watanabe Haruto your best friend for nearly 6 years. Was today finally the day you would tell him how you feel? No, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to destroy any possibility of ruining your friendship. He was everything you could ever want in a best friend, loyal, funny, always looking out for you.

Could you really risk it?

You sighed looking at your alarm clock when you realized you were staring at your ceiling for nearly 5 minutes. You reluctantly got out of bed getting ready to start your day. Once you showered, brushed your hair and teeth you decided to put on subtle makeup. I wonder if he’ll notice. Once you finished your morning routine you quickly gave yourself a once over in the mirror before leaving walking to Haruto’s house.

You had to admit, even though school was back in session you couldn’t deny how autumn was one of your favorite seasons. The crispiness in the air, how the leaves felt under your feet walking. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, it was perfect.

Finally reaching Haruto’s house you gently knocked on the door when his mother answered.

“Oh! [name] don’t you look nice” she said smiling warmly at you. “Haruto should be down any moment, I almost had to drop a bucket of water on him this morning because he didn’t want to wake up” she blurted laughing. Joining in with her laughter you couldn’t help but think of being in that same situation when you woke up.

When he finally came down the stairs you couldn’t help but stare at him. You were in shock on just how much he changed over the summer growing in at least 6 inches in height, nearly towering over you. His black hair was the perfect length resting against his forehead. His skin a milky white with no flaws what so ever. His lips which were not to big and not too small. The healthiest shade of pink. He was perfect.

“Earth to [name]! C’mon we’re gonna be late” he chuckled waving his hand in front of your face. You blinked losing your train of thought.

“Oh r-right” you mumbled

He grabbed your hand without a second thought pulling you out the front door as you faintly heard his mother shouting “Have a great day!”

You finally made it to school when you both saw your mutual friend Park Jeongwoo who you met through Haruto.

He was just as handsome with his tanned skin and charming smile but he was always like a brother to you.

“It’s about time you two made it, class nearly starts in 15 minutes” said Jeongwoo.

“We would’ve been here earlier but [name] was day dreaming again” Haruto smirked

You nudged him with your elbow “I was not!” you nearly shouted. He raised his hands up in defeat “Sure... whatever you say” he replied sarcastically pushing your buttons. You were about to retort with a snide comment back when Jeongwoo interrupted you both.

“I swear you two are like an old married couple” you glared while Haruto simply shrugged his shoulders.

You then heard the warning bell letting you know that you had to be in your first class in 5 minutes. You quickly said your goodbyes to Haruto since you and Jeongwoo had your first class together.

Once Haruto was out of sight and ear shot you pinched Jeongwoo “Ah-Hey! What was that for?” he grumbled rubbing the spot where you pinched.

“Why would you say that in front of him?” you hissed. Realizing what you meant Jeongwoo replied “[name..] it’s been nearly 6 years you have to tell him how you feel before someone else’s does” he reasoned.

You sighed looking down at the ground “I just can’t okay? I don’t want to ruin what we have”.

His eyes soften at you, he was in a tough spot. You and Haruto were his best friends, you two just needed that little nudge. He smirked at himself when he realized what he needed to do.

You panicked when you heard the bell, you were officially late to class now. You quickly grabbed Jeongwoo sleeve and made a run for it.

「 11:30 AM 」 Your morning classes were one big blur, but you smiled when you heard the bell ring indicating that it was lunch time. You quickly went to your locker to exchange your books for your next classes before heading to lunch. Doing it early so that you didn’t have to run straight after eating. Opening your locker your eyes nearly missed the piece of paper that fell out onto the ground. You were confused but picked it up anyway opening it.

「 Dear, [name] meet me by the courtyard after school by 4:00 there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. 」

Could it be? Was it really Haruto? There’s no way, did he know your feelings? But how did he find out? your mind was going a mile a minute until (speak of the devil) you heard Haruto interrupting your thoughts.

“[Name!!] this is the second time today I’ve had to bring you back to reality. Do I need to take you to the nurse?” he teased

You quickly crumpled the piece of paper in your locker before closing it shut. You rolled your eyes playfully “No, I’m just thinking about what I want for lunch” you replied.

He smirked “Me too, I’m starving let’s go. Jeongwoo already got us a table”.

What was suppose to be an easy going lunch with your two best friends your mind could only think of the note you received in your locker. Your body becoming extremely anxious. You were hungry before but now food was the last thing on your mind.

Haruto definitely took notice because once lunch was over he handed you a ziploc bag of fruit saying “You didn’t eat anything the whole lunch period. Are you sure your okay [name]?” he asked genuinely worried about you.

You gave him a faint smile “I promise I’m okay, it’s just first day jitters” you lied.

Haruto didn’t believe you in the slightest but he knew whatever it was you would tell him when you were ready. He gently moved a strand of hair that had gotten loose during the hectic day behind your ear before replying “If you say so [name] just promise me you’ll eat some fruit in your next class okay?” he pleaded

You looked up at him and smiled brightly “Of course”

“Good, c’mon I’ll walk you to your next class”.

「 4:00 PM 」 You couldn’t believe it you made it through the end of the first day back to school. You wanted to jump in excitement but it also meant you were finally going to face your secret admirer. What if it wasn’t even Haruto? That would’ve been the worst case scenario. Should you even go? No, enough was enough. You decided to face your feelings if it was Haruto or not.

You waited until most of the students cleared out for the day before heading to the courtyard. You sat by a nearby bench waiting apprehensively. Your heart started to race, your palms were starting to become sweaty and that’s when you heard him.

“[name?]” you turned your head and saw him. It was Haruto. You smiled “So it was you?” you wondered.

He looked at you confusedly “What do you mean? I got a letter saying that a girl liked me but I thought it was joke”

Your then felt your heart sank, but none of it made sense. You got the same letter but the context was entirely different.

You got up and walked towards him, it was now or never. No backing out now.

“Haruto... I do like you, hell, I love you. Ever since we met I knew you were the one for me. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime. You’re who I think of the minute I wake up and my last thought before I go to bed. I-I..” you rambled

He smirked grabbing your hand pulling you close, your mind couldn’t even comprehend when he leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. It was everything you thought your first kiss would be. Sweet, passionate, comfortable. Usually first kisses were horrible and awkward but with Haruto everything felt right. He brought his free hand up to your neck deepening the kiss.

When you finally broke apart you looked up at him.

“I’ve always loved you too [name]... I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I didn’t think you felt the same way” he revealed.

Hearing those words your body finally felt relaxed you softly laughed at him. He smiled in return.

He was about to give you another kiss until you both heard the sound of clapping coming from the trees.

You both whipped your head and saw none other than Jeongwoo walking towards you and Haruto. That’s when you realized it, hitting you like a bolt of lightning it was Jeongwoo.

“IT WAS YOU?!” you screamed at Jeongwoo

He laughed and responded “Of course it was me [name] you both are so oblivious. Aren’t you glad I gave you both the push you needed?”

You only glared at him while Haruto playfully shoved Jeongwoo.

Next thing you knew all three of you started to laugh, Haruto pulling you in close once more.

You couldn’t believe how from one school day you got everything you had always hoped for. Looking at both your best friends you thought to yourself.

This was going to be your best year yet.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#treasure imagines #treasure scenarios #treasure x reader #haruto x reader #watanabe haruto x reader #yg treasure #treasure #treasure reactions #[mine 🌸]#treasure fluff

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chenziee · 3 years

Text

Romance Dawn for the East Blue

Inspired by @feriowind‘s blessed tweet about Yamato winding up on Dawn Island :)

Enjoy 4k words of the 4 brothers driving everyone crazy :D

[Read on AO3 or below the cut]

----------

Slowly blinking awake, Yamato struggled to remember why he was lying on the beach of some strange island, the smell of sea salt and trash mixing in the air into something almost worse than the confines of his prison of Onigashima. Almost. It was still freedom after all, and Yamato would gladly take this disgusting smell over his father threatening to place bombs on his wrists.

Looking around groggily, his eyes finally fell on the sad, wooden remains of a small boat, a boat that Yamato had been using to sail this unfamiliar sea during the past weeks. And he finally remembered the terrible events that had led him to this island.

Yes, it was a dark, stormy night, the likes of which Yamato had never seen even in the unpredictable New World, and definitely not since his escape in the peaceful and calm East Blue. He had fought to keep his boat from capsizing, fighting against the strong winds and ocean currents all by himself for hours… but then suddenly, a Neptunian so large it could only have come from the Calm Belt appeared. Yamato had managed to fight it off but unfortunately, his boat suffered too much damage from the power of his Thunder Bagua. He was then forced to swim to the nearest shore with the last bits of strength he had left—

"I saw the Lord of the Coast attack the fishing boat this person was sleeping in. It was really funny, when they woke up, they screamed so loud I think even the people in Fuusha heard. And then they fell in the water while trying to stand up. But the idiot apparently can't swim so I had to go fish them out."

Yamato froze in place at the boyish voice who was retelling his heroic battle so rudely. Wasn't he allowed to at least pretend?

Another boy, this one sounding even younger, started snickering then. "I like this person, Sabo! They’re so funny!"

"Luffy, you're the last one who should be laughing here," a third voice sighed. "Anchor boy." Yamato could almost hear the cheeky smirk on his face as he teased this 'Luffy'.

“Don’t call me that!” the youngest one cried, sounding like he was about to fight the other boy.

“Ace, don’t provoke him,” the first boy chided. “You’ll wake the idiot with your fighting.”

That was it.

“Will you stop calling me an idiot?!” Yamato shouted as he sprung up to a sitting position, an embarrassed blush on his face.

They all paused at the sudden movement, blinking up at him in shock. Yamato glowered at them one by one, taking note of how tiny these kids were—the blond and the freckled one looked no older than 12, while the other could be maybe 8. The blond was the only one dripping in water, just as much as Yamato himself was, and Yamato could only assume this was Sabo, the one who had pulled him out of the water. That would make Freckles ‘Ace’, and the youngest one ‘Luffy’.

Yamato had to wonder, though, how Sabo was able to save him all by himself. Yamato was 16 years old, a lot older than however old these boys were, and he was Kaido’s son—meaning he was already much taller than some adults. Although, he supposed he had seen stranger things and people a lot stronger than a human their size should have been. An image of Oden during his execution came to mind immediately but Yamato quickly chased the memory away.

“Oh look, the idiot’s awake,” Ace said lazily, looking thoroughly unimpressed by Yamato’s glare and simply returning it with one of his own.

Luffy, on the other hand, grinned brightly, hopping over to Yamato to stare up at him with stars in his eyes. “Are those horns? Real ones?”

Blinking, Yamato’s hand automatically reached up to touch one of his horns. “Yeah?” he replied slowly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Was it that weird to people not from the Grand Line to see someone with features like this?

“That’s so cool! Join my pirate crew!” His grin only widened with his request—or demand.

Yamato tilted his head to the side. “You have a pirate crew?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, not yet,” Luffy said, a small pout appearing on his lips. “But eventually, I will be the Pirate King so of course I will have one!” he announced looking so proud and sure of himself and Yamato felt his lips twitch upward.

“Sure, King, I’ll tag along with you,” he laughed, seeing no harm in indulging the adorable kid. And who knew? Maybe he really would end up sailing with him. After all, in 12 years, the Nine Red Scabbards would come back to Wano and Yamato needed to be back there by then. He needed to help open the country.

And who was to say he couldn’t bring the Pirate King with him?

Sabo clicked his tongue then, walking up to Luffy and ruffling his hair. “Stop that, you don’t even know this person’s name.”

“Oh right,” Yamato said, hitting t he palm of his hand with his fist in sudden realization. “Sorry. I’m Kozuki Oden. You can also call me Yamato. Son of Kaido. Thanks for helping me.”

----------

“Ace! Luffy! What’s the meaning of this?!”

Yamato groaned; always a wonderful way to wake up. “Are you drunk again, you bull-gorilla? Go away it’s too early for this,” he shouted back, not even bothering to open his eyes.

There was a moment of silence until someone stomped over to stand right above Yamato’s head. “What did you just call me, you brat?”

Finally, Yamato blinked up at the person with long ginger hair, a cigarette between their lips, and looking decidedly female. He closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Oh you’re not my father. Whatever then.” As soon as he was done, he pulled his blanket over his head to try and get some more peace and quiet.

It might not have been his father but it still was too early for this.

“Dadan, shut up,” some one whined from somewhere around halfway down Yamato’s body.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?” another person joined in, their voice coming from Yamato’s other side.

Oh right. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had brought him back to their place last night; this had to be the nasty old hag they mentioned. Definitely seemed like one.

“First Garp drops you two on me, then you bring in more and more kids with you? What do you expect me to do, this isn’t a daycare!” It sounded like the woman was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Finally, Sabo spoke up, sounding about as sleepy as Yamato felt, “Dadan, this is our brother, Yamao. Yamao, Dadan.” With that, he flopped back down, his head coming to rest against Yamato’s thigh.

“I’m not a pillow, you three!” Yamato snapped upon the realization of how the boys were laying with their limbs thrown all over the place, Yamato’s own body included. “And it’s Ya-ma-to,” he added with a sigh, already giving giving up on convincing them to not use Luffy’s nickname.

“Where the hell did you manage to pick up another brother,” Dadan complained and Yamato was starting to feel a little sorry for her. He had to admit that dealing with these three was like fighting a hurricane and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since he met them. At least now he was there, a responsible teenager to keep them in check. She should really be grateful he happened to… choose this island to land on.

“Alright, kid. I don’t care who you are you where you came from—” the woman paused, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down and Yamato— “but I will not feed you. One bowl of rice per day is all I can guarantee you.”

Yamato laughed, “That’s not necessary. Oden could do it, I would be a disgrace if I couldn’t take care of myself and my brothers, too.”

Dadan stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, before she threw he hands up in frustration. As she walked away, Yamato could hear her mumbling to herself about stupid brats who couldn’t be phased by anything and how she was going to ‘let Garp have it’ the next time he ‘bothered to show his sorry ass’ there.

Yamato simply shrugged and went back to sleep.

----------

Life on Dawn Island turned out to be surprisingly easy and, even more surprisingly, fun. It didn’t take Yamato long to get to know the forest, the mountain, and the Grey Terminal beyond it, running around the place with his little brothers like he was born there with them.

“Yamao, where are you going, that’s the opposite direction!” Sabo called after him in exasperation, pointing the right way.

A few days after his arrival, he went to retrieve his kanabo from the waters just off the shore. Ace had looked at him, asking why he was so desperate if it was the same weapon the father he so hated used and Yamato couldn’t admit he had a point but… he simply didn’t feel right without it. It was his weapon as well now, and the bull-gorilla wouldn’t take that away from him.

It took him three hours of diving but the happiness and rightness of his kanabo next to him was well worth the effort.

“What are you two anchors doing?” Ace shouted from where he was in the water and towards the two at the beach, looking incredibly annoyed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance before turning back to Ace and replying in unison, “Building a pirate ship from sand.”

Just then, Sabo’s head popped out of the water next to Ace. “I need a break,” he gasped, struggling to catch his breath after being underwater for so long.

“This club of yours better be made from gold, Yamao, or so help me,” Ace grumbled before leaving Sabo to rest and diving in instead.

Once he had his kanabo in hand, it became incredibly easy to hunt even the most ferocious beasts around, allowing Yamato enough room to stay back and direct the young brothers, giving them pointers and helping them with their hunting techniques. Usually, he simply watched, letting the boys do most of the hunt, even if it meant the prey got away sometimes. After all, making mistakes and losing was a good way to get stronger. So he let them do their own thing while making sure they were okay, and only jumping in when necessary.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go around the river, then we split up. Me and Luffy will go up while you and Ace follow the riverbed. It’s risky, but on my signal, you will catch its attention and keep it distracted. Then me and Luffy jump down at its head. Hopefully that will at least knock it out so you and Ace can then come help us finish it. And Yamao—” Sabo paused, giving Yamato a hard, subtly threatening look— “if you run ahead screaming and scare it off again, we’re having you for dinner.”

Yamato could only gulp and nod obediently.

He even managed to impress the local Madonna, the cute pub owner Makino. The first time she had come to visit after Yamato had arrived, she immediately dropped all the food, alcohol, and children’s clothes that she had brought, and ran straight to him. She gave him all of her attention the rest of her stay. And even though Yamato wasn’t interested, he had to admit that being fawned over, and especially the jealous stares all the bandits were giving him, felt great.

“Oh my,” Makino muttered when she noticed Yamato. “Luffy did say Yamao was a little taller than him but…” she trailed off, her expression turning troubled.

“You don’t have any clothes big enough for him, do you?” Dogra asked, munching on one of the cones Makino had brought.

The young woman shook her head, sighing, “I think I’ll have to make them all from scratch. Yamao, can you come here? I need to take some measurements.”

"Yamao, you're blushing more than Ace did!" Luffy pointed out immediately, clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter.

Yamato made sure his hand was coated in haki when he hit the boy over the head.

Over all, he had to say he much prefered the life of a cool big brother over being a pirate crew’s' ‘young master’. It was a lot more fun, a lot easier to breathe. He never felt more free than he did while laughing and running around the mountain, plotting pranks on their brothers with Ace, or getting grounded— getting thanked by Sabo for running off and beating up the pathetic excuses for pirates who had hurt Luffy and threatened the boys' treasure stash.

Even Dadan's frustrated screaming felt more loving than anything the bull-gorilla of a biological parent had ever shown him. And no, it definitely wasn’t much more embarrassing.

----------

"I don't want to be a marine!" Luffy screamed one morning just as the others were getting ready to head out to work their brand new tree house base.

Both Sabo and Ace froze, turning to stare at each other for a moment with wide eyes.

"Run?" Ace asked in a whisper.

"Run," Sabo nodded seriously before they both turned to look at Yamato.

The teen simply sat there, turning his confused gaze between Ace, Sabo, and the direction from which Luffy's voice came a few seconds earlier. "What's going on?"

Ace and Sabo exchanged a glance once more, seemingly coming to a mutual understanding before Ace answered, "Go see for yourself. Luffy could probably use the help."

Immediately, Yamato was on his feet, heading outside to save his adorable baby brother from whatever monster he was facing. He was slightly suspicious of the high five Ace and Sabo had exchanged, not as sneakily as they probably thought, but as long as Luffy was in trouble, it didn't matter much to him.

As soon as he made it outside the little house, his eyes fell on the two figures fighting just a little bit away from the house. Obviously, one of them was Luffy, who was visibly fuming; growling and snapping his teeth like he was getting ready to literally bite the legs off of his target.

The target in question was a tall, although obviously much shorter than Yamato, and muscular old man clad in a bright red and white aloha shirt, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Luffy down. He looked thoroughly unimpressed by Luffy’s pistol punches—which admittedly still left much to be desired despite Yamato’s efforts to help him out; it was only a question of time before he managed to find the right bang feeling. The man he was fighting looked vaguely familiar but Yamato couldn’t place that face no matter how much he wrecked his brain.

But it didn’t matter.

“Luffy, are you okay?!” Yamato called in alarm, rushing forward while preparing to swing his kanabo at the stranger.

The both of them turned to look at him then, identical angry expressions on their faces and suddenly, Yamato realized who the man reminded him of. It was more than obvious where Luffy got his personality and expressions. Maybe he should… not attack this person on sight?

Making the decision for him, Luffy huffed upon seeing him approach, raising his hand and making Yamato stop. “Stay back, I’m fine! I can kick gramps’ ass myself!”

“Who’s ass are you gonna kick?” the man snapped, his light punch making Luffy clutch at his head. “You can’t win against the fist of love, Luffy!”

Yamato blinked. That was obviously haki but… fist of love?

Ignoring Luffy’s complaints, the man gave Yamato an obvious once over. “And who are you? Wait—” he paused, looking like he just remembered something— “you’re Yamao, aren’t you?”

“My name is Ya-ma-to, and I’m Luffy’s big brother,” Yamato replied, not entirely sure why he even bothered to correct anyone on his name at this point. No one ever listened.

“Part of the family already, hm? You have an impressive swing; you’ll make a fine marine.” The grandfather nodded, grinning at Yamato in approval.

Yamato did a double take. “I’m not going to be a marine!” he responded immediately, the horror he felt at the though clear in his voice.

“Exactly! We’re gonna be pirates!” Luffy joined in, fully recovered and launching a new rubbery pistol punch, which went completely ignored.

Gramps puffed up, raising his fist threateningly in front of himself. “Nonsense! All four of you will be the strongest marines the navy’s ever had if I have any say in it!”

“No way!” Luffy and Yamato cried in unison, the both of them jumping at the man in a joint attack.

A second later the both of them were rolling on the ground together, clutching at their heads and trying to recover from yet another fist of love. Seriously, Yamato only just met this guy, why was he getting a fist of love? Or better yet, why did it sound like he was already considered a grandson? He didn’t even know his new grandfather’s name.

He guessed it was simply one more proof of his relation to Luffy. It was exactly the same to when Luffy had decided by himself that Yamato was the big brother now, not even half an hour after meeting him, and just like back then, Yamato was powerless in defying that decision.

Not like he wanted to. He would be lying if he said being considered family so easily, so warmly, so unconditionally didn’t make him happy. But still…

“I’m already a pirate,” he growled. Not to mention marines did nothing but fight Oden and the Pirate King’s crew. Like hell was he becoming one of them.

Gramps took a deep breath, looking like he was about to explode, but Yamato interrupted him. “The navy wouldn’t want someone with my blood anyway. They’d execute me on the spot,” he said flatly, looking the man straight in the eyes, trying to convey how disgusted by the institution, the world government, the current world he was. Like hell was he participating in that. He’d much rather wait patiently for the one who was going to change it all and support them.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, neither of them faltering as they stared each other down silently. Until finally, gramps grinned, a smile so similar to Luffy’s that Yamato startled.

“If blood’s the problem, all the more reason you should join,” he announced, the smile never leaving his face even as his eyes turned almost sad.

Yamato tilted his head to the side as he watched the man slowly look at Luffy before his eyes slid in the direction of the bandits’ house. When Yamato turned to look, he could see Ace turning around and walking away, Sabo quickly following with a worried expression on his face.

Well.

At least Yamato wasn’t the only one who obviously hated his biological family around here.

Deciding to leave Ace in Sabo’s hands, Yamato turned back to the problem at hand but before he could snap at the man, Luffy did so for him, “No. He’s joining my crew!”

“Over my dead body!” gramps roared in response, looking like he was going to go off on a rant.

Yamato, however, wasn’t about to sit around and listen to that. “No, over my dead body. Do you even hear how fucked up it is that you need to join the navy to be safe from getting hunted? Neither of us going there,” he growled, baring his teeth for good measure.

The old man paused, blinking at Yamato once, then twice, before he burst out in laughter, one so loud, so honest, and so contagious that, despite having no idea what was so funny, it made even Yamato want to laugh. All his anger was forgotten as his lips stretched in a grin, shaking his head at the sudden realization of how weird this entire situation was. He barely knew what was even happening but… it wasn’t like Yamato ever really paused to think about things. If it felt right, he’d go with it. If it didn’t, fuck it.

And this, incredibly, felt right.

It was only a long while later that gramps finally caught his breath enough to speak, “I like you, kid. Are you sure you’re Kaido’s son?”

As if hit by the bull-gorilla’s Thunder Bagua, Yamato stopped laughing, only staring with an open mouth as dread ran through him. “How?” he could only say after a dreadfully long moment of heavy silence. Or maybe it was only a second. But it was too much, and made Yamato feel too on edge. Ready to fight. He didn’t want to even hear the bull-gorilla’s name; definitely didn’t want to hear it in relation to himself.

Gramps looked at him as if asking if he was kidding then, but with his only answer being a glare, he started laughing anew. “Kid, if you don’t want people to know, or the asshole finding you, maybe stop introducing yourself with ‘son of Kaido’ to anyone you meet. You have poor Makino quite worried.”

Oh.

Whoops?

“Yamao, you’re stupid,” Luffy laughed.

The teen huffed, shoving hard at Luffy’s shoulder. “You’re stupid,” he hissed back, making Luffy stick his tongue out at him.

Yamato saw it only fair he do the same in return.

Just then, a dark shadow loomed over the both of them and they slowly looked up, only to see gramps looking down at them with an evil grin on his face, slowly cracking his knuckles. “Whatever you say, I will train you stupid brats into proper marines, yet.”

Yamato finally understood why Ace and Sabo’s immediate reaction was to run, then send Yamato as what he could now only assume being a sacrifice. There was no way even Yamato was going to be a fair match for this man. “Oh fuck,” Yamato cursed, scrambling to his feet to follow Luffy, who who was already hafway down the clearing away after taking the first popped knuckle as his signal to bolt.

“Watch your fucking language in front of your baby brothers!” gramps shouted after him just before something that might have been a pine cone flew past him at an impossible speed.

Yamato and Luffy exchanged a glance, identical grins spreading in their lips before they both took a deep breath. “ACE! SABO! HELP!!”

If they were to die today, they’d make sure to take the other two down with them.

----------

Hours later, Yamato lay awake in his bed on the floor of the mountain bandits’ cabin long after his brothers started snoring softly. He was exhausted from the day spent laughing and running away from gramps—or Garp, as he had finally learned earlier that evening once Dadan finally stopped hiding from the man—but as opposed to the others, he didn’t want to sleep.

Not when gramps and Dadan were busy talking on the other side of this thin wall. What had started as the two of them sharing their frustrations and complaints about their kids quickly turned into fondness as they instead told each other stories about the brothers and their antics. Yamoto wasn’t surprised the bandit knew exactly where their secret base was, just as he wasn’t surprised by Garp only pulling out the most embarrassing stories he probably could.

It was a good thing the other three had managed to pass out the second their heads hit their pillows or they’d be trying to fight the old man all over again over it.

Yamato, on the other hand, refused to miss out on a second of this. The adults might not have allowed him to drink with them, claiming Yamato was too young for that—to which he not-so-politely disagreed, but then Garp’s fist disagreed with him—but they couldn’t stop him from listening. Those were his brothers they were talking about and he wanted to hear all about the past ten years of their lives that he had missed.

And if he maybe got a little bit happy every time they brought Yamato up, well… no one had to know that.

“Yamao, I swear if you don’t stop laughing at their shitty stories, I will strangle you with your own hair.”

283 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven��or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary : You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1 🞂 2 🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

86 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Text

Chan Request!!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Chan

Warnings: Language and Mature Content (Not really smut since the request didn’t seem to ask for it)

Genre: Idol AU

Request:

A/N: lots of people seemed interested in this one so...

When you woke-up that morning, you immediately reached out to the left on instinct, expecting contact with another sleeping form. It was your first sign that something was wrong, fingers ghosting through empty air, and you peeled your eyes open to confirm that Chan was already gone.

You grimaced at the faint flicker of irritation in the pit of your stomach because this was the third morning in a row in which Chan had left with no prior warning. The pattern was getting old.

Did he think you wouldn’t notice?

Of course you were bound to notice. Chan was supposed to be your partner. That invited a level of trust and transparency that simply couldn’t excuse these continued absences when you needed him.

It didn’t used to be this way, especially at the beginning of your relationship. For the longest time, you had both tried to hide it from the rest of the group, especially knowing that your manager’s would disapprove, but it was hard to lie when Seungmin accidentally walked in on you and Chan with the latter’s cock down your throat.

Still, the honeymoon phase of your relationship lasted for a long time, and even when you had problems along the way, you and Chan always managed to work things out.

It was the best part of your deep connection, but recognizing how distant he had grown lately made you reconsider everything. There was a point when you could hardly leave your bed without Chan finding a way to initiate something like getting each other off or managing a quickie with Chan’s hand placed over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum.

Frowning, you forced yourself to leave the lingering warmth of your bed sheets, squeezing your legs into skin-tight jeans, abandoned on the floor from when you had quickly thrown off your clothes before going to sleep last night.

It was another unpleasant reminder of Chan because after waiting hours for Chan to come home, you figured he had decided to spend the night at the studio. But you were vastly mistaken when he slunk into your room at around 4:00 in the morning, whispering a greeting to you after sliding under the sheets. You had slept more soundly once his arm was around your waist, deluding yourself into believing that you could forgive him for staying out so late.

Especially since Chan worked so hard to produce the songs that decorated your group’s track listings, and with the album deadline approaching for the end of the month, he was practically working himself into the ground,

There was also very little time in his overcrowded schedule left for you, and that certainly didn’t bode well for how much you longed for Chan between your legs....

“Y/N! Breakfast is ready!”

“Coming,” you shouted back at the door, annoyed that someone had interrupted your daydream fantasies.

Especially since it was the closest you had been to Chan in weeks.

It was probably Jisung’s interruption since he insisted on being the annoying little brother you could rarely escape, but it wasn’t his fault that you were in such a bad mood.

“Good morning,” he immediately chirped when you opened the door, gaze bright with mischief.

You grumbled a greeting in return to your bandmate. “Why are you on the girl’s side of the dorm?”

Jisung scoffed. “Oh, so Chan can have all the access he wants, but I’m the one scolded for just saying hello?”

You rolled your eyes at his tone. “Whatever. Who cooked this morning?”

“Felix did,” Jisung replied, and you perked up a bit knowing that one of your youngest group mates had taken the time to flex his impressive cooking skills - it had to be better than Changbin’s attempt at frying eggs.

“Let’s go,” you said, dragging a petulant Jisung behind you as you both sauntered down the staircase together, joining the others in the part of the house where everything opened up into the common area.

Your managers didn’t mind so much when you were all together in the shared space of the living room and kitchen, but that certainly didn’t stop unmitigated romps between your male and female colleagues.

Your group was a rarity in the music world: comprised of twelve members, including eight of the boys and three of your closest girl pals who had all agreed to audition with you on an unforgettable summer afternoon.

The fact that you were all accepted into the same company, under the same group name, was even more of a blessing in disguise. You could always rely on them whenever you needed advice, and you had steadily grown closer to the rest of the guys over the years.

Next month marked your fifth-year anniversary (it concurred with your 1st-year anniversary with Chan), and your group was planning to release an album to celebrate, including some previously unreleased gems that Chan had kept hidden on his computer’s hard drive.

Everyone was excited, but the tension of trying to be the best and accomplish everything on time was always weighing heavily on all of your group mates’ shoulders.

Chan was, of course, taking it worst of all, and you were seething beneath the surface when you spotted him at the table sitting between Changbin and Hyunjin, eating breakfast with his eyes glued to his phone screen.

Why didn’t Chan ask you to come to breakfast with him?

“Y/N’s here,” Jisung announced, abandoning your side for his usual spot between Lisa and Sana.

Several of your group members mumbled greetings, but you were disappointed to discover that Chan hadn’t even looked up from his phone.

“Thanks, Felix,” you whispered when you sat down next to the blonde-haired singer, immediately peeling into the croissant that he served you.

“Is everyone coming to the studio later?” Minho asked, summoning your attention. “We need to go over the choreo one more time.”

Your muscles screamed in protest, but you reluctantly nodded your head. Meanwhile, Jisung let out an exaggerated groan at the thought of another six-hour practice.

“You need it the most,” Minho teased him, and you smiled at the good-natured jab between the two.

At the same time, you watched as Chan rose from his seat, depositing his plate into the sink. You rose to meet him halfway to the door where he stuffed his arms into the sleeves of his leather jacket.

“Chan, do you have plans tonight?” you sheepishly inquired, wincing when you realized how ridiculous it was for you to walk on eggshells around your boyfriend and group mate.

“Busy,” he grumbled, and he didn’t even bother to look in your direction on his way out the door.

Later on at practice, there was an obscene amount of sweat in places where it shouldn’t be, and you were just about tired of Chan’s constant criticism.

For the entirety of your dance practice, Chan had taken every opportunity to berate your group members for even the most minor of mistakes, including your own.

“Y/N!” Chan barked, and you flinched at his harsh tone, sucking in deep breaths to satiate your demanding lungs. “We’ve been practicing this for weeks!”

It was the fifth time that he had stopped the song at the introduction of the chorus - the part where you were supposed to do a backflip into frame.

Apparently, Chan thought that your form was sloppy, and you bit your tongue to snap back at him. Obviously, he couldn’t seem to comprehend that you were hurting, and he was forcing everyone to endure hour after hour of constant movement.

“Get your head on straight!” Chan insisted, and for some peculiar reason, it wasn’t anger or frustration with Chan that had you pausing.

It was a far more heart-wrenching combination:

Sadness.

Bitterness.

Shame.

They bombarded you all at once, and you barely managed to swallow back the onset of tears before you were storming out of the practice room, ignoring Chan’s calls of your name.

It was instinctual for you to find refuge in the empty studio rooms on the top floor of your company building - where most people tended to avoid.

You could always find solace in the quiet between four walls, pressing down against the keys of the electric keyboard attached to the big, fancy computer monitor.

The same tedious note played over and over again, but it seemed like the perfect metaphor for your life at that moment.

Especially your relationship with Chan.

But the silence was never permanent, and you used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe away the fresh evidence of tears when you heard the door to the studio room opening.

You immediately turned around, heart-sinking in your chest when you realized that it was Changbin instead of Chan.

“Hey, Binnie,” you said, feeling his gaze on you as he entered the empty studio room.

“What happened earlier?” he asked, always blunt and straight to the point as he drug a chair closer to where you sat.

“Just frustration,” you said.

“With yourself?” Changbin asked, but his tone left much to be imagined, and you grinned at his astuteness.

“With Chan too.”

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded - like it made perfect sense. “I can tell.”

“He’s been preoccupied with the album,” you said. “I get that it’s more important than me.”

“Hey!” Changbin protested. “You know that’s not true.”

His soft and sympathetic tone almost made you start crying afresh. “He doesn’t have time for me anymore.”

Changbin was quiet, studying you intently. “Chan gets wrapped up in what he’s doing too easily. It’s like this zone for him, and nothing else is allowed in that zone except for music and lyrics.”

“So, there’s no space for me?”

“I think there should be,” Changbin countered. “And you need to tell him that.”

You sighed at the thought of confronting Chan after everything that had happened earlier. “I don’t know...”

“Be honest with him, Y/N,” Changbin said, and he reached out to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “Everyone knows that Chan loves you more than anything.”

“He has a funny way of showing it,” you scoffed.

“So tell him that,” Changbin said - like it could be so simple.

Or....maybe it was?

That night, you knocked on Chan’s bedroom door twice before entering at his gentle inquiry.

“Hey,” you said, hesitating in the doorway.

“Y/N,” Chan said, and you were surprised to see him close the laptop screen, patting the empty spot next to you on the mattress. “Come here.”

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet into gear as they brought you to his bedside. “I didn’t want to bother you-”

“You’re not,” Chan said, and his gaze was chastened as he sighed. “Changbin talked to me earlier...”

“Of course he did,” you grumbled, planting yourself next to him.

“Yeah...” Chan trailed off again. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

You frowned. “For what exactly? Seems like I’m the one who got in the way. Guess you haven’t really needed me these past few weeks.”

“Are you kidding, Y/N?” Chan frowned, leaning up to kiss you suddenly and unexpectedly. “Of course I always need you.”

You could barely contain your smile, pulling apart to sigh happily at his reassurance. “It’s just...I know we have the album, but I thought we could still do the little things like we used to.”

Chan nodded, gaze contemplative. “I’ve been ignoring you without even realizing it.”

You allowed your eyes to fall. “And in practice today...”

“That was uncalled for,” Chan interrupted. “I should’ve never raised my voice. The stress I’m feeling shouldn’t punish everyone else...especially you.”

His tone was earnest, and you could feel your shoulders dropping with every word. “Changbin was the one who said I should talk to you.”

“He was right,” Chan said, leaning in closer again. “You can always come to me, yeah?”

“I really didn’t feel like I could,” you admitted.

“Then that’s my fault,” Chan said. “It’s something I need to work on cuz’ we’re in this together, Y/N.

He smiled then. “You aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon.”

You giggled at his teasing. “I can’t help it that I like you so much.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Chan whispered, eyelids drooping when he watched you move your hand against his thigh, coming to rest at the interesting outline at the front of his sweatpants.

“I’ve also really needed you.”

“Are you gonna put me in my place, love?” Chan asked, and you hated the arrogant smirk taunting you just as much as your shameless act of groping his cock through the front of his pants.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “I can do that for you.”

It took less than a second for Chan to roll over top of you, grinning in a self-satisfied way as he slowly pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs.

You watched him with a contented groan as he threw them into the floor, parting your thighs to make room for him. Closing your eyes at the first swipe of his tongue against your slit, searching for a familiar mess of curls through a narrowed line. “I’ll make it all better, love,” Chan promised, and your fingers shot out to find purchase against his strong shoulders, arching your back at the promise of a night you couldn’t possibly forget.

#bang chan smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz fanfic #mostly competent

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted.

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #vampire au #ttybh #to taste your beating heart #writing #my writing #well. hope this is good.

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o-pandora-o · 3 years

Text

Baker MC: April Fool's Special

Baker MC strikes again! Fooling the Demon Brothers in April Fool's by their realistic cake. How would they react?

Note: I would like to apologize beforehand, some of the brothers turned out to be boring rather than funny. I will try to edit this when I have the time.

Lucifer:

[No image was available for this]

Background: You planned this with the Anti-Lucifer squad. You hid all his pen in his room leaving a suspicious "pen" that looks like the pen he usually use. Satan put a powerful spell on the pen, removing its sweet scent to avoid the suspicion. You put a hidden camera to see his reaction.

Luci daddy came home tired from all the things he'd done in RAD.

He still have some paper works to finish, he put the paper works in the table and sat on his chair.

Ya'll saw him eyeing the "pen"

He picked up the pen and was gonna start writing until he glared at the camera and crushed the pen.

It was a chocolate and strawberry cake

He licked the strawberry (the filling of the pen) that splattered near his mouth, made a grin, glared at the camera and said "Run."

You all ran for your lives, spreading inside the House of Lamentation

Did you succeed in running : Nope

Did you three hang from the ceiling: Yes

Ya'll saw him smirk and laugh like a madman afterwards

Bonus:

Lucifer took a picture of you three hanging from the ceiling and sent it in the group with Diavolo.

Ofc ya'll didn't knew, you were hanging from the ceiling

Levi made it a meme and posted it on Devilgram AND gave Lucifer and Diavolo a printed copy

April Fool's to you

Mammon:

Credits to: The BakeKing

It was your turn in making dinner and Mammon kept bugging you if he can help.

"No Mammon" you kept on saying but he was still bugging you.

You weren't really mad at Mammon (honestly you thought it's funny), but to make things interesting...

"I SAID NO MAMMON" you shouted at him.

"LOOK WHERE YER CUTTING HU--AAAAHHHH!!!" You cut your hand and blood was running.

"AAAAAH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID MAMMON" you screamed.

"MCCCCCCCC YOUR HAND" yes I can see Mammon He screamed loud enough that it can be heard at Diavolo's castle.

Glad you two are alone in the House of Lamentation though

You were wearing a long sleeved jacket and the "cake" was your hand; it was like a lava cake, instead of chocolate it was darkened and smoothened strawberry puree.

You glared at him and blamed him

Poor boi was crying, kept apologizing, and saying the lines of "I'm sorry", "I'm so dead", and "Let's take ya to the hospital".

He shitted on his pants and kept panicking poor boi

It was hilarious tho

He was crying and you couldn't hide the laughter

"Oi! Did someone hit ya in the head? WHY ARE YA LAUGHING YER HAND WAS CU-" and he he saw that the interior of the so called "hand" was made out of strawberry and strawberry puree.

"April Fool's Mammon!" you told him as you finally reveal your real hand.

"MC! Why did ya prank me?! It wasn't a good prank! I thought you-" You shushed him while you gave him a small bag of grimm.

"Is it for me? Are ya sure ya ain't pranking me this time?"

"Yeah, now buy what you want to buy, I will just go to my room for a while" you replied.

Cue you teleporting

It was a bag full of gold-coated chocolate that looks (and is heavy) like a bag of grimm.

"MCCCCCCC!!!!!"

The next few days you see Mammon pouting and murmuring things about you.

You felt bad so you left grimm on the floor of his room every time you were near it

Leviathan:

Credits to: The BakeKing

On April 1st, Levi was required to go to the school for academic purposes, so you took this chance to play a lil prank on him.

When Levi was away, you hid all the items that he usually use: computer, consoles, Azuki-tan pillow, and some Ruri-chan figures.

And you took time to make realistic cake that are very similar to those you hid.

When he was almost home, you placed all the realistic cake on his room.

You were supposed to go on a raid with him when he comes home

Cue him coming home and going to his room

You visited the him in his room, panic reflecting off his face.

"Levi, is there something wrong?" you asked

"Ah, it's this computer, it doesn't open! And it seems I'm kind of making a dent on it too. It's so weirdddddd" he said

He got a bit forceful and his finger created a hole on the computer

"Eh? Cake? Mc did you do this? Lmao"

You hand him a note that says "Look for the cakes, the location of the real ones lie at the last treasured cake"

"Oh boy mc a scavenger hunt, its like the new anime I was watching 'My fiancée is a criminal mastermind that kept giving me clues to find the missing items and bodies to make myself famous' " I'm really sorry I really suck at names

So he proceeds with finding all the cakes, and he got all the real things for his room however...

" MC where is my limited edition Ruri-chan that is dressed like a succubus?"

"It's there, it was with the other Ruri-chan figures" you said as you were looking at the figures that he was holding

Turns out Mammon saw all the goods on your room, and took the chance to get one since he knows it wasn't yours.

April fool's? I guess.

Satan:

Credits to: SideSurf Cake Studio

You were helping him in his cooking duty today.

You requested that both of you make human food because apparently you "missed the taste" of the cuisine.

So you took care of the usual ingredients of the cuisine: vegetables, onion, garlic, meat and etc.

He didn't know or did he that you secretly placed realistic cake counterparts of it.

When it was cooking time, he selected the cake counterparts (this boi might be smart but you were from the human world so he thought it was correct).

He started cutting an onion, to his dismay he saw a soft chocolate interior.

"Huh? That can't be right, I believe onions should either have violet, yellowish, or whitish hue inside"

"Hmmm yeah, let me try this one" you said as you grabbed another onion and proceed to cut it

"Hm, this one is the right one, I wonder what happened to that" you said

STOP THE CAP MC

"Hm, anyways I will proceed in cutting the rest"

Bottom-line all he cut was cake and what you cut the real one

"Satan, maybe you were cursed? All the ingredients that you touched turned into cake" you said as you were preparing to take the meal to the dining area.

"I suppose that is the case, however... "

"Hm?" you said as you were supposed to bring the meal outside.

"However I have outsmarted you MC, I knew it was you who made those realistic mini cakes" he said as he took a bite of the onion cake while grinning smugly

Smart boi #2

"I-uhhh No it was not- Hey wait a min! If you knew why did you continue to make me believe you were fooled!" you replied

"April Fool's MC~, if I didn't do that I wouldn't have extra time to spend with you" he said as he got out patting your head

Satan, you slick son of a bish

Asmodeus:

Credits to: Etsy

This guy is late for school

Did you plan to make him late? Yes No

Cue flashback: you ruined his beauty sleep 3 times which resulted in kicking you out of his room and made him wake up late

Well even though he is late, he would still do his morning routine without rush

Priorities ✨

You put a small camera on top of his cabinet to see his reaction

After hours of bathing he sat down to his dresser

He grabbed his toner and when he squeezed it lightly it nothing came out

"Ehhh? That's weird, I could've sworn this is the new toner I bought" he squeezed it more and the toner was destroyed revealing a squished vanilla cake

He sighed and said "MC did it again"

He tried looking and poking all of his makeup just to make sure it's not mini cakes

10/10 are all mini cakes

He saw a note that said "In the drawer lies the real make up hehe April Fool's day!"

When he came to RAD, he was already late for 4 hours

"MC when I said I wanted Makeup mini cakes, I wanted it for my birthday! Not today!"

Is disappointed at you

Will frown and pout when he pass by at you during school

Well you feel bad at pranking him so you treat him at an exclusive spa

Beelzebub:

Credits to: The Custom Cake Shop

I mean Bell eats everything, so is there even use?

Beel had the whole day working out

Since he didn't have much money (not that you persuaded him to bring less, no-) his only option is to go home and eat

During the time he was working out, you made different flavored cakes and pastries into dishes. You made a ton of (chocolate-strawberry cake into) cheeseburger, (cheesecake) devildom sushi, cake turned into slushy (the container can be eaten too), plates can also be eaten, etc.

Well you made Beel drool, he didn't waste time so he sat down and took a bite of the cheeseburger

He was slightly shocked because it was sweet rather than savory

But that didn't stop his hunger

It was about 10 mins till he finished what you have created in 12 hours (and more)

"MC all you made was really delicious, now I want something salty to eat...Let's eat dinner!" he said as he dragged you to eat

April fools to you

After that whenever you gave him something to eat/drink (like a glass of slushy or something) he would try to also eat the container

Poor kitchenware and Luci's budget

Belphie:

[No image was available for this]

This boi knows

Smartboi #3

You gave him a pillow that is the same as the pillow he usually carries

He didn't really say anything about it, but he knows for a fact that it is cake

He slept on it

Your hard work in making it realistic,, he slept on it

You came back to his room and you wait for him to wake up

"Mcccccc, this is so fluffy like my favorite pillowww, but it's not really a good way to prank someone, but on the other hand it's really convenient...."he said as he yawns and signals you to come to his bed

He took a bite of the errrr pillow and said" This is really good, like the last time you made a toilet paper, but you know what else is good?"

My love for you jk

" Hm?" you replied

" This!" he said as he began tickling your sides

You fight him back and tickle his sides when you had the chance

It ended of as you two were panting and laughing in bed

Poor cake pillow forgotten

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monsterfuneral · 3 years

Text

sparks in the rain | bill and ted | ch. 2

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Coming Soon

Relationship: Poly!Bill and Ted x Fem!Reader

Summary: A malfunction with the booth lands Bill and Ted into the most peculiar situation they’ve been in, stuck in the year 2021 standing in front of a woman they never thought they’d meet.

Words: 1.5

Warnings/Tags: nothing

Author’s Note: After like actually outlining this a little more, I think this story will end up being one of my favorites I’ve written.

REQUESTS OPEN | MASTERLIST

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

This was the most unusual day for both Bill and Ted. Sure they had experienced mishaps with the booth, and sure they had also met people that they vaguely knew about. But they had never met someone that knew about them. Especially when it came to an on screen babe like Armageddon Lady, who had totally been Bill’s biggest crush for a majority of his teenage years. Not that he’d admit that to anyone other than Ted though. And here she was in the weirdest of coincidences, standing right in front of them.

“What?” Ted asked dumbly as he heard the girl in front of them blurt their names. His brain struggled to keep up with the situation.

“Dude she totally knows who we are somehow!” Bill said with an almost starstruck look on his face, his eyes sparkling in amazement.

You stayed silent though, staring at them like a deer in the headlights. Your mouth agape as you, like Ted, tried to process what you was going on. While running into celebrities in the middle of your apartment complex was one thing that would never happen, seeing two movie characters that you liked standing just seven feet away from you was next to impossible… No it was impossible.

You had to be dreaming still. A very vivid dream where you were going to the crafts store to pick up a new set of markers, before suddenly running into Bill and Ted of all people... In a dream. There was literally no other logical explanation.

“Woah, you look like you’re going to hurl, Miss. Armageddon Lady, dude- babe.” Bill stumbled on his words like a nervous child talking to his first crush. Which honestly wasn’t far from the truth.

“I- This isn’t real.” You concluded, finally removing your hand from inside of your purse and straightening your back. You were almost tempted to just turn around and walk back into your apartment, but you didn’t. Instead you thought over the jumbled words Bill had said to you, something sticking out more than anything else. “Why do you keep calling me that?” You asked, your brows drawing together as you looked at the blonde for answers who looked at you with widened eyes.

Ted suddenly remembered something Rufus had told them not too long ago, alternative universes and whatnot, where things are different from their world but can also connect somehow. He talked about how sometimes the booth can malfunction and send them rocking into another circuit without them even noticing. That’s probably how they ended up here!

“Bill... I don’t think we’re in our world anymore.” Ted chimed before Bill could even attempt to come up with a sufficient answer that would satisfy you.

“What?” Bill asked, looking up at Ted.

“Yeah! Remember the thing Rufus told us a few months back?”

“Don’t over-tighten the guitar strings because they could break?” Bill answered, bringing up an entirely different conversation they had with Rufus.

Ted shook his head looking behind his shoulder and to the still sparking booth “No dude! The whole alternate dimension thingy.”

“OH YEAH!”

You watched the both of them converse, your own brain still trying to catch up with the bizarre situation, still not entirely convinced this wasn’t a dream. You tried pinching your arm a few times, at least testing it out to see if that trick even worked, but you were still standing in the same place right in front of them. It was all so much to process at once and so early in the day, even though it may have been 11am, it was still too much.

“So you really didn’t put in the wrong number then.”

“I told you so Bill!”

They paused, smiling at each other before both shouting “Excellent!” in unison before air guitaring. The action was all too familiar but unfortunately missed the overlapping guitar that would play when they did it. Both boys stared at each other for a second afterwards, beaming smiles still ontheir faces. Their stare lasted a beat longer than you were used to seeing on screen.

A shiver wracked through your body, the jacket you had not shielding you from the cold that the rain brought like you had hoped it would. You clutched your arms, pulling them a little tighter to your chest. It only continued to solidify the fact that this was probably real and not a dream at all, like you had thought. I mean, sure you had considered the possibility of fictional universes being real, who hasn’t? But it was just a theory you played into half-heartedly but never considered it to actually be true.

A hand waved in front of your face, jolting from your deep train of thought where everything you previously thought was impossible could be and it was just too much. Reality as you knew it was both expanding and collapsing all at the same time.

“You good, other dimension babe?” Bill asked, a small smile on his face as you stared at him with wide eyes.

Ted tilted his head as he watched you curiously. Sure you looked like Armageddon Lady and her actress, but you were neither, you just looked like them. He had an easier time accepting this as a reality than you did though, already having his experience with the impossible. But you looked like you were about to explode from the overload of information. He felt sympathetic. He thought back to a conversation he had with Rufus a year after their first time traveling in the booth, remembering how Rufus told him how he had seen others cope with the discovery of time travel, how some people just could not handle the information and it literally drove them to insanity. Ted would feel like such a dick if that happened to you, even if he didn’t know you.

“I-” You started, abruptly stopping as you tried to piece your words together “I think so?” You clutched the strap to your purse a little harder, blunt nails digging into the leather slightly “This is all just… A lot to process.”

“That’s okay!” Ted reassured softly with a wide grin, his hair falling in front of his eyes slightly as he nodded and looked down at Bill who was also nodding along.

Your fingers were starting to feel numb and you shifted on your feet for the first time since you were stopped in your tracks. Your knees felt stiff from not moving for so long and you were shaking a lot more than you thought, the cold starting to deep into your bones and making your teeth chatter. You were sure they weren’t feeling any better as they were both wearing short sleeved shirts, and Bill was wearing a crop top.

“I know you guys don’t know me but it’s freezing out here and it’s supposed to get colder.” You said looking back at your apartment door, trying to draw your coat closer around you “Would you like to come inside? I can make some coffee-” You watched Bill pull a face at the mention of the bitter beverage “Or some hot chocolate, up to you.”

“Sounds great.” Ted answered, glancing behind him once more at the booth before back at you, “Lead the way!”

The warmth of your apartment was more welcoming than the quickly dropping temperature outside. The rain clouds had left the sky dark and your living room was close to being pitch black. You carefully maneuvered past the couch and over the bean bags that were carelessly strewn across the floor in front of the TV stand. You felt for the pull-chain underneath the lamp shade, the black tassels tickling against your forearm. Finally your fingers grasped around the thin chain, gently yanking it and letting the light finally fill most of the room. The large leg lamp glowed on the small table tucked in the corner of your living room. A lovely gag gift you had been rewarded on christmas a year or two before at a friend’s party. While A Christmas Story was very much an overplayed movie on the holiday’s and certainly not your favorite, you still enjoyed the gift. Finding it pretty cool that someone had gone through the effort of getting something like this as the winner’s gift.

“Woah...” One of the boy’s muttered from behind your couch. You turned around and gave them a small smile, walking over to the other side of the living room to turn on the other lamp so the room was fully lit up and you weren’t going to trip over your own feet by accident.

“Pretty neat huh?” You asked, always finding people’s reactions to the infamous lamp rather funny.

They both looked at you simultaneously, their eyes sparkling in wonder.

“You’re so cool…” Ted whispered.

You let out a quiet laugh, trying to push down the heat that had suddenly started to rise up your neck, to your cheeks, and finally finishing at your ears. Never in your life did you think you could be receiving praise from Ted Theodore Logan himself. This really felt like it was too good to be true.

“Thanks.” You replied, turning your back to them so they didn’t catch on to your flustered state. “So, how about that hot chocolate?” You asked, walking over to the white cabinet that held your collection of mugs.

#bill bnt #ted bnt #bill and ted #bill s preston x reader #bill s preston imagine #bill s preston esquire #ted theodore logan x reader #ted theodore logan imagine #ted theodore logan #bnt imagine #bnt x reader #monster writes

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