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absolutelynotmate-archive · 1 year

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you gotta move, or move on- c.leclerc

love is so short, forgetting is so long pairing: charles leclerc x female reader word count: 5.5k warnings: angsty slay I'VE MOVED BLOGS! if you enjoy this and are looking for more, follow me @formulaforza

You were seventeen when your parents picked up your entire life and moved to the tiniest, most congested country they could have possibly chosen. You’d vacationed there, spent your summers there for years, and you’re the first to admit it’s beautiful. Paris is beautiful, too. Home is beautiful in a way Monte Carlo will never be because home belongs to you.

You’re a transplant in Monaco; a foreign organism who doesn't know the streets, the places, the people. You weren’t done with school, you had a whole year left. Why couldn’t your parents hold off for twelve months? Wait until you were in University and could stay where you belonged, let you choose your own path? You had to get familiar with a new city and a new school, new friends, new teachers.

That’s where you met him, sort of. Through school, not at school. He was friends with your friends, but you’d never seen him at school before. A driver, Formula 3, they told you. It meant nothing to you considering you’d never followed racing, and weren’t going to start now. He’s really good, you didn’t care, not really. You were with your new friends, and he was there, rarely, occasionally, always a big deal when he showed up.

Then, he was doing something else, somewhere else, and winning all of the time. He’s going to get promoted, everyone was always saying, always watching his races on their phones and on their laptops and on their televisions. You were riding along with your friends–his friends–to all of these European races. You’lldo anything for a vacation when you’re a teenager. You picked up on the obvious things pretty quickly, learned more about the intricate details in the grandstands; while you wouldn’t call yourself invested, you weren’t comatose while watching the races, either.

You think that’s what he liked about you, what sparked the interest in the first place. Half of the girls your age at home were throwing themselves at him, trying to land him before he made it big. That’s what they always tell you about athletes, you have to get in before they really make it or else you won’t ever mean anything to them, they want you to prove your loyalty to them. You think he saw you, all passive and unbothered by race results–good or bad–and it intrigued him. It’s the only plausible explanation in your head, because he had his pick of the litter and you’ve never considered yourself the smartest, the prettiest, the best at anything, really. He could have had the best, but he chose you.

It started off with these weird glances, ones where you’d catch each other’s eyes all of the fucking time. It was always so awkward, like you’d caught each other doing something wrong. Your eyes would dart away to another friend, to the sky, to your shoelaces, and your stomach would get all tangled in itself. You always felt like apologizing, like when two people are trying to move out of each other’s way and they both step to the same side; an awkward smile and a muted apology and then you think about it for the rest of the day because the whole thing was so mortifying.

Then it was conversations, ones you’d never had before and always about nothing important. The two of you were friend-adjacent, at best, but now you were always lingering at the back of the group. Ending up sitting in the restaurant booth for a beat longer than everyone else, waiting for the other to fill their plate before finding a place to sit. You’d talk about school, about your plans for the future, about missing Paris and he’d talk about racing, about his dreams, about missing Monaco. You live here, you’d always say to him.

Barely, he’d always reply, the better I get the less time I have.

At some point the group meetings became one-on-one. A restaurant you’d never heard of, one he swore had the best food in the entire world. A coffee shop you wanted to try, one he knew nothing about because he didn’t drink coffee. He didn’t tell you that until you were ordering and you felt foolish, but then he ordered a hot tea and you sat at a little table and talked some more about nothing. You took him to Paris once during Fashion Week, because you had a family friend who had a show. You showed him around and even though he’d been a million times, he let you because he liked the way you talked. Alwayssaid there was something sweet about your voice. Like candy, he said, after you pointed out the bus stop you sat at every day before school as a child, after you asked him why he was smiling like an idiot. That’s when you realized you had a crush on him– in Paris by the old bus stop.

“We’re not dating,” the two of you told friends for two months, even though the only thing that made the statement true was the lack of a label. You were doing everything people who date do. Suddenly, they were asking, and you were smiling and blushing and gushing all the details of just how he’d asked you to make it official.

You got into a fight in May, because he heard from one of your friends you were going to University in Monaco. It hurt that he heard it from someone that wasn’t you but it hurt more that you were staying. You haven’t shut up about going back to Paris since I met you, he said, over the phone because he was away at a race. Why aren’t you going to Paris? You felt like a Gilmore girl, a Jess and Rory original.

“You live here”, you said, like always.

“Barely,” he replied, like always.

That was precisely it, though. If he could barely make it back to his home, how could you ever expect him to have time to come see you in yours?

You ended up going back to Paris, reluctant that he’d be able to fulfill his promises to come see you. When you packed your boxes of things into the trunk of your car, part of you knew it was just the beginning of the end. The rest of you pretended it wasn’t, carried on with red eyes to Monaco and weekend studying done on trains following him around for two trips around the sun.

You’ve always prided yourself on being realistic, it’s what you thought helped draw him to you in the first place. But, you were coming to learn he needed optimism, the undying and unrelenting kind that you were never going to be capable of providing. You weren’t the kind of person that could watch him drive for shit and pretend he didn’t. You drove for shit, you would tell him, only if it was true and then he’d get all passive aggressive and close doors with more force than necessary and sigh dramatically every five minutes. You weren’t a villain about it, you were still his biggest cheerleader, next race you’ve got it, I know you’re better than this, but you were honest. You’d always be honest, and it was dragging him down.

He’d be better off, you thought, if he could have his choice again and find someone who was coded in a way that built him up instead of tearing him down. If you were smarter, prettier, better at all of it, you think you could be what he needs, that you’d be able to adapt and change the way you thought for him. You weren’t those things, though, you were just you.

So calls became short, time zones felt greater, and he never did come see you in Paris. You lost touch with your friends in Monaco, a year, unsurprisingly, does little to form life-long friendships. He kept in touch with them, was always so much better at relationships than you were. Charles would talk about them all of the time, about how much they were helping him, how good they could make him feel. It always made you sad, knowing you were never going to be enough.

I feel like I barely know you anymore, you said once, on the phone, in the middle of the night because it was the only time you got calls from him anymore. He’s in America, racing with Sauber now and you haven’t been to a single race outside of Monaco.

I can’t wait for your wedding, one of his friends, an old, once upon a time friend of yours said sometime that weekend. I bet he proposes, soon. You knew he wouldn’t, knew you were treading dangerously close to the extinction line. Your relationship was teetering on a cliff and waiting for a gust of wind, a breath of fresh air, a cold–hearted shove to push you over the edge and into a fiery explosion of doom, death, all other bad things. You dragged out the end of the call, worried the earlier admission would make it your last for a while. I wish you were here, you said and he didn’t reiterate the sentiment.

You never remembered Paris as being so cloudy, so chilled, so rainy. All of the colors felt gray and muted and you just wanted to be with him, wherever he was. The U.S, China, Monaco. He was everywhere but with you, and you were furious and depressed and bratty and selfish about it. Home is a person, as cheesy as it is true, you’d come to learn.

If you knew this is how it would have gone, you never would have conceded, you would have gone to school in Monaco and everything would be perfect. If you knew, you would have learned everything there was to know about Formula 3 all those years ago. You would have studied it like your life depended on it and would’ve become a fan girl and he never would have found you relevant or interesting and all of this could have been avoided. You didn’t do any of those things, though because you never could have known you were going to fall in love. Allgrandiose and emotional and comfortable. You never could have predicted you’d be counting sheep to spend time with him. You never could have known, never could have prepared.

You tried to fix it, you did. Some things just aren’t repairable. You called more often, you tried to get more time off work and blew all your money traveling. When you were together, it was so good. It was never hard to share space with him, to occupy the same air. That was the easiest part. That was why it was worth trying to fix, all the conversations about nothing and everything, about your dreams and his dreams, about the future neither of you fully believed you’d share. It was lovely in the chaos and it was pure in the silence.

We have to be at rock bottom, you told him, teary eyed on the sofa of a hotel suite on a Monday morning. You were packing your bags, you back to France, him to the next race. You just started crying, out of nowhere, while you were folding your underwear. He laughed at first, but you didn’t stop crying. The thought of going back to being apart was one you couldn’t grapple with, refused to come to terms with because it was so bad when you were away. A shredded heart apart, a mended wound together. The pain of it was becoming unbearable.

You moved back to Monaco. It felt like the only thing left to do, a last resort. All those times he told you he was barely there, he wasn’t lying. He was away from Monaco the same as he was away from Paris. “You love me,” you teased him over Facetime, cooking dinner, making horrible jokes, trying with all your might to make it all better.

“I love you,” he said, rehearsed and bored and unamused. Reminded, maybe, by your words that he was supposed to love you. Every word for the rest of the night feels like checking the expiration date on a bottle of something you don’t remember buying and can’t identify.

Winter break, he was back home for the holidays, to see his family, to see you. You didn’t want to do it then, but it felt like the only option. “I’ve had enough,” you said to him, among a million other things.

“I understand,” he told you, and you knew it was really over because he didn’t try to fight for you, to convince you otherwise. If he had tried, you would have let him, would have caved, you know it.

“We can still be friends,” you offered, a concession prize because being with him really was that great. It was all the complicated long-distance relationship dynamics that killed what you had, what you still have.

“I don’t want to be friends.”

You cried, he cried, and when you went to his apartment three days later to pack up the things you had there, you found a little velvet box on the top shelf of the closet. Curiosity killed the cat, and you opened it, instantly regretted it, memorized the diamond ring inside, closed it and returned it to it’s original spot and never told another person. You should have said no, but you would’ve said yes.

There won’t be too many drunk calls, you hoped, from either of you. A clean breakup. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he moved on, before you saw on social media that he was walking the paddock with a girl who could give him everything he needed, everything you couldn’t. You thought it would make you happy, to see him happy and fulfilled and with a partner that was better suited to him.

She looks just like you. Your sister texted you at the beginning of the next season. He was a hot shot now, the promised prince who would be bringing Ferrari to glory again. He was also walking through the paddock with another girl.

Il Predestinato, the predestined. You wondered if it held any truth. Wondering if the universe had it all planned out, if every single thing that has ever happened to him, including you, was all a part of some master plan. If it is, the universe is sick, you think.

He looks happy, good for him. You replied, cried for four hours, soaked shirt and sheets and pillowcase. You could have kept going if you had any tears left to give, but you used them all up scrolling through social media, doom spiraling until you found out who she was, found her twitter, found her Instagram, scrolled to the bottom of her tagged photos, learned the name of her sister and what color dress she’d worn in Italy with her teenage boyfriend. You needed to know all of it, because he was your teenage boyfriend before long before he ever belonged to her.

You never thought of Monaco as a small town, but, now that you’re expecting to find a ghost around every corner, to spot his car on every street, the fucking country has never felt smaller. You’re claustrophobic here, everything reminds you of him, his picture is everywhere. Formula One is everywhere. Your friends, the ones you’d reconnected with since moving back, they were his friends first.

They act like nothing’s changed, like they’ve chosen your side when they clearly haven’t. You wonder how long they all knew about his new girl, how long they’ve been together, how long it took him to move on. You expected it to be quick, but God, it’s barely been a few months and he’s already comfortable enough subjecting her to the media circus.

You try to go out, to drown your sorrows with the girls who aren’t really your friends. The nightlife is always bustling here, but every club feels empty without him there. Everyshot needs a partner and every fruity drink needs him stealing sips and refusing to admit he likes it. Your friends try to cheer you up, and guys try to hit on you, but you feel like a shell of a person. Justfloating around without purpose. Floating, waiting, hoping it’s all a nightmare.

You don’t run into him, thank God. You run into Pascale and Arthur, though, which is arguably so, so much worse. It’s just on the street, they’re heading to the grocery store, one of them tells you. You’re walking to nowhere, from nowhere. Pascale hugs you and you think you might burst into tears. We miss you, she says, and it fuels the jealous ball of guilt in your soul for another day.

I miss you guys, too, you said, and meant it. You wondered if any of them knew about the ring. Charles was never one to keep a secret, he was historically terrible at it, it was endearing. Arthur was almost hard to look at, the same eyes, the same voice. Identical laughs, all nervous and short, the same face, practically. “How’s Lorenzo?” You asked, because you couldn’t ask about Charles.

You walked home, passed his building and wished you were dead so any trace of your relationship could be buried with you. You tried to pretend you didn’t know the cracks on the sidewalk, that you didn’t have each and every one memorized from walking the same steps so many times.

Home is just as haunting as the streets are. He’d helped you pick out the apartment, went to look at this one with you and said he’d never forgive you if you didn’t lock it in. You ate pizza on the living room floor, before you had any furniture at all, before you even had an internet connection. Sauce dripped from your slice onto the floor and he hurriedly grabbed a napkin to wipe it off the wood floors. You can’t afford to lose your deposit, idiot, he told you, smiled like a goofball and wiped the sauce on your face.

The whole place sings of him, the walls have heard his favorite songs played over, and over, and over again. He picked that paint color, helped you put it on the wall and raced to see who could finish their side first. You deleted his playlist from your phone, along with all the pictures and the videos, but the memories still linger, stunt your healing and stick into your life like a stubborn splinter.

You buy out your lease the next week, move back to Paris and stay with a friend until you can get a place of your own. It’s good for you, the best, being away from a place that was never really yours. It allows you to pick up the pieces and move forward, to not spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been, what might have fixed things.

Paris gives you clarity, makes it impossible to be angry at him because it wasn’t anyone’s fault. There’s nothing anyone could have done, the universe itself never would have been able to intervene. It was just young love, all poetic and film-inspiring and heartbreak song-inducing. Innocent and infuriating and codependent and convoluted. Your first heartbreak, the first real, gut-wrenching experience with losing a love, it’s always like this. The movies and the songs proved that. You just didn’t experience that loss until you were in your early twenties. Distance allows you to recognize that. Having the same aching pain settled so deep in your chest would have been unbearable if you were any younger. You were lucky, as sick and twisted as it felt.

He swears to God he saw you during the podium in Monza. A flash of your hair, your eyes, he blinks and it’s gone, you’re gone. A figment of his imagination, he tries to convince himself he’s seeing things in the chaos of winning Ferrari’s home race, but, he can’t shake it, the feeling that you’re here.

You’d come to a race at Monza, a million years ago, 2016. It was a sprint race and he retired. It’s okay, all of his friends told him. All of them except you. You didn’t say anything, just smiled and gave him the same awkward hug you always did. “What did you think about the race?” He asked you.

“It was whatever.” You’d shrugged. “Shit for you, I suppose.” It was right there. That’s the moment he pinpointed, the exact second he decided he wanted to know you better, that he needed to prove himself to you, show you just how interesting his life could be. He always figured he would tell your kids the story one day, that he’d mention it in his wedding vows and get a spattering of laughs from the guests.

That was the last time you were in Monza together. That’s why he was seeing you in the crowd, he was projecting, surely. He asks his brother, his mother, if they saw you. They give him strange looks and ask him if he’s okay because, why would you be here?

You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t be here, he keeps telling himself. He half expects to find you in his drivers room, or lingering by the coffee machine in hospitality. You’ve never even been inside the Ferrari motorhomes, but, he thinks you’d look so familiar in there, like he wouldn’t bat an eye seeing you.

His mind races, and he feels like a teenager again. Like no time at all has passed and you and he are painfully in love and it’s stupid and young and lovely. “What’s going on in your head?” His girlfriend asks him, playing with his hair like you used to.

“Nobody.” He says, slips up unconsciously, because he doesn’t want to start an argument.

“Nobody?” She says, that incessant whine in her voice that drives him up a wall. He sighs, because she’s gearing up for a fight. He wonders if it’s too late to crash his car into the barrier, pull a few dozen G’s and have an excuse for perfectly teeing her up.

He runs into you at a Christmas party that winter. It’s the anniversary of the end of you two and he wonders if you remember as vividly as he does. One year without each other, a date he never thought he’d remember. A date he never thought would come.

You’ve got a guy with you, who just told the worst joke he’s heard in a while. You laugh, because you’re sweet, but he knows you don’t think it’s funny–knows your laugh too well, worked hard to hear it for too many years.

He watches the two of you, studies you, wonders if he looks as foolish with his new girlfriend as you look with your new boyfriend. It’s painfully obvious, he thinks, how unhappy you are, how ungenuine you appear. That’s not your smile, not your drink, not your favorite pair of heels.

“Hi,” he says when he finds you in the kitchen of the house party, alone. “It’s good to see you,” A lie. He’d almost turned around and walked right back out the door when he saw you. You, with someone who wasn’t him.

“Yeah, you too,” you said, also a lie. He knows you, whether you like it or not.

“So, new guy, huh?” Awkward. So fucking awkward. You nod. “Nice.” He sips his drink.

“Are you seeing anyone?” You asked, and he thought there was no way you didn’t know. No way you’d gone unalerted to your doppelganger walking the grid. Surely, someone told you. Your sister, likely, maybe a friend.

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck because his hands don’t feel like they belong to him. He doesn’t know where to put them. “Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah.” She’s nothing like you, he wants to say. Wonders if it would do more harm or good, if you’d read his words as an admission that you are irreplaceable or if you’d see them as an insult.

“Great.” You say, smile, and it might be genuine. He’s startled that he can’t read it precisely, forced to confront the notion that he doesn’t know you like he once did. Beat after beat of silence, tense and awkward and strange. He was more comfortable when you were breaking up with him than he is right now. “Do you hate me?” You finally spoke, and his heart broke a little. It broke a lot, but, your heart isn’t his to break anymore. That’s what he keeps telling himself, anyway.

It hurts to say your name, the air rips its way out of his lungs and through his vocal cords and gets caught in the back of his throat, again on the tip of his tongue. “I could never hate you.” He wishes he could. He’s tried, time and time again to hate you, to loathe you for existing. You tore him into a million tiny pieces and sprinkled them in every corner of the earth, hid them in the deepest nooks and the tightest crannies. Destroyed some, just for the hell of it. Then, you sent him on his way, handed him a bottle of glue, a good luck in the form of we can still be friends and expected him to be fine.

He knew–was able to recognize now–that he was far from perfect. Far, far from it. He was distant and pushed you away and was a complete ass, but fuck, he loved you more than he knew. You hurt him more than anyone would ever know.

There are few things as sobering as returning an engagement ring to the jeweler. It’s a sympathetic look he’ll never forget, and even then he knew he couldn’t blame you, that the blame lied solely on him for fucking it all up. His mom cried when he told her, called him an idiot in three languages, told him he needed to fix it, that you were worth it. I know, Mama, he told her, I know, but I can’t fix this.

He broke up with your twin a few weeks later because no matter how hard he tried, there was no replicating you. He wondered how long it would be before word got to you, if you’d even care when it did.

He hated being home, now. Monaco was a nightmare, you were all over his place, all over the most important years of his life. Your smell could be erased from the sheets with a few washes, but the grease stain you left on the corner of the couch? The one you cried about and apolgized for everytime you saw it? There’s no getting rid of it.

He cleaned out his closet a couple weeks ago, after all these years. Your name was written in pink marker on the wall, behind a bunch of shoe boxes. You were here, 2017, it read, and he spent thirty minutes going over it with a Magic Eraser only for it to be just as vibrant as before.

There was one time, before he broke up with his girlfriend, where he caught himself just before saying your name into her shoulder. The first syllable slipped and he had to pretend it was a nonsensical shuddered breath. He’s fallen into more of a monthly rotation since then, keeps them around until it becomes glaringly apparent they’ll never fill the shoes you left behind. Flavors of the month. It works well enough, distracts him well enough.

The more removed he becomes from you, the cloudier the memories become. Clarity, people tell him he needs it, but, the haze distracts him just the same. He can forget you for a while, live his life without looking for you in everyone who tries to buy him a drink. Distractions come in the form of driving, of friends, of family. In the form of a girl who looks nothing like you, who speaks nothing like you, who acts nothing like you. It won’t last, he knows it won’t but he can’t find you anywhere in her and it’s refreshing.

This is so weird, I totally get if you say no, she texted him late one night. But, do you want to go to a wedding with me in a couple weeks? He should say no, he thinks. Committing to a wedding in a couple weeks is committing to being interested in a couple weeks and he can’t guarantee that. It’s commitment he can’t make and that’s if you disregard all the implications of going with someone to a wedding. It’s like the first rule of dating, you don’t go to a wedding together if you don’t see things lasting.

It’s too romantic, there’s too much love flying around. He’ll be catching side eyes all night from her, longing glances that make everything weird. The bouquet toss will be taken just a little too seriously for two people who are casually dating.

It’s too weird, right? She says after a few long minutes of radio silence.

No, not weird. He replies. Sounds like a good time.

That’s how he ends up there, believe it or not. The sickest fucking coincidence in the world, he thinks, standing in front of this intricate sign. It bore your name, your fiance’s name, written in delicate script.

There’s no way, he thinks. There is no fucking way. “How do you know them, again?” He asks the girl on his arm.

“My mom is friends with the Groom’s mom. We grew up together.” She says, smiley and lovely and perfectly dressed. There is no fucking way this is his reality. He has to be dreaming, stuck in a nightmare, surely. Even the universe isn’t this fucked up.

This isn’t the wedding you always talked about wanting, the one you daydreamed about when you were feeling particularly in love. It’s not the one he planned on giving you. There’s so many people here, it’s not like you. I want something intimate, you told him once. I want to love everyone there. You never would have had a family friend’s plus-one in attendance.

“Hey,” She says, flashes him a flask in her purse. “You wanna do a shot?”

God, you have no idea. “Yeah.”

You’ll cry when you see me, you told him. If you don’t, I’ll turn around and do it again. He thinks about that when you’re standing with your dad at the top of the aisle, beaming, glowing. Your dress is the most you thing he’s ever seen–fits you right in every spot, classy and spunky and traditional and fun all at the same time. He looks to the end of the long aisle, to your groom. He’s smiling, has his hands crossed behind his back and laughs, no tears.

He tries not to stare, because he doesn’t want to catch your eye, to catch your father’s eye, but it’s so hard when you look like that. “She looks so beautiful,” His date leans into him and whispers, doesn’t look at him. A good thing she doesn’t, too, because his eyes are bloodshot.

“Yeah,” He says, blinks away a tear.

You’re giddy at the reception. The bar serves two cocktails–his and hers mixed drinks. His date drinks yours, and he steals a sip and it’s fruity and sweet. “Can I have another shot?” He asks, and she subtly slides her flask to him under the table.

His eyes can’t stop finding you, watching you all dopey and smiley while you hug everyone and talk with grand expressions. You’re making the rounds, and he slips away before you and your new husband make it to his table.

Your sister catches him by the bathrooms. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He says, chuckles at his shit luck because there’s nothing else he can do.

“No, Charles.” She says it firmer this time, like he’s in trouble, which–understandable. “Why are you, here?”

“My, uh.” He twists the ring on his pinky. “The girl I’m seeing, I’m her plus-one.”

She looks nervous, your sister, like she’s fraternizing with the enemy and at any given moment someone is going to catch her and take her head. “Has she seen you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can’t be here.” She’s practically whispering, grabbing his arm and pulling him behind a corner.

“You’re telling me.” He laughs, because he’s about to cry at the wedding of the girl he thought he was going to marry. He’s going to cry at your wedding, just like you always said he would.

“I mean it. You need to leave.”

He cocks his head, she’s not serious. She’s just being a good sister. “Come on, don’t you–”

“Charles.” She says it soft, cracked and sad. There is so much unsaid. “Leave.”

He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this one away, but, he has the walk from the bathrooms to the reception hall to figure it out. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

And he does–go. He goes, and wonders for the rest of his life what would’ve happened if he stayed.

#f1 #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #f1 2022 #f1 fanfiction #f1 2023 #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x reader #ferrari

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notjuststardust · 25 days

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"Rat!" Shoyo Hinata (pre-timeskip)x Childhood Neighbor Reader

A fluffy (and slightly angsty) fic where the reader employs Hinata's little sister (and her pet rat) as a distraction to avoid embarrassing herself in front of Hinata and his friends. Keep in mind, Hinata and Reader and MINORS so their reactions and thought processes might be less mature than if I wrote this when they were older!

Well, Hinata had found his people and you your isolation. You were happy for him, exuberant even. You remembered the days in middle school where he would settle for your company just to get a hit of volleyball even if it was a short drag after you’d both done your schoolwork. Now, those days were long behind you and Hinata hadn’t looked back, hadn’t considered that you were still there. Watching like a jailbird through a window as he had his volleyball friends over for some weekend practice.

To be frank, you could have just gone outside to meet them and force yourself into the fray but you knew teenage boys and how their perception could be… skewed. You didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea by associating yourself with him. God forbid the decoy hate you for simply trying to be included.

You couldn’t stand the idea of embarrassing him.

However there was one quite considerable problem in your wake. You’d procrastinated on all your outdoor chores and it was nearing dark. If you didn’t get them done by sunset your mother would surely ground you.

There was also the issue that it was a Saturday and all of your outfits for next week were in the wash. This left you in something less than flattering, some hand me down sweats from a cousin and a t-shirt that said ‘Virginity rocks’ on it.

Hinata had seen you in worse but his teammates seemed a bit… terrifying.

The thought of them commenting on your attire while you were busy watering the garden was less than ideal. So you improvised. With about 2 hours left of daylight you scrambled to your house phone, dialing the Hinata residence. It rang once, then twice. Another for good measure and Natsu picks up.

“(Y/N) will you come play with me-”

“If you do me this one favor I’ll come over tomorrow, but not today.” As always, the 8 year old takes this information in stride. You can practically hear her grinning through the phone.

“What’s my mission?”

—

You didn’t think Natsu couldn’t pull it off but you sure were surprised how fast she had. The boys had run inside like there was some sort of monster lurking out in Hinata’s backyard and you had taken the chance to start running through your chores. Water the flowers first. Which you do and somehow inconveniently spray yourself in the face trying to turn the faucet off. Then you sweep the back porch until the only dust that touches it is glued to toe bottom of your crocs. That alone takes you 15 minutes.

Natsu had promised you 30.

With one chore left to spare you wipe the sweat of your brow perfusing from the pure idea of the adrenaline of embarrassment you had conquered and take to the recycling bin. You just had to sort a couple things and then-

“I hear it!” You freeze and drop everything, literally. Recyclables clunk to the floor. Your feet move for you. The trumpet of hounding teenage boys not far behind the corner. Whispering a platoon of words you’d get grounded for saying without a doubt, the adrenaline possesses you in some sort of athletic prowess you’d only seen from olympians, leaping head first over the gates of your front porch for the door.

That would have worked if you didn’t crash land into someone on the way.

“Oh, (Y/N). I was just knocking for you!” Hinata grins from ear to ear as if you aren’t caging him to the floor from above. You scramble to your feet and he’s tugging your wrist like a nagging puppy staring at you with big curious eyes. “Hey, you look pale. Everything alright?”

“NO!” You squawk, pulling your hand to your chest only to look up to an audience. This could seriously not get any worse.

“Hey, nice shirt! I’ve got the pink one!” The bald one pipes before getting jolted in the gut by the boy with silver curls.

“Not the time Tanaka.” He grumbles afterward, clearing his throat and straightening up like he’s some proper gentlemen and wasn’t just leading some manhunt for you. “Ms. (L/N), have you seen a rat around? We were supposed to trap it but unfortunately it got away-”

“A rabid rat.” Kageyama (the only one you had known the proper name of) corrects but unlike the pictures he’s covered in some beige powdery substance. You can’t hide your look of befuddlement.

“For the last time, it's not rabid if it didn’t bite you when you grabbed it by the tail.” The scariest one of them all trods over with a juice box in hand. Somehow that single statement is enough to send the entire group of boys into sheer screaming chaos. Not even Hinata can convince them to stop fighting. Its absolute discord. That's when you yourself lose it. You laugh so hard you fall clean off Hinata, clutching your stomach as if your appendix needs removing.

That brings the majority of the squabble to a halt.

“Wait, did Natsu tell you guys there was a rabid rat in the house?” Hinata cocks his head and nods at you.

“Yeah, it broke into the pantry and ripped open the flour. There's a mess everywhere!” So Natsu had really planted an entire scene just to get you 30 minutes of freedom outside. The thought sounded ridiculous but even Hinata had confirmed that there had been a real rat. Where had she even found that thing?

“Wait,” you say after Hinata’s explanation, wiping your eyes from the amused tears. “Why were you knocking for me then?”

“I figured it would come back out if you came over, animals like you.” He shrugs as if he'd talking about the weather, dusting himself off as he stands back up. He holds out a hand which you take but not before a very befuddled Natsu comes running over. She’s bathed in flour.

“I-I’m sorry. Henry was supposed to stay in the house! I didn’t mean for Shoyo’s friends to escape and see you!” The poor little girl is nearly in tears. “I know it was only 15 minutes but please come over and play with me tomorrow, Shoyo’s always busy with volleyball and doesn’t have time for me anymore!” She bursts into tears, crashing into your chest and hanging on to you like her life depends on it.

“It’s okay Natsu. A promise is a promise. I’ll come over and we can clean up and bake cookies, yeah?” You murmur, sympathy making your heart ache as hands stroke her hair. Hinata shoes his teammates and crouches down beside you both.

“Natsu, I didn’t know you felt that way. Why-” Hinata freezes when he sees a tear free falling your own face. You shrug it away in hopes he’ll consider it a fluke. Natsu pulls away and snorts back the wad of snot dripping from her nose.

“Well, you never asked and it seemed rude to steal your thunder now that you’ve got your team and all. Right (Y/N)?” The siblings both share stares with you, expectant. You hesitate and Hinata flinches as if he’s been shot.

“Yeah..” It was odd how an 8 year old was better at advocating for herself emotionally then you. He swallows and breaks eye contact to look to Natsu with a gentle smile, explaining to her that she should have told him earlier and promising that he would help find Henry the rat before sundown. Natsu, satisfied now, trots home.

You know its coming but it doesn’t stop you from trying to delay it, from trying to flee before confrontation beats with its brutal awkwardness. “Night.”

“Wait,” You freeze at the conflict in his voice, the tightness in his throat. “Do you feel like I love volleyball more than you?” Hinata has never been this serious in the 16 years you’ve known him, not once but you can tell he’s not going to let you walk away.

“That's an… extreme way of putting it.” You answer slowly, eyes downcast. You hear him start to pace, fingers running through his hair on compulsory as he tries to shake some idea from his head.

“You do,” he sounds like a washed up record, playing despite the fact it sounds absolutely wretched. “You feel that way and you didn't tell me?” He sounds almost angry now but you know better. This isn’t anger, it's his bitter cousin. Betrayal.

“When was I supposed to Hinata-” he looks like hes going to cry, no, he is already crying. “Hinata what-”

“Shoyo. I’m still Shoyo,” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes like a little kid. “Do you hate me now? Is that why you hired my little sister to distract me so I wouldn’t see you?”

“No, no-” you gentle, helping him wipe his tears. “That's not it. Not at all I just thought you’d be embarrassed of me and I had to do chores-”

“Embarrassed?” He stops crying instantly. “Why would I be embarrassed of you? You’re my friend, I love you.” He says with conviction. He rethinks his words when you just stare at him, pink coating his cheeks. “Not like that!”

“No, no I know!” You mirror his fluster, looking away before you start bawling. “I guess it was stupid of me to think that.” You mutter, sniffling with a small giggle. That makes Hinata soften up.

“Heck yeah it was!” He hums, stepping closer to ruffle your hair. “I’m glad the guys got to meet you. They’ve been asking for a while.” Hinata murmurs, a sheepish grin on his face that quickly morphs to horror when he catches the tears lidding your eyes. “Hey, hey! If you start crying i’ll start crying to and then-” your hands wrapping around his waist is enough to shut him up. You hug him despite his friends watching from the kitchen window and the water still wetting the top of your shirt. You hold the embrace in spite of the voices telling you not to and oblige the quiet ones pleading for a crumb of reciprocation from the ginger.

For a minute all is quiet.

“Shoyo.” He mumbles dangerously close to your ear. You go to say his last name one last time just to mess with him and he pokes your belly button.

“Shoyo!” You shriek on instinct and he bursts out laughing.

“Thats better!” He chirps before looking at your pantleg. You’d been so distracted by your emotions you hadn’t felt the weight climbing up your pantleg. Hinata turns on his heel and darts for his house. “Natsu! We found Henry!”

#hinata shoyo x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata shouyou #hinata shouyo #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader

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bitchin-beskar · 1 year

Text

Interrupted

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: College!Athlete!Roommate!Paz Vizsla x Fem!Reader (Bunny)

Warnings: Whoo boy there’s a few. SMUT. I feel like I shouldn’t have to say that, but this is basically ALL smut. Free use agreement, and talk relating to that. [BC THIS IS FREE USE, EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS BETWEEN PAZ AND READER IS CONSENSUAL. THERE IS NO NON-CON HERE]. Choking, biting, dirty talk, fingering, some rather rough fucking, creampie, slight dumbification (affectionate) (ex: being fucked stupid), mostly clothed sex, reader is called “good girl”, praise kink, aftercare, post-sex cuddles. Mixture of fluff and smut, but some parts of this got kinda yearning/angsty, so I do apologize. Semi-bittersweet/yearning ending. Idk if I got it all, but that’s the gist.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: So this started as a tiny idea that grew and grew and grew until it proceeded to consume my every waking thought for the past week. (This is all thanks to @maybege, @tailorvizsla, @catsnkooks, and literally anyone else who reblogged/voted/sent in ideas or thots. This is all their fault.)

Mainly, this is a modern day AU in which Paz is a college athlete and your best friend/roommate who you enter into a free use agreement with. (FUN SIDE NOTE: IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT FREE USE MEANS YOU’RE TOO YOUNG TO BE READING THIS. GO AWAY.)

This was originally intended to be a oneshot. I am now currently plotting a series, so this idea will not be going away any time soon. Please feel free to come yell at me in my dm’s or inbox about this! I welcome the thots!

I hope you enjoy! Please lemme know what you think, I’d really appreciate it!

Paz had to fight back a groan at the sight of you, standing there in the kitchen as you worked on finishing the dishes from making dinner that night. You’d prepared some kind of casserole, which was currently baking in the oven, and you stood at the sink with the water running as you washed the pots you’d used to prepare the ingredients.

The whole apartment smelt incredible, but that wasn’t the only thing making Paz’s mouth water. You were dressed in what had to be one of his old training shirts, considering how it hung on your frame. The neckline was slipping off one shoulder, the sleeves came almost to your elbows, and the hem of the shirt brushed against your thighs, hiding the swell of your ass. He couldn’t tell if you were wearing shorts underneath the shirt or not.

Fuck, he hoped you weren’t.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, but that was about to change. He didn’t bother waiting for you to finish, he didn’t have the patience for that. He’d dropped his hockey bag and gear in the foyer and toed off his shoes and socks, so it was on bare feet that he padded silently across the tile floor of the kitchen to press the length of his body against your back, his large hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you back against him.

You started violently, dropping the pan you’d been washing back into the soapy water with a shriek, and he couldn’t help but lean down to bury his chuckle into the curve of your neck. Your hands reached out to shut off the water and you hmph’d loudly, even as you sank back into his embrace.

“Gods, Paz, you couldn’t give me some warning?” You bemoaned, your tone one of tired exasperation, likely from the fact that this was an argument you had almost every day–sometimes even multiple times a day. “Bells. I’m gonna put bells on you, I swear.”

Paz smirked, baring his teeth, and nipping playfully at the sensitive skin on your neck as his hands began to roam, enjoying the way you squirmed in his grasp. It was damn near impossible for you to stay mad at him, and he took advantage all the time, like the asshole he was.

“Where’s the fun in that, bunny?”

You sighed in a way that told Paz you were rolling your eyes, although your sigh kicked up in pitch as one of his hands snuck under the fabric of his shirt to cup your tits, revealing that you were indeed not wearing shorts. His other hand splayed across your belly, palm huge and warm as he pressed your hips roughly back against his. He watched over your shoulder as your soapy, wet fingers curled around the edges of the sink, clearly trying to ground yourself in some way.

His fingers began to pinch at your nipples, switching back and forth so neither was left unattended, the soft breathy sounds escaping you were like a symphony to his ears. You always vocalized so beautifully when he played with the sensitive parts of your body. It had almost become a game to him, to see how many different sounds he could wring from you in one go.

“Paz–” you said, warning clear in your voice, even as he rolled your nipple between two huge fingers. “Paz, we don’t have time–” your voice cut off with a squeak as he nipped harshly at your neck in remonstration.

“What’s the rule, bunny?”

Paz’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest, and you felt it vibrate through your body as well, and you closed your eyes, perhaps in an attempt to block him out. But you and he both knew just how impossible that was. All you could sense was Paz.

And he knew it. Bastard.

“C’mon, bunny rabbit. What’s our rule? I know you know what it is.”

The hand on your belly had begun to creep downwards, and his fingers were now toying with the elastic on the waistband of your panties. He was absolutely right, as usual. You knew damn well what the rule was, as it was something the two of you had agreed on shortly after beginning your stint as roommates. The whole situation was convoluted as hell, but in the end, it had come down to you not having a way to pay rent in a traditional manner, and Paz’s joking offer had turned to something more serious.

“Paz,” you whined, not sure what exactly you were asking him for. You knew you should be asking him to stop teasing you when dinner was about to be ready, but your body wanted what Paz was promising.

Paz’s hand finally stopped torturing your breast, only to pull out completely from under the shirt and come up to wrap around your throat, his hand so large his fingers easily reached the sides of your neck. He forced your head back, his grip tightening just enough to restrict airflow, but not enough to hurt you, only to prevent you from taking in a full breath. It made your legs go weak. He pressed his lips against your ear, whispering his next words.

“The rule, bunny. Now.”

Your own hands came up to grasp his wrist and forearm, although you made no moves to remove his hand from around your throat. It took you multiple tries to get the words out, but eventually you managed.

“Th-That I let you do whatever you want, when-whenever you want.”

You could feel his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your ear as his fingers tightened just a little bit more and his other hand finally crept past the fabric of your panties to cup your pussy, his middle finger easily slipping between your folds.

“Good girl.”

You keen loudly as he strokes through your folds, the rough calluses on his hands providing a delicious friction. You were gasping for air as he held you, even as you did your best to try and grind down on his hand between your legs. He kept his tight grip on your neck until you started to see black spots at the edges of your vision, when he abruptly let go. Then, two things happened simultaneously.

First, you sucked in a deep breath, the feeling of your lungs filling with air after being restricted to only shallow breaths euphoric and almost orgasmic in of itself.

Second, you realized his grip on your neck had also been partially holding you up, and without that safety net, you slumped against him, which only pressed your cunt harder against his fingers, sending sparks of sensation shooting up your spine and causing you to cry out in shock and arousal.

Paz lazily slid two of his fingers into your cunt, slowly pumping them in and out as he ground the heel of his hand against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and your hands flew to the counter to scrabble for something to ground you, fingers tightening almost painfully on the edges of the sink basin once more. It never mattered how much the two of you did this, it always felt like the first time.

“Are you gonna keep being a good girl for me, bunny? Gonna let me fuck this pretty ‘lil pussy?”

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, worrying the flesh as you tried to hold back a moan. Paz had discovered how much you loved dirty talk–specifically his dirty talk, and who could blame you, the man had a voice made of sin–and you hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Paz nipped at your ear, mostly to bring your focus back to him. “What happened, bunny? Aren’t there any words inside that pretty head of yours? Or am I just being too distracting?” As his voice dropped lower, Paz cupped your tits again, this time over his shirt which added an extra level of friction as he tugged at your nipples. The air whooshed out of your lungs, and you gasped desperately for more as you tried to form a reply that wasn’t just begging him to get on with it and fuck you already.

“Hmm, I guess I don’t really need your permission, do I?” His hand withdrew from your panties, making you let out an involuntary whimper at the loss, your pussy clenching around nothing. You hated the feeling of emptiness now, especially when you knew what it felt like to have him inside you. “After all, you’ll let me do whatever I want, whenever I want. Isn’t that right, bunny?”

Gods, you really should answer him, but you couldn’t seem to make your mouth work. Luckily, Paz wasn’t waiting for an answer, or permission. He stepped back a half step, just enough for him to have enough room to pull his cock free from his pants. He didn’t bother undressing either of you, clearly not patient enough to wait. He simply yanked the fabric of the shirt you were wearing up over your ass and jerked your panties part way down your thighs. With one hand on his cock, he placed the other in the center of your back and bent you over the kitchen sink, groaning as he watched you subconsciously present for him, spreading your legs slightly.

You gasp softly as you feel the head of his cock nudge gently against your slit, swallowing harshly as you feel Paz just stroke your folds with his cock, coating the head in the slick wetness that had begun to pool there. He teased you by slowly beginning to press against your opening, only to back away at the last second.

It felt so good, but it also wasn’t enough. You knew it, and he knew it. Finally, he notched the head of his cock at your entrance, and with just a little bit of pressure, the head of his cock popped in your cunt, and he began to sink into the waiting warmth.

Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as he began to stretch you with his dick. Paz wasn’t a small man by any estimation, a fact which applied to all of him, as you’d learned when you started this little agreement. No matter how much he used your body, how much he fucked you, it was still a stretch to take him every time. You were always so tight around him, something he loved to praise you for.

“Shit, bunny.” You shuddered at the wrecked sound of his voice. “Shit, shit, shit, you always take me so fucking good.” His hand left the small of your back to grasp at your hip, helping to rock you back so he could sink further into you. His fingers spread wide over your hips and gripped tight, easily controlling the pace as he forced you to take inch after inch. You could feel your legs beginning shake and you were suddenly grateful for the extra support of the kitchen sink, because without it you’d surely be collapsing into a puddle on the tile floor.

After what felt like forever, you finally felt Paz’s hips press flush against your ass as he bottomed out inside your cunt. He held himself still for a moment, his thumb idly brushing against your side as you once more adjusted to the feeling of being stretched and filled. You’d never tell him, but a part of you always ached whenever he wasn’t stuffed as deep inside you as he could get. He’d only tease you, and you’d much rather he spent the time fucking you, especially since you knew one day, you’d have to let this agreement go.

Just as you were becoming adjusted to the sensation of being filled to the brim, and your fingers were starting to uncurl from their death grip on the sink, Paz decided that was the perfect time to move. He pulled his hips back, not enough to leave the warmth of your pussy, but enough that when he thrust back in, his hips slammed against your ass, pushing you up on your tiptoes as he shoved you further into the counter with the force of his thrust. The action punched a choked gasp out of your throat, which only seemed to spur him on as he began to fuck you in earnest.

He never pulled all the way out, preferring to only withdraw part way before burying himself back in your cunt, and the effect of the short, sharp thrusts was devastating. It felt like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs, every new breath punched out of you by the force of his hips colliding with your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, and you felt tears begin to well up in the corner of your eyes as he fucked you like he’d never get the chance again.

He felt so big from this angle, impossibly so. It felt like he was in your throat he filled you so good. It made sense that his favorite position was bending you over random pieces of furniture or planting you on your hands and knees on the bed.

“That’s it,” he grunted, his voice deep and gruff and sending shivers down your spine. “Just take it, bunny. Take it.” You wanted to respond, whether with some smartass comment or a plea for more you weren’t sure since your brain had begun to melt, but you didn’t have enough air in your lungs to form anything other than whimpers and moans.

Those whimpers and moans just about turned to screams when Paz seemingly decided that the leverage he already had wasn’t quite enough, and released your hip with one of his hands, only to reach out and grasp your shoulder, using his new grip on your body to pull you back even harder onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. With this new leverage and the slight change in angle, he began to pummel upon that spot deep inside you that made you see stars, and your eyes began to roll back in your head.

Suddenly, a loud beeping filled the kitchen, and it took you longer than it should to realize the timer was finished on the oven, and that it was time to take the casserole out. It took even longer for your tongue to try and form the words to tell him.

“P-P-Paz,” you stuttered, voice breaking in time with his thrusts. “T-T-The f-f-food!”

His dark chuckle seemed to fill the room, and he somehow, impossibly, picked up the pace, punching little “uh, uh, uh’s” out of your throat with rough thrusts. You were honestly worried about the kitchen sink breaking underneath your grasp.

“I don’t think so, bunny. I’m not finished yet, and neither are you for that matter.” You let out a weak little moan at his words, not quite processing exactly what he was saying, but knowing somehow that he was going to explain it anyways. “Tell you what. If you can tell me the name of the dish you made, I’ll stop and let you take it out of the oven. What do you think bunny? Does that sound fair?” His voice had taken on a kind of condescending tone, and had you had your wits about you, you probably would’ve smacked him for it. As it was, you could barely register the tone, much less the words.

“Well? Do you have an answer, bunny?”

He suddenly stopped thrusting, letting go of your shoulder in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright so that your back was pressed tight against his chest. His nose brushed against the side of your head as he whispered in your ear.

“What’s the name, bunny? Just gotta answer me, that’s all you’ve gotta do.”

Fuck, you had no idea what he was asking you. While he’d stopped thrusting, he was instead choosing to grind his hips into yours, ensuring that you felt every ridge and vein of his cock brushing up against your walls, making your muscles clench and your thighs tremble. There was only one name that was in your mind and making its way past your lips with the state you were in.

“P-Paz?” You muttered, voice quiet and more than a little dazed. He smiled, you could feel it against your neck where he’d begun to place kisses, but it wasn’t a cocky smile like you’d seen him give to fangirls on campus or the news reporters who came to comment on his games and interview the players. No, this was his smile that was just for you, the smile that you saw when he stumbled out of bed in the mornings sore from practice the previous day to see that you’d made him breakfast, or when he came home in a snit, and you didn’t do anything except open your arms to offer a hug. It made a fire burn low in your belly, made you feel as though you’d done something right, something to be proud of, that maybe you were worthy of love and praise.

“That’s it, bunny. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” As he began to thrust again, although at a more sedate pace than before, his free hand left your hip to creep down to your pussy, feeling the way you stretched obscenely around him, his fingers brushing along your sensitive folds, before playing with your swollen clit. “That’s my good girl.”

You preened at his words, and you finally let go of the sink with one hand, to reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair as he continued to lavish kisses on your neck. You desperately wanted to pull his lips to yours, to remind yourself of what he tasted like, but the small part of your brain that wasn’t hazy with pleasure cruelly reminded you that kisses weren’t part of the agreement. Paz was free to do whatever he liked to your body, but kissing wasn’t on the table. It had been your choice, your decision, to try and prevent your heart from fracturing more than it already had. Of course, it probably didn’t matter in the end. You were already in far too deep. You could only hope that when he inevitably found out, he’d throw you a life raft instead of leaving you to drown.

Your attention was quickly brought back to the here and the now as Paz began to circle your clit roughly with his fingers, his hips snapping against yours a little more urgently than before. You realized with a start just how close you were, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up, the way your belly began to tighten, and your thighs began to shake even harder. Paz was clearly close too if his accelerated breathing was any indicator.

“Are you gonna let me come in this pretty ‘lil pussy, bunny?” He breathed in your ear, the cockiness in his voice just barely covering up the begging in his words. “Gonna let me fill you up like a good girl? Like you deserve?”

Oh, that sounded so good. It was something you and Paz had talked rather seriously about at the start of all this. He’d never made it a secret that he didn’t really enjoy condoms, but he also said they were non-negotiable in all of his relationships, until this whole agreement with you. He’d said it was a mix of trying to prevent pregnancy and avoid STDs, but when the two of you had actually sat down to discuss what all your little roommate agreement would entail, and you’d offered to go on birth control so he could forgo the condoms, he’d been struck dumb for a good minute. You both had gotten tested and had decided to regularly get tested even though you weren’t planning on sleeping with other people at the moment, and the new implant on the market boasted a 100% pregnancy prevention rate since its debut a few years earlier. So, condoms had been nonexistent during your agreement, which had led to the discovery of Paz’s… fixation.

He loved coming inside you. You were pretty sure it was his favorite part of the whole agreement. You knew he wanted kids one day, and you figured the idea of him coming inside you fed into that desire of his. It wasn’t hurting anything, so you’d never discouraged it. In fact, you also enjoyed it a surprising amount, far more than you’d ever expected. With your ex, Parjai, the idea of him fucking you without a condom had always made you squirm, but never with Paz.

You weren’t examining why that was too closely. Nope. Not at all.

A particularly harsh snap of Paz’s hips brought you out of your head and back into the moment. You realized he was waiting for you to answer him, and you nodded your head, not trusting your voice not to break if you tried to answer him verbally.

Paz moaned deeply at your answer, his thrusts picking up the pace as he worked your clit, attempting to get you to come before he did. “Gods, my bunny ‘s so good to me,” he slurred, sounding suspiciously punch-drunk. “Gonna let me fill ‘er up, gonna let me come inside. Gonna lemme fill ‘er so full everyone knows she’s mine.”

You weren’t sure if it was just good timing, or if his words actually pushed you over the edge, but as he growled the word ‘mine,’ the coil snapped and your whole body stiffened up as you came, and you came hard.

Clenching uncontrollably on his cock, you began to tremble even harder in his hold, your legs practically useless. You surely would’ve collapsed if not for Paz. Luckily, his arm was a band of beskar around your waist, and he kept you pressed tight against him as your whole body shook with your orgasm. You figure it was the sensation of your release that triggered his own, and with an almighty growl, he came too, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm as he fulfilled his promise and filled you up.

Every rough, unsteady, uneven jerk of his hips pushed you closer and closer to overstimulation. You were often closer to being overstimulated rather than under-stimulated with the frequency that Paz indulged in your body, and sessions like this only made it worse. Paz seemed to love how shaky you got when you were overstimulated, how much your legs trembled, how broken your breathing sounded. There was a reason he’d made sure you picked a safe word, because when he got in the mood, he wouldn’t stop for anything short of the world being set on fire.

Finally, he stilled inside of you, his fingers stopping their torturous assault on your abused clit. You sagged against him, eyes shut as you felt your heart rate begin to slow and your breathing even out. Paz simply held you tighter, his arms wrapping more securely around your stomach and pulling you back against his chest. He always became a cuddle-bug after sex, something you’d secretly been thrilled to discover.

The sound of your name falling from his lips drew you out of the haze you’d settled into, and you hummed softly to signal that you were now paying attention or attempting to at least.

“Thank you, bunny,” Paz said, his voice soft and low, a true sign of how relaxed he was. “I really needed that today.”

You made a face, your nose scrunching up slightly as your brain sluggishly thought over his words. “Y’don’ need t’ th’nk me, Paz,” you slurred, your tongue feeling far too heavy in your mouth. “‘m here, y’know. F’r you.”

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly self-deprecating. He could get maudlin sometimes, after your little sessions. It seemed like today was one of those times, and had you been more coherent, you would’ve pressed. But you weren’t, so you didn’t.

When he spoke, the traces of self-deprecation were gone, and back in place was the cocksure attitude you’d grown used to from your best friend-turned-roommate/fuckbuddy.

“Did I fuck all the thoughts outta your pretty head, bunny rabbit?” You frowned, or tried to, at least. “Awe, that’s ok,” he crooned. “Just lemme take care of you, now. You take such good care of me, it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He slowly pulled away, managing to keep you upright while he rearranged his and your clothes in an effort to look like he hadn’t just fucked you stupid. Just as you were beginning to sway dangerously, your legs feeling far too much like Jell-O, he picked you up bridal style, and began to carry you out to the couch.

You should’ve been content to just stay cradled in his arms, but something was nagging at you, something important, if only your brain was capable of forming coherent thought. Like usual, however, Paz seemed to know your mind better than you knew it yourself. He placed you gently on the couch, pressing his lips briefly to your forehead before pulling back. Your eyes slowly opened, and you whined quietly at the loss of his heat. He only smiled down at you.

“It’s alright, lemme just go and take the food outta the oven, bunny. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Ah.

Right.

The food.

You’d honestly forgotten.

You felt like you should be mad at him for distracting you, and likely burning dinner, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to express anything other than exhausted satisfaction. You sank down into the couch cushions, eyes falling shut again as Paz left to go take care of the food. Your body ached pleasantly, and you honestly could’ve fallen asleep then and there if it weren’t for the promise of Paz coming back to cuddle with you.

It felt like no time at all–although your current perception of the passage of time was unreliable at best–that you felt your body being carefully lifted again as the warm, muscled form of your best friend slid onto the couch behind you. He was always so gentle, unbearably so sometimes, and this was no exception. He settled into a reclined position, with you lying mostly on top of him, your face able to easily nestle into the crook of his neck. He slung an arm across your waist to better hold you, and the last bits of tension drained from both of your bodies near simultaneously.

Now that you were fully settled, you felt yourself beginning to drift off to sleep. As you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, you whispered quietly into heated skin.

“Love you, Paz.”

As the blanket of sleep fully settled over you, you missed his equally soft, and strangely melancholic response.

“I know, bunny. Love you too.”

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angelofbenignmalevolence · 18 days

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For thunderpride asks: 10 and Havoc + F :) thank youuu!

Thanks for the ask! I'm going to apologize in advance because my ridiculous self can't write a short reply to anything XD XD XD Full answer under the read more because it's a little on the lengthy side.

10) Describe an angsty moment for a favourite queer ship

So this question had me hemming and hawing. But I've decided to go with a ship that I have toyed with in my head but that I have never seen anyone else write (primarily because the characters never interact in the show lol). You're gonna get a little happy story (i'm sorry, I can't help myself and it's gonna be sketchy and unbeta'd) before the angst comes, so bear with me.

So for a little bit of background information, this guy right here:

This gentleman is known by (presumably) his surname. He is only ever referred to as Kinnear. We see him in the episodes Skyhook, Impact, Weather or Not, and Bolt from the Blue. He works for Langstrom Fischler, who we know is a complete and utter idiot. But Kinnear seems smart, working initially as a researcher and later as an engineer. Why would someone with the kind of brain and level head that he seems to have work for someone who has no concept of safety?

Because he doesn't have another option.

Edan Kinnear was happily engaged before everything went sideways. He had met his fiance when he was in college.

He'd just come back from an engineering competition and was riding the high of their team's victory at the competition. The whole team went out for celebratory drinks. Most of the team invited their boyfriends and girlfriends along. Kinnear didn't have one of those, but he was well liked by all of the team and considered a part of the family. They also knew he was horribly shy when it came to the whole dating thing. The whole crowd was loud and rowdy and they all had a few too many drinks. One of his buddies made a bar bet with him, that he had ten minutes to get someone, anyone to buy him a drink, and he would win double if it was accompanied by a kiss.

Kinnear couldn't back out and still keep his head held high. So his shy ass looked around the bar and tried to find the most likely way to win some money. And in the back corner he found someone sitting alone. Not just anyone, though. He found one of the star athletes for their school. Lochlyn Rutherford, if he remembered correctly. One of the handsomest guys in school and one notorious for not entangling himself with romances. He was the only one already separated from the pack though, and Edan needed to not have to shell out the money for a lost bet.

So off to the back corner he went, sitting down at the table across from the athlete, who raised an eyebrow, the only change to his sullen expression.

"Do have a seat, won't you?" he remarked dryly as he took a drink.

"Look, I'm going to cut to the chase. You don't know me-"

"I do, Kinnear." This stopped him in his tracks. Lochlyn Rutherford knew who he was? He shook his head.

"Ok...so...maybe you do know me," he said. "I'm going to cut right to the chase. My buddies at the bar made a bet that I couldn't get someone to buy me a drink in the next ten minutes. If I can't get someone to buy me a drink, I'm out $150 to pay out to all of them."

"And all you need is someone to buy you a drink?" Lochlyn looked skeptical.

"That's all I need. I don't need to go double or nothing," he said. "I just need to not pay $150." He looked over his shoulder slightly to see his entire crew was watching. "Look, if you buy me the drink, I'll give you half the winnings." Lochlyn seemed to consider the offer a moment.

"What's the double or nothing criteria?" he asked. Kinnear's face reddened.

"Er...you'd have to kiss me," Kinnear said. Lochlyn let out a snort but got to his feet.

"What's your drink?" he asked. Kinnear gave a bright smile.

"Whatever the cheapest beer is," he said. He didn't care. He was over the moon that he wasn't going to have to pay up. Lochlyn went over to the bar and grabbed the drinks, setting the beer down in front of Kinnear. He looked up to tell him thank you when he felt Lochlyn's lips against his own, his hand coming down on the chair behind him as he gave Kinnear the soundest kiss he had ever received in his life. When he moved back, Kinnear's eyes were wide and he struggled for a response.

"I like the sound of $150 better than $75."

And that was how Kinnear had met his fiance. They'd graduated and Lochlyn had gone into the military, using his smarts as well as his strength to become one of the best engineers in his unit. They'd been together four years before Lochlyn had proposed. They were engaged another three years before things fell apart.

They told him it had been an accident. That something horrible had happened but, so sorry, military personnel and all. The project was highly classified. Something had gone horribly wrong and Lochlyn wasn't going to be coming home. They told him that his body hadn't been found after the accident. That there would be nothing for him to bury.

Kinnear was devastated. On top of it all, his brother and his wife were involved in a car wreck and neither one had made it out alive. He had lost his fiance, his brother, and his sister in law. He was a grieving man and he was all of a sudden the guardian of his young niece. He had to do something for money. He couldn't let his brother down. So he took the highest paying job he could find that he met the qualifications for: researcher and engineering personnel for Langstrom Fischler, a man who had more money than he knew what to do with.

The money allowed him to live comfortably and to take care of his niece so she wanted for nothing. His holiday bonus even ensured he could give his fiance a nice funeral. Kinnear had been the only person left in Lochlyn's life after he left his family and never looked back. So he had a headstone erected in the cemetery nearest where they had been living together.

Here Lies Lochlyn Rutherford Loving Fiance, A beacon of a brighter future "The Mechanic"

F) At what age do they figure out their identity?

So my thoughts on Havoc's sexuality are colored a little bit by several of the headcanons that concurrently run rampant through my brain. And I think the one I settle on most often for her is a little on the darker side (nothing too dark, but a little on the cynical side).

I think that Havoc figures out her identity long before she finds the words to label it. Havoc comes from want. She wants more than she has. She wants food on her plate, enough to satiate the hunger for more that burns inside of her. She wants her technology, enough for her to ensure no one can take from her what is hers. She wants safety, a safe place to rest her head, to feel protected, to allow her to protect others. These are what Havoc desires above all else.

For her, the sex was always more about what it got her in return: shelter, an advantage, an experience. She never did anything she wasn't comfortable with, and she was strong enough to make sure that anyone that tried anything she didn't want didn't make the mistake of doing it a second time.

She always thought that the fact that she didn't care about what was in someone's pants made her bi- or pan-sexual, and that's what she told people because the reality was a bit more complicated than that. Sexuality is intrinsically connected to the attraction one feels, but for her, sex was never about the attraction. Men, women, non-binary, genderfluid, none of it meant anything to her. She learned from living a life of not enough that sometimes sex, it's just a means to an end. She's never cruel about it, but she isn't one to form attachments like that. Feelings don't come easy for her.

But oh, when she does find those feelings, when she finds a deep connection with someone and learns about every little part of them, the dark secrets and the brightest joys, the sound of their laugh and the taste of their sadness, that's when she blossoms. She finds the attraction that lacked in her previous sexual relationships. She finds the most fragile parts in her person to be the most beautiful and she wants more than anything to be let in to those fragile parts of her partner. She finds her attraction in the deep, emotional connection to her partner. And it's much later, long after she discovers this, that she learns the word "demisexual" and decides this fits her quite nicely.

So the tl;dr is I don't think she figures out her identity until into her late twenties or thirties.

Thank you for putting up with this super long reply! Hope this answered your question!

If there are other questions you want to see answered, take a look at the question list linked below and I would love to answer more!

#thunderbirds are go #thunderpride #answered asks #ask games #Havoc #Kinnear #the mechanic #headcanon #thunderpride 2024

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pcttymcrlecu · 1 year

Text

fools rush in (and i've been a fool before)

inspired kind-of by: please don’t say you love me by gabrielle aplin

summary: previous fears, heavy words and a fear of change hinders the spark that turned lilah’s heart into summer despite the long canadian winter.

featuring: lilah j. winters (oc) and the vancouver canucks, namely bo horvat, holly horvat, tulsa horvat, milo boeser and coolie boeser

word count: 4k

warnings: none

m’s rambles: this is for @antoineroussel’s winter fic exchange 2023. i was given the joy of writing for @torontoflames so i hope you enjoy this c!! i spent so long going back and forth hoping to create something worthy to gift to you! it was surprisingly really difficult - not sure i made it as angsty/hurt-comfort as i wanted to but i still hope you enjoy it!

big big thank you to demi for quelling my fears and uncertainties as well as giving me some much needed second opinion on the fic. it’s so very much appreciated!!

i hope you enjoy this semi-personal piece of work – it’s inspired roughly by a relationship/situation i had when i first went to university, so it was cathartic for me to get this out there. there’s a line in here that this someone said to me, and i had to use it. like it’s something and it’s stuck with me, and i needed to make way for it in something i wrote, and this was apparently it. i wonder if you can figure out which line it is.

Lilah had grown up around athletes her whole life which had led to her interest in working with them as a grown-up. When she moved to university, she had somehow cemented herself a place amongst the college athletes in her year by pure chance which made her life easier in the later years of her university career. As cheesy as it sounds, they’d all become like brothers to her and for that, she was more than happy to have found them.

When a fortunate internship program for her chosen career as a sports psychologist had brought Bo Horvat into her life, she never expected to become an honorary Horvat. It had taken mere moments for Bo to claim the young woman, who at the time was a nervous wreck, as his sister and quickly took her under his wing. She would be lying to say she didn’t appreciate having someone on her side in such a daunting and intimidating situation. He took his responsibilities as a big brother seriously and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness.

Knowing Bo Horvat came with knowing the rest of the Vancouver Canucks, thus a whole host of new brothers were introduced to her world. Most of whom were happy to play protective big brother when needed on nights out. Their partners gave her a welcome reprieve from all the testosterone whenever she’d see them around to the point where she began to receive invites to brunches and casual hangouts. It was a whole new circle that she could never have dreamed of being a part of and yet when she’d pinch herself, they didn’t fade, and the woman would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel all warm inside.

Lilah considered herself a woman of strong will and wasn’t one to swoon over any of the players just because of who they were. She thought she’d created strong defences against their so-called charm considering how long she’d been around the flirtatious tendencies of young athletes and yet here she caught herself floating off the ground slightly at the sight of a certain blond. Her eyes were scanning the scene happening in the garden, bobbing gently with Tulsa in her arms in an attempt to give her parents some free time to just exist as a couple, not parents. She loved taking care of them, being their self-proclaimed favourite aunt, and team barbeques like this gave her all the time in the world to cuddle them. They also gave her the time to observe the man who had unwittingly swept her right off her feet by simply playing around his pair of canine friends.

When she had first met Brock, it had been during one of her training sessions at Thunderbird Arena when she had been introduced to him. He was one of the players she hadn’t met directly through Bo but rather through the very reason she was even allowed to wander around the players in the first place. They hadn’t spoken much; she was mainly there to observe and had made a vow to stay out of the players' way if she didn’t need to interact with them so as to not bother them. It wasn’t until they’d run into each other once again at a dinner party Holly had convinced Bo to throw that they had slipped into surprisingly easy conversation.

Most likely due to the closeness in their age, the two of them got along like a house of fire. Both fed off each other as they supported one another throughout their careers. She had found a safe space in confiding in the hockey player and was more than happy to be there to listen not as a training professional but simply as a friend. The easiness of their friendship should have been a clear warning sign for the woman but as time progressed she couldn’t spot the signs of things changing until it was too late. It felt like all the air had been stolen from her lungs when the reality of her feelings had finally been processed in her mind. She had left that gathering abruptly, claiming she had a report deadline she had forgotten about before disappearing.

It was a mistake she had made before and she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t date a young athlete ever again, no matter how endearing and kind they seemed. It was almost as if life had intended for her to date one of the university athletes, after all, she spent as much time with them as she did with her actual friends. If you asked her now, she’d say it was nothing but an unfortunate situation and that she doesn’t hold any resentment towards him. But the hurt which was fed by predominantly fear remained. She knew that Brock would never be the kind of person who would humiliate her in the same way it happened in the past, but she couldn’t quite let go of what-ifs that plagued her mind. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake – not at the risk of her newfound friends.

What made it worse was as her feelings began to process in her mind, all their friends teasing came back to haunt her. The two of them were practically as thick as thieves regardless of how short a time they had known each other and the more she thought about it, the more she could see exactly why her friends were constantly teasing them. What she dismissed once as feeling comfortable and safe with Brock, while all true, she could now acknowledge the underlying reasons behind why everything with him just felt right. Lilah hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed entirely subconsciously, and she wasn’t sure how exactly she should feel about but she wasn’t comfortable anymore.

The following weeks were nothing but declined invites and unanswered phone calls. The only times her friends were able to see her were when they were all at work and it was nothing but professionalism when they were able to speak to her. It wasn’t until Holly turned up at her apartment door with a concerned look on her face and open arms that the truth finally came out. The older woman promised not to tell anyone not even her husband until Lilah did so herself.

From that moment, it was slow going to become part of the group once again. None of her friends mentioned her absence rather they just adopted her back into the pack as if nothing had happened. Getting comfortable around Brock, however, was much more difficult for her. She didn’t want to slip back into their old routine, it was dangerous for her because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold off being near him again. It had taken a much longer length of time, many bribes and an ambush movie night with Milo and Coolie for her to fall back into a comfortable routine with the boy. She still claimed that the puppies did all the heavy lifting that evening.

The same pup that now had an insistent wet nose against her knee, gently pawing at her leg demanding attention. For an excitable young dog Milo who nearly always wanted to do nothing else but play, he was always very aware of young children as he was being so around the baby in Lilah’s arms right now. The dog’s presence, however, clued her into the man who was walking in her direction.

“Hello Prince Charming,” She greeted as he huffed sitting down in the seat beside her, taking a moment to coo at the little girl before rolling his eyes.

“Get off it,” His grumble came, Milo making quick work of getting pets from his dad before wandering off to play with his brother and the other dogs loose in the garden.

“The resemblance is uncanny Boeser you can’t deny it.” She sighed as she leaned over to give the man a gentle push, “I’ll never be able to watch Shrek the same ever again.”

The laugh that followed was cut short as she paused a moment to look down at the small peaceful face against her chest. Smiling over at him, Lilah took a moment to watch the false frustration on his face fall as he smiled back at her with a good-natured shake of his head.

“I should have chosen another movie to force you to watch,”

“You shouldn’t have forced me to watch anything!”

“And risk losing my newest friend, no thanks.” Her eyes rolled at his words, a strange tightness building in her chest at what she knew was supposed to be a friendly quip.

In isolating herself, while it allowed her to wrap her head around the craziness of her own feelings, she had strained the relationships she would say she had been gifted. The whole process was entirely selfish of her, and she hadn’t taken a single moment to consider how it would make her new friends feel.

“You mean a lot more to me than you seem to think you know.” The words cut through her train of thought like a sharp blade, spreading a cold chill through her entire being as she slowly turned her head to look at him through the corner of her eye. Brock’s eyes were already affixed on her, monitoring the slightest changes to her expression. His sudden attentiveness struck a deep fear within her. Even though she knew she should be happy about the implications of his statement, she couldn’t help but feel that feeling of fear sit in her chest again, “I thought I’d lost any inkling of a chance, you know?”

It wasn’t until a beat later that she turned to look at him, adjusting the sleeping infant in her arms to not disturb her, “Chance at what?”

“A chance at being able to tell you that –“

“You know what it doesn’t matter it was in the past.” Her interruption was firm, Lilah could only hope it was firm enough for Brock to get the message to just stop. To let her breathe and process. To give her room to do what she does best and run.

“It’s not in the past,” He answered louder than either of them had expected, huffing as he turned away and slumped in his seat, “We’ve never spoken about why you cut us all off.”

“Why would we?”

“I can’t speak for the others, but I was scared for you Lils.” His voice was so heart-shatteringly genuine to Lilah to the point where it felt as if she’d been punched straight in the gut.

“No need to be scared for me,” The words were, hopefully, encouraging as she reached over and lightly patted his arm before going back to support Tulsa.

“I can’t help it; I like you, Lilah. I know we joke about it when the others poke and prod, but I really do feel–“

“Brock please don’t do that–”

“Lilah listen to me.”

“You can’t finish that sentence.”

“Why not?”

“Because–!”

“Because? Surely you have a better answer than that.” The look of hurt didn’t escape her notice, but she found herself more focused on the growing frustration on his brow. Real this time – not the light-hearted fake expression he had been donning earlier in their conversation.

“Just– how… we’ve only been friends up until now.”

“Doesn’t mean things can’t change!” His voice was not only getting more frantic but there was a definite tone of conviction that was supported by the look on his face, “I’ve liked you since I met you. I just didn’t know how to get close to you as more than a friend. You were working for the team at the time, I didn’t want to mess that up for you. So, you became my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that.”

Several beats passed after his confession and Lilah was finding it hard to not only process. A part of her was scolding herself at how thoughtful of her career he was being. They’d spent far too many nights talking about where she hoped to get to in the future so it only made sense that he wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. The words that followed were whispered, barely carrying any sound, but his response told her that he’d heard it perfectly clearly. “It’s too fast”

“Ask anyone, ask Bo.”

“I believe you, Brock, I just,” Lilah took in a deep breath as she looked back out to the party her eyes hunting for the brother-like figure who had just been mentioned, “I’ve done this before. There’s an expectation being with someone like you and I couldn’t live up to it before, I’m sure as hell not trying again. I’m not going to lose myself again.”

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to change, I thought you knew that.” He had clearly taken some offence from the implication of her words but what hurt Brock more was how much he understood where she was coming from. He knew it wasn’t easy being with him but they were already closer than close, surely a change of their status wouldn’t have that much of an effect?

He’d also say with her when she finally felt comfortable enough to truly be herself and speak about why it wasn’t just her internship that had her reluctant to date any of the players. He remembered having held her close as he watched his, granted reserved, but strong in every sense of the word friend fight to keep her wits about her. It wasn’t until he had let her know that he was there for her that the floodgates and all details about her past were revealed to him. The pain had etched itself into Brock’s heart the more he heard her say with an accompaniment of anger at her ex, boys in general, the world. He wasn’t sure but he knew she didn’t deserve to go through what she had. No one did.

It’s why he refused to fight her about it. Even though the feeling of rejection cut him deep, it wasn’t deep enough for her to suddenly forget the thought of vengeance in her name that had sat in the recesses of his mind since that eye-opening evening. Instead of fighting and trying to convince her to give him a chance, Brock bit his tongue. He stayed quiet beside her, not knowing where else to go that wouldn’t upset her further until she spoke up once again, directing his attention out of his head and back onto her.

“I don’t I don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me and I love where we are, how we are.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they simply looked at one another. The look of hurt on Brock’s face had only deepened but she could see understanding slip into his face and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Even in a situation where he’s not getting what he wants, he’s so willing and ready to understand. She would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to see him so down. With a forlorn sigh, she carefully rose from her seat and stared ahead at Bo uttering softly before she walked towards him. “Why should we put that pressure on ourselves?“

Brock had been watching her from the moment she walked away, moving to pass Tulsa back to her parents before giving them a wave. It wasn’t until Lilah had walked back into the house to presumably leave that he let himself answer her question. “Because we could be a diamond.”

A blind man could see that there was a shift in the way the two twenty-somethings interacted. The smooth, slickness of their close friendship, which everyone had gotten bored of teasing the two of them about, had gotten more strained than when Lilah had ignored them all. Maybe because it was clear that she was only making an active effort to avoid Brock which unintentionally put a strain on the whole group. Even Lilah could see that she was pulling her friends in two directions, but she couldn’t quite work through her previous experiences to just open up to the one person she knew she needed to speak to.

With the help of multiple glasses of wine deep into a girl’s night, the girls in question had torn down the walls she had put up hiding behind self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm until Lilah’s voice finally cracked as she shared her fears with her friends. They were all quick to wrap her in tight hugs and comfort her, but they weren’t leaving without helping her fix the knot she had tied herself into.

“You realise he’s hurting too, right?” Holly muttered softly, gently lifting the girl’s chin to face her as she listened to her sniffle. The older woman gently wiped the girl’s tears away, offering her a sisterly smile.

“I know and I hate myself for it.” Lilah’s words prompted very firm shakes from not only Holly but the rest of the gathered women.

“He’s never going to hold it over you. He knows how much you were hurt before, and he’d hate to put you through that again.” She confirmed as Lilah’s hand reached up to catch the newly formed tears before they streaked down her face with their friends, “But he’d never–“

“Let that happen, I know Holl.” A frustrated grunt left her mouth as she threw her hands up at no one but herself, “I’m avoiding him because I don’t want to see the sadness on his face when I can’t repeat his words to him. I don’t want to rush into anything – not this time.”

“Then let him know, don’t leave him wondering whether or not you like him at all.” The reality of what she had left Brock to assume finally hit her, a wave and dread flooding her body before resolve took its place. She was going to make things right, the only way she knew how.

Despite her throbbing head, she was up bright and early for work. Maybe brainstorming with your girls and drinking nearly a bottle of wine to yourself isn’t the best way to fuel your energy levels the night before a workday. Her hands held the tupperware tightly as she walked through the practice facility, a burn she’d procured in her tipsy state was on display on her wrist. A small price to pay she had convinced herself, but she was adamant to start making amends immediately. Anxiety was starting to build in her chest, it felt as though someone was pressing down on her heart the closer she got to the locker room, but her mind was set, and she was going to do it.

When her fist gently knocked on the locker room door, knowing only a few of the team would have actually arrived so early before practice but she knew Brock was one of them (Bo as well in case she needed the moral support). A yell followed her knock, but she only responded with another knock until the door was pulled open to reveal big brother himself who immediately cheered at the sight of her. Fortunately, all the boys were dressed, or at least covered up, as they welcomed her inside. Lilah’s greeting was brief, and she momentarily forgot why she even made the journey until Conor asked about what she was holding.

“Oh yeah – Brock these are for you, I know you like them.” Her voice was as soft as it had been when she first met the boys which they all found weird but understood considering the tension everyone had felt around the two recently. She carefully handed over the container which Brock took apprehensively but accepted with a nod, nonetheless. Watching as he pulled the lid off to reveal protein brownie, a smile that she hadn’t seen on his face (at least around her) made residence on his lips as he looked up at her. After the first time she had made the brownies for the boys, Brock had been begging her to make him a batch, but she always brushed the request off, claiming she was too busy, “I finally had some time to make you some more.”

Giving him a quick smile and a shrug, she turned on her heels and walked straight out of the locker room. Pausing as soon as she was out of their sights to just breathe in deep and fill her lungs properly feeling a little lost for breath but proud of herself for the courage that she had displayed. It was small but she knew it was just the start of her apologies. As she set off down the hallway again with a slight skip in her step, a hand slipped around her bicep gently turning her back around to face the way she had just come.

“Thank you,” Was the first thing she heard as her eyes settled on Brock who had let go of her arm and taken a step back. A weak smile was still perched on his lips as he spoke, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “The boys are a little envious, especially Bo.”

“I think he’s just used to getting the baked goods for himself.” Lilah joked with a nervous smile, watching his face before choosing to bite the bullet and just say what she’s been wanting to say, “Listen, Boes – I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.”

“Then why did you just walk away? And then avoid me?”

“I told you; I didn’t want to lose you.” It was the honest truth, they both knew it but she also knew it wasn’t the full story. With his kindness and thoughtfulness and willingness to understand, he deserved to know everything, “Being around you makes me both the happiest person in the world and also the most nervous.”

Brock almost couldn’t believe the words he was hearing as his brows furrowed in response, “I make you nervous? Is this still because of the expectations? Of being with a professional athlete?”

“No Brock, I’ve seen you in a clay face mask, I’m not nervous because of who you are!” They both laughed at the memory she had mentioned, it being the same night he gained his new nickname from her, “You make me nervous because my tummy starts to turn, and my heart beats out of control when I’m around you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do anything that makes you feel unhappy or unsettled. I’m happy where we are too so long as you let me stay here” He couldn’t help but worry that he might have pushed too far and what that meant for their future as friends. His fingers tried to get rid of the anxious energy by softly nudging Lilah’s fingers with her own until he felt a light squeeze from her.

“I didn’t stop you from speaking because I didn’t reciprocate but because I panicked.”

“So, you do care about me the same way?”

The pure confusion on his face was endearing and all Lilah could do in response was further reduce the gap between them. She reached over and gently took his hand in her own, first grasping onto his fingers and allowing him the opportunity to pull away. When she felt the pressure of his finger bending slightly to hold onto her own, she slipped her hand further in his until their palms sat firmly against one another, “I like how we are, I wasn’t lying. But I can’t deny that my heart skips a beat whenever I’m with you, but we’d be foolish to rush into this and ruin everything that we have. Brock you are my Prince Charming–“

“But he’s–“

“I know he’s the bad guy don’t ruin the moment.” He let out a short laugh, copying her previous actions and stepping closer to her and quickly making work of holding her other hand, “ But I need us to take this slow, can we do that?”

“Of course we can.” The words were whispered as if an entire weight had just fallen off his back. Pulling her across the minimal space between them, his arms wrapped her in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting her and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, “ Whatever you need, you’re what I’ve been looking for.”

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #brock boeser x oc #( m writing. )#( this entire pic was one of the most challenging things I've done with writing in almost a year so thank you for the opportunity! )#( it was a rollercoaster but a lot of fun! )#brock boeser imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #brock boeser fic

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fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

Hey eve :) I just found out the athletic trainers at my grad school aren’t going to clear me to play hockey for the team because of my chronic health condition :/ if you’re up to it, would you consider a lil angsty Loops before he joined the team bc he misses hockey ?

Ps ur writing is dragging my heart and soul thru a PhD program 💜

Fic O'Ween Day 9: Masquerade. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

(I'm so sorry to hear about hockey, love. You've got this. I believe in you.)

It was hard to look at them, sometimes. The jerseys, the swagger, even their fucking flows—the stupid, silly things that shouldn’t bother him but they did. Even Sirius, who…well, Remus wouldn’t go so far as to say he could do no wrong, but he had his moments. When hockey slang would roll off his tongue so easily that it made Remus’ stomach clench, or when his voice would take on that particular up-and-down cadence of a well-placed chirp.

It was everything he could have been. Had been. Never would be again.

Remus worried the plastic edge of the page between his fingertips before flipping it. It had been seven years, eight in the fall. He should be over it by now. He loved his job, he loved his friends, he loved his boyfriend so much he didn’t know what to do with it all. It would come bubbling up and pouring out in kisses or dinner or a hug that made his heart feel like it would burst, and Sirius would laugh, and squeeze him just as tight.

He was lucky, so lucky, and still so goddamn sad when he saw his reflection next to his friends. Remus Lupin, NHL prospect, felt like a fever dream. Remus Lupin, too little to take a hit, was not a look he had missed in the years since everything fell apart. The muscle didn’t matter. It was the way he held himself, the shine in his eyes. Bulking up was just a series of chemical reactions but there was nothing that could bring that dream back to what it used to be.

He needed to be okay with it, or he would lose everything he had scraped together into a handful of vital happiness. Once upon a time, Remus would have done anything to rewind the clock. It felt good to have something to lose, now.

So every morning, he got up. He made coffee and took a shower, changed into his uniform, caught the subway like a half-million other commuters. He greeted Moody and chatted with Talkie for as long as he could manage. The repetition had numbed him just right when he started working for the Lions. No room for dwelling on the past when it was tucked in a neat little box.

“Loops.”

A new name, too. Blue Gatorade and fist bumps coming off the ice. Remus attended the world’s most painful masquerade party every day and didn’t regret a second of it. He made that mask—he owned it, it was his and only his. ‘Loops’ was gentle and warm and comforting. Loops didn’t cry himself to sleep because some sweaty jock asked if he knew what a ‘Michigan’ looked like. Loops smiled. Chirped him. Moved on.

Remus carved out a nook for himself and refused to acknowledge the part of him that remained on that locker room floor, seven years old and still fresh when he poked it.

He figured Sirius understood, in a sense. There was power in the knowing. A piece of Sirius would always be in a dark, gaunt house and so he got it in a way few others rarely did—in a way Remus rarely let others see. It would be enough for them both until they were ready to say more.

“Je t’aime,” Sirius would whisper in the dark like he thought Remus wouldn’t hear. He’d say it loud, too, but that particular crack of heartbreak was not something for loud voices. He’d say, “you’re so good to me” and “how could I deserve you?”, often with a smile but always with a little too much truth underneath. It was a dance they did; he never wanted it to end.

An eternity ago, he would have given anything to step foot on the ice for just five more minutes. Now, in his office with a new roster in-hand and a small picture of him and Sirius framed near the corner edge, he would give anything to keep exactly what he had built.

(Mostly.)

(Sort of.)

(Some dreams never really died.)

#remus lupin #sirius black #thomas walker #alastor moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o'ween 2022 #noot fest #masquerade #angsty loops #remus go to therapy don't make me ask again

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maxemilianverstappen · 8 months

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as Max Stan, I’m very confused to see some Charles stans getting angry over a paddle game with Max. I even saw one Stan who tagged him and said he lost all his ambitions and shame him for hang out with a guy from competitive team(he/she said practically same things when Charles congratulate Max for 3 WDC). I don’t know why some Charles stans hates Max and wants to believe Charles actually hates Max and Max just pressure him into friendship so much bc everyone is rival on this sport and Max never did anything wrong/petty toward Charles(beside 2019 but Charles took his revenge lol) even if you not a shipper. They can stay mad I guess.

Tho I am ADDICTED to the angstiness of this, even their guy realized he can be friends and can have fun together with the guy, even if they are each other's chosen rivals, without losing anything from his own self worth/respect or from his winning mentality. It is high time his fans too see that Max and Charles don't have to be hateful fucks to each other just because they both want to win against each other more than anything.

I don't understand where this mentality is coming from. I'd say people are reflecting their toxic masculine views about success upon Charles, but most of the fans talking like this are female identifying people... Then again, it can be an ingrained/learned thing.

Like, how can people not celebrate this actually? Here we have two athletes who are considered this generation's best, slowly getting closer and friendlier and having fun together. Isn't it something wonderful?

I know it is easier to talk for me because I am a Max fan and Max is winning. But even if the situation reverses itself in the future and they stay peaceful and nice and happy together while fighting tooth and nails, I would have admired it and cherish whatching it unfold as a fan of the sports, not just as a shipper or shit.

Also, do you see how most of these "Charles has gone soft/lost his competitive self/lost his winning mentality/should show his teeth" people are mainly focusing on his relationship with Max instead of focusing on how he should be more assertive within the team. It is almost like they are using Charles as yet again an instrument to hate on Max. If it wasn't Max, I bet they'd be more than okay about him hanging out with, say, Lewis or Daniel or Lando.

The guy doesn't have the car he needs. His killer instincts are still there. That's why Max says "I hope our dominance lasts as long as possible, because I know Ferrari (Charles) will be there at the first opportunity." He trusts Charles to be there, maybe his fans also should trust their guy, too.

#i answer things

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brassknucklespeirs · 2 years

Text

Mʏ Bʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s Bᴇsᴛ Fʀɪᴇɴᴅ [Bɪʟʟ Gᴜᴀʀɴᴇʀᴇ x ꜰʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Pairing: Bill Guarnere x female reader (platonic Tab x reader, platonic babe x reader)

Genre: Angsty fluff

Warning: war tings, a lot of swearing, general stuff I usually put, just like if you can’t handle the show, then don’t both trying to handle this, mention of death, mention of wounds

A/N: Ngl i based reader off of how i would react to this happening to me so i apologise if it’s a little iffy, felt that Bill needed a chaotic mess of a love interest so to all my chaotic ladies out there, i see you and i respect it also this ain’t fully edited so deal with it cause I’m tired

It was considered just another regular day for Y/N, well, as normal as a day of suiting up to jump out of a perfectly good plane and go to war could be. Though in all honesty, nothing could have necessarily been considered as normal with a world war raging on, and on top of that was the addition of women into the American military. It had been a wild day when it had been made known that the US had already begun to train women of a certain level of ability, whether that was academic or athletic wise. Those women who showed they were willing to work just as hard, though in actuality even harder, than the men who already held positions in the Army were welcomed into the ranks as normal soldiers. Well, mostly.

The addition of women into the airborne had been slower than that of women into the army, with the air lifted infantry being such a fresh trial itself. So when Y/N found herself amongst the nine women who had been accepted into Easy company as the first of their kind, female airborne infantry soldiers, she couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest. Or maybe that was the anxiety, at this point she really had no clue but she’d at least try and bluff it until she made it. She had been hand selected from many other application, and had already finished basic training with the army when she got the news. With her already stellar reviews from her superiors, the woman had been told she would be made a replacement corporal when she landed with Easy. Once she made it to her new company, along with the eight other women, she had been placed with Sergeant Talbert, as well as one of her closest friends Mary and one other, a medic by the name of Cassandra.

So that was how she ended up here, on a landing strip in England, covered in straps and ropes, ready to board a plane to go to war. She kept the smile on her face for the sake of both her friends and herself, yet the swirling sick feeling continued to reck havoc on her stomach. Mary sat beside her, staring at her hands as she flexed them open and closed, her mind numb to the chaos that happened around them. Y/N saw this, reaching forward immediately to grip at her friend’s hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. The other woman looked up, her eyes wide with a child-like fear as she did causing her to send her an encouraging grin.

“We’ve trained for this Mary, just remember what we we’ve taught and listen to your sergeant and everything will work out. Okay?” Y/N uttered, squeezing the other woman’s hand once more. Mary just nodded in response, afraid that if she opened her mouth she might end up sick all over the tarmac beneath them. A yell to gather around sounded over the noise causing the women and those around them to stand to their feet and group together. Captain Winters stood looking out over the crowd, and Y/N didn’t miss the look of relief and the man’s calmed features.

“Eisenhower’s just issued new orders. The jump’s been cancelled. We’ll be staying in England a bit longer it would seem boys. And girls.” The red headed man shouted to them, stopping to nod his head in recognition to the multiple women scattered in the group, the sound of sighs and deep breaths could be heard all around, some of relief and some of annoyance from those who just wanted it over and done with; Y/N was one of them. If it wasn’t today, it’d only be tomorrow. A bump against her shoulder caused the woman to turn, her eyes finding the face of Edward Heffron, who stood smiling down at her.

“Why the bitter face Angel?” The woman smiled at the nickname she’d become accustomed to hearing, but rolled her eyes at the man in response.

“How long must we wait Eddie?” She muttered back, her tongue holding malice while her eyes flickered around the surrounding soldiers.

“You’re just itching for a fight aye?” Heffron asked yet her attention wasn’t fully on him when she caught sight of someone who looked familiar over his shoulder.

“Something like that.” She mumbled, her eyes squinting at the man who had just turned his back to them, her gaze eventually shifting back to her friend in front of her when the figure wandered off, dark hair being the only thing she could see as he did so. She focused back on Edward fully, her features pulling into a cheeky smile as she shrugged off the feeling of suspicion.

“Guess you can buy the girls and I that drink after all hey Eddie boy. God knows I’m going to need one.” Y/N spoke with a smirk, moving forward to smack the top of his helmet before beginning her walk back to town, awkwardly jogging with half her kit still tied to her to catch up with the group of women before her. She turned to look back over her shoulder with the same grin. “I’ll see you at the bar!”

***

The home of the lovely old English couple that Y/N and Mary were staying in were happy to have the women return that evening, fussing over the both of them and promising to cook them a delicious meal while they kick their feet up after such a stressful day. Mary was happy to oblige as she sat down in one of the arm chairs with a tea in her hand while Y/N continued to stand, pacing back and forth in front of her friend. The seated woman sighed, crossing on of her legs over the other while taking a sip of her hot drink.

“Y/N, please just sit down. Have a cup of tea and relax.”

“Relax Mary? I don’t want to relax, we haven’t trained this long to be kept on the sidelines. I want to get out there and make a bloody difference in this god-forsaken war, that’s what I signed up to do. And I just know the second I relax is the second we’re gonna be sent packing again. So no, thank you, but I think i’ll just stay as prepared as I can be.” Y/N ranted causing Mary to watch the woman with raised brows.

“You mean stay bloody stressed out?” The woman muttered under her breath causing Y/N to swipe her head towards her in a second, her eyes glaring. “Alright, alright, sorry. You can stay prepared and i’ll just sit here and drink the tea by myself.” This comment made the standing woman sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. She moved to throw herself on the couch beside her friend, her eyes downcast on her hands as she fiddled with them in anticipation.

“I’m sorry Mary, I’m just feeling a little, well, wound up like a spring. I hate waiting.” She mumbled. Her friend reached out to her with a smile, grasping at her hands in her lap, giving them a gentle squeeze with her own.

“I know you do. It’ll happen soon I’m sure, we’ve just gotta take it for a little longer. Then you can get your chance to go out there, guns blazing like the crazy woman you are.”

“I mean, that isn’t the main reason but it’ll certainly look pretty cool when I do.” The women shared a laugh before falling into a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time as she turned back to Mary. “I don’t think tea is really to my liking. You wanna go get a real drink?”

The two woman had shimmied their way into their dress uniforms, choosing the skirts over the pants unlike usual. After they took a little bit of time to doll themselves up for a little bit of fun, they met up with some of their fellow female troopers who they’d called shortly before getting ready to ask them if they too would like to come to the local bar. The group met at the house Cassandra had been staying at as it was just around the corner from where they were headed. They all talked cheerily to each other, Y/N and one of the other woman Lula striking up a conversation about the latter dame’s fascination with Sergeant Talbert. The former giggled away as the other chatted animatedly with a gleam of adoration in her eyes, reminding her of herself when she thought of her own man of her dreams. Her heart bet harder for a moment as she thought of earlier that day where her brain had brought up the delusion of said man being within the group of fellow paratroopers on the airstrip. But it couldn’t have been him, could it?

Y/N was pulled from her thoughts as they arrived at the bar, loud laughter and voices heard from inside. She stepped forward first, throwing the door open and wandering inside. Several of the men had paused what they were doing and turned to the group of dames who sauntered in like a dream. Edward, who had been previously occupied by a game of darts that he had sadly lost just as the women walked in, glanced at Y/N with a growing grin. A low whistle left his lips as she made eye contact with her friend across the bar, her eyes rolling at the man’s antics.

“HEY ANGEL, COME HERE.” The man had yelled to her, waving his hand to beckon her over as several of the men around him turned to look at the vision that strode over to them, lips pulled back in a smirk.

“I’M COMING EDWARD! DON’T YELL AT ME.” The woman in question replied in a similarly loud holler, causing several of the men to chuckle as they heard his real name leave her mouth. She made her way over, Heffron offering her a full glass of beer as she reached him, one which she happily took. She looked at him with raised brows as she took a sip, her eyes darting around him to those beside him.

“You gonna introduce me to your friends or am I just going to stand here like an idiot?” She asked, running the back of her hand across her top lip to clean the residual alcohol off of it. The only familiar man in the group, Lieutenant Compton, chuckled at the woman’s comment while another smirked.

“Yeah Babe, introduce us to the pretty dame won’t you?” The one with the smirk said, nudging the man in the back in encouragement. Edward rolled his eyes at the new found nickname before turning to the woman who stood with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Babe?”

“New nickname, i’ll explain later.”

“Right. Well go on Babe, introduce me before I do it myself.”

“Well the smirking bastard is George Luz, and this is Joe Toye and you already know Lieutenant Compton.” He said pointing out each man as he went. “Fellas, this is Corporal L/N but most of the lads just call her Angel, the best damn shot you’ll ever see.”

“Please don’t call me Corporal L/N, it makes me feel weird. And I’m not so sure about that last statement anymore, i’ve been hearing this Shifty Powers might give me a run for my money.” Y/N spoke with a cheeky grin before taking a sip of her drink.

“Well he ain’t seen you in action yet so guess we’ll wait and see.” Buck spoke up from behind Babe, having seen the woman on the range shooting target after target with precise accuracy. The other two men looked mildly impressed, Luz stepping forward to stand in front of her, her eyes turning to him after giving Buck a nod of thanks at his praises.

“You are the Luz i’ve been hearing so much about from Penny then huh?” She said, cocking an eyebrow as she recalled the multiple times she listened to one of the girls, Penelope, talk about the jokester, her cheeks turning red every time she did which made Y/N smirk. Luz grinned at the comment, his eyes flicking to the woman in question who approached with the other women over Y/N’s shoulder.

“Oh she’s been talking about me now has she?” He asked in amusement as they finally reached them, his question pointed at said woman. Penny turned a shade of crimson as she always did, the same smirk pulling to Y/N’s lips.

“Honestly, she never bloody stops.” She said, nudging an elbow into the girl’s side. Penny giggled as George stepped towards her to whisper something in her ear while whisking her away to sit away from the group. Those remaining watched the two bounce off together, a chuckle leaving several of their mouths. Y/N turned back to Babe while taking another gulp of her drink.

“Shall we sit? My feet are killing me in these bloody shoes.” She uttered, flashing the small heeled shoes of her dress uniform. Babe nodded, and the group of men and a few of the women wandered over to a table to sit. The woman sat down next to Joe, interested in speaking to the man as he had yet to say much.

“So tell me Joe, where did this new nickname for little Eddie here come from?” She questioned as she turned to the man who in turn sent a flash of a smirk at Babe over her shoulder before looking back to her and explaining the happenings that led to the name. He managed to get several giggles out of her as he spoke, her eyes never leaving him, and by the end of the story, Y/N was almost falling off her chair laughing.

“Now that is a good way to earn a name aye Babe?” She said, jabbing the man in the side. He huffed at her, downing the rest of his drink before looking at her.

“Whatever you say Angel.” The woman rolled her eyes in response before too downing her drink, turning towards the man with her empty glass.

“Another drink?” She questioned. He nodded, sending a ‘please’ her way before she stood to her feet. She turned to Joe and asked the same, receiving a smile and a nod.

The woman had been wandering back from the bar with several pints in her hands that she had been balancing carefully against her body when she saw him. She held herself back from letting go of the glasses in shock as she saw his familiar features, her feet bringing her to a halt for a moment as she gazed in awe. It was him. He was here. She couldn’t stop herself from moving her eyes over his face, taking in the way he chuckled loudly while sitting at a table with some of her fellow replacements. She shook herself from her daze as she realised she’d been staring for too long for it to be normal before she pushed herself back to her previous seat with her friends, the feeling of apprehension setting into her bloodstream.

Her cheeks held a pink flush to them when she arrived, catching the attention of the women across from her, pulling their attention away from Buck who they had been speaking with. She placed the pints down on the table, nearly dropping them in her slightly stressed state, causing Babe and Joe to look up at her.

“Y/N? You okay?” Cassandra asked from in front of the woman, making her jump ever so slightly from her daze. Her eyes flickered over at her for a moments, nodding her head furiously to which everyone at the table looked at in confusion at the unusually flustered state she seemed to be in.

“Yeah, I’m good, great, some may say even grand.” She mumbled to her friend nervously, her teeth tugging her bottom lip between them.

“You’re all flustered and...not acting like you. Was it that sergeant you were just staring at?” Mary butted in suddenly, her hair bouncing against her neck as she looked between Y/N and the dark haired sergeant who stood beside one of the others they knew to be Bull Randleman. The woman’s face turned an even more violent shade of red as she stumbled over her words.

“Uh, no, no. And I was simply looking, is that a crime?” Babe, Joe and Buck all watched in amusement, simply thinking the woman had a newfound crush on their friend known as Bill Guarnere. If only they bloody knew.

“You know him or something? You kinda have that look on your face like you know him.” The woman asked, catching Cassandra’s gaze as they both focussed back in on Y/N with curiosity covering their features.

“Don’t be ridiculous Mary, as I said, I was simply looking.” Y/N pushed, pulling a grin to her lips to mask the unease that settled over her, bluffing a confident face until she met the eyes of the man she had previously been staring at as she glanced back over her shoulder. “Ah shit.”

His lips seemed to move as if he was whispering something, but with so much distance between them, she couldn’t hear a thing. She came to the conclusion that he was saying her name under his breath in confusion as her gaze watched his lips for a moment, before taking in the brows that creased heavily over his eyes while he looked her up and down.

“Are you sure you don’t know him?” Mary questioned one more time, almost sure she had been right the first time around. By this point, all the men at the table were watching the exchange with mild confusion, eyes flickering back and forth between the women.

“Nope, absolutely not. Never seen him before in my life.” Y/N spoke confidently, but she was lying of course, trying her best to pretend she hadn’t seen him in hopes that maybe he was just a figment of her imagination and that she wasn’t about to get a verbal hiding like she was almost certain she was about to.

“Y/N!?” She suddenly heard his voice over the chattering of men and women in her ear. She gulped as her eyes widened slightly, turning her head further away to look at the drink in her hand before smiling at her friends who all watched her expectantly. “Y/N, DON’T IGNORE ME!” Y/N could hear him again, and this time he seemed closer as his voice grew louder, causing the woman to take a large gulp of her beverage.

“Well he definitely knows you, and he does not look happy at all.” Cassandra mentioned with a small smile and a raised eyebrow. “He’s coming over.”

“Oh God, why me?” The woman said while glancing up at the ceiling as if He might answer her question, yet she got nothing in return. She resorted to taking several larger gulps of her drink, wincing at the taste of it slipping down her throat. Babe and Joe watched from either side of her in curiosity, completely blind sided as to what the hell was going on.

“Y/N!” The voice came from directly behind her, shortly before a hand came out to grasp her shoulder firmly. She spun around, throwing up a mask of slight indifference to cover her nervous state.

“Oh my gosh, Bill! I didn’t see you there.” She said, trying to hold the shake of her voice as a tight smile pulled at her lips. Bill scoffed at her, creasing his brow even more than it had been previously.

“You were looking straight at me bunny. I think you'd be able to recognise my face after knowing me for over half your life.” Her face flushed darker again at the nickname he’d given her as a child, embarrassed by the use of the title she so desperately disliked. She was a woman now, and it bugged her to no end that he continued to treat her as if she was still that little girl that use to follow him and her brother around.

“Don’t call me that.” She seethed through gritted teeth as she stared up at him, slowly rising from her seat. He laughed at her, having kept his gaze on her since he walked over.

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want bunny. What are you gonna do about it?” He challenged as he always did, knowing he’d get a rise out of her like he had when they were kids. She reached behind her to grab at her beer before downing the rest of it before placing the empty glass rather harshly back on the table, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You really wanna find out big boy?” She pushed, stepping towards him so they were nose to nose, neither speaking another word as they squinted at each other. It was so sudden when smiles erupted onto both of their faces and they threw their arms around each other, Bill lifting Y/N off the floor as he squeezed her hips. The men at the table continued to watch in confusion while the women glanced at each other with smirks, knowing they had been right the entire time.

“Ah you’re the same little spitfire of a kid huh. Missed my little bunny rabbit.” Bill said, the comment causing another buzz of annoyance to thread itself into her stomach. It hurt her in all honesty, to know that she would always be his best friend’s little sister and nothing more meanwhile she would see him as so much more than her brother’s closest mate. She let out a force laugh to cover her unease before pulling herself out of his arms. He looked down at her when she did, the smile slowly dropping from his face as he glanced down at her jump wings and the rank she wore on her arm. “Tell me you didn’t do something stupid.”

“I think you’ve already figured out I have Bill.” She mumbled back, glancing down at her hands for a moment before their conversation was interrupted.

“Wait so Angel does know Gonorrhea after all or..?” Babe muttered not so quietly behind Y/N to which she rolled her eyes and pivoted her body to look at him.

“Well done for figuring that one out Babe, and so quickly too, you’re a real genius.” She uttered sarcastically at him causing him to scrunch his face up into a cheeky sneer before giving her a gentle smack to the hip which she returned it with a whack across the back of his head. She pondered his words a bit more thoughtfully before her face screwed up in confusion.

“Hold on. Gonorrhea?” She asked, flicking her eyes between the man who was seated and the one still standing before her. He raised a brow, glancing at a smirking Toye over her shoulder.

“Angel?” He countered to which she nodded her head in understanding of it being just another silly nickname.

“Gotta say, it’s worse than any name I’ve ever given you, wouldn’t you say Billy Bob?” The woman teased, jabbing him in the chest causing him to roll his eyes.

“I really thought I left your annoying little ass behind.” The man said. She screwed up her face and glanced down over her shoulder at her skirt.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it little.” She mumbled, causing a grin to spread over his lips. Across the table, the two other women glanced at each other with smirks once again as Cassie had taken in the look of confusion of the men surrounding them and nudged Mary to look. Babe looked the most confused while Joe just watched the newly reacquainted pair out of the corner of his eye as he sipped at his beer. Heffron finally straightened his back and cleared his throat quietly.

“So you guys gonna get round to explaining how you know each other, cause I would really like to know?” Y/N let out a sigh through her nose, glancing quickly at Bill before turning back to the table of friends.

“Bill is my brother’s best friend.”

***

Y/N’s leg would have bounced the entire flight into Holland if it hadn’t have been for Sergeant Talbert’s hand coming to rest gently on her knee to comfort her. Before you start asking questions about whether this was appropriate or not, the two had quickly become close friends over the last few weeks of training together in England, with Tab learning fast that the woman was one of his best soldiers. The man had already come to realise that the platonic back and forth flirting was not going to get him any closer to the woman’s bedroom and had instead let their friendship blossom, realising that she was a presence he could feel completely relaxed in.

As someone who had already come to know the feeling of jumping into a war he felt completely unprepared for, he knew the thoughts and emotions that were swirling through her head as she sat beside him, fidgeting with her fingers. He leant over to her, squeezing the hand that was on her knee to grab her attention.

“Everything’s going to be fine Y/N. I promise.” He spoke as clearly as he could in her ear, which she responded with a nod of her head, tugging a tense smile to her face. His words of comfort had reminded her of similar words Bill had spoken to her just before they had separated that morning. Everything is going to be fine Y/N, you’ve got this. He had whispered that into her hair when he hugged the girl, trying his best to hold himself back from saying more.

After sharing their past relations with everyone who had sat at the table with them and after Bill had taken the time to come to terms with her presence in the form of borderline shouting at her in frustration until he felt better, the two had held each other in a tight embrace, one Y/N was shocked to be taken into. There had been many times in the past where he had hugged the woman, yes, but this felt different; it felt so very different. Y/N had always had a thing for Bill, but it had once just been one of those school girl crushes that she had expected to come and then go. However, when she’d eventually grown older, and her brother had left home and she only saw Bill when he was invited over for holiday meals with her family, it had become very very clear that this was not the case at all. As she stood in the current moment as a woman and no longer a little girl, she had felt her emotions change from just the flushing cheeks to the clenching heart beating out of her chest.

Seeing him here and now in a time where she really hadn’t expected it had sent her spiralling for a moment, but he had quickly reminded her why she felt such feelings for him as he saw the tension in her shoulders when Lipton made the announcement and reached to squeeze her hand or when they sat in their briefing with Winters and he kept his body as close to her as possible, his arm slung over her shoulder. He was a true nostalgic comfort for her, and she had marvelled in the fact that she felt lucky to find such a thing in the place that she found herself in, a place of constant discomfort and lack of certainty.

Her mind consumed itself for a moment of distraction until suddenly Tab removed his hand from her leg and ordered them all to stand. She let reality come rushing back as she pushed herself from her seat and began their pre-jump procedure. The switch of crimson to emerald made the breath catch in her throat and the disappearance of Tab from in front of her made her eyes widen. She didn’t give herself any time to think any further as she threw her body from the door, the wind sweeping over her as the parachute deployed above her with a jolt. She sighed while she floated towards the ground, her eyes surveying everything she could see from her altitude.

Her feet touched the ground and using the momentum, she rolled backwards to slow her fall. She disconnected herself from her shoot before checking her equipment, ushering her squad to hurry as the rest of the company began to take off. Her eyes found Tab’s, her feet pulling her in his direction as they both took off towards the location of the Dutch town.

The accumulation of stress and anxiety wasn’t completed taken away by the time they found the town in celebration of their liberation, but it certainly gave way to some joy from the woman. Smiles pulled to her and Tab’s faces as he slung an arm around her shoulder while they walked into the crowd. Cheers from the Dutch locals was the only thing that could be heard as they wandered a little less fearful through them, the two friends pressed tightly against one another’s side.

“Now this is a welcome I can get behind.” Tab said as he let go of her to take a hold of couple of bottles that were passed to him, handing one to her while he took a sip. The woman who had given them to him leant forward and gave him a peck on the cheek before doing the same to the female trooper before she bounced off. Y/N snorted while she watched Tab’s eyes follow the pretty Dutch girl until she disappeared, a look of appreciation on his face.

“I can’t understand why Tab.” She uttered sarcastically, drawing his eyes back to her.

“Awh, don’t be jealous now Angel. I’ve got enough to go around.”

“Keep it in your pants Tiger, I don’t want whatever you’ve got to ‘go around’. Doc would go bright red in the face if I had to explain i’d caught something from you.” The woman teased causing the man to jab her in the side in retaliation. The man let out a cooing noise as he took a step even closer to her, opening his mouth to tease something back before he was interrupted.

“Y/N!” She heard from behind her, both heads turning to glance at who called to her. Bill came into view from the crowd, shoving his way through the women reaching out to kiss his face and the others offering him food and drink. His eyes fell on the other Sergeant who he hadn’t realised stood so close to the woman he had called out to. A small sliver of rage was felt in him as he took in the proximity between them, Tab’s hand being seen skimming the side of her hip as he lowered it from where he had been ready to place it. “Get lost will yah Tab?” He spoke rather rudely to the man, causing Y/N to scowl as she reached out to smack him upside the head.

“What the hell Bill?” She said, ready to say more when Tab placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.

“Don’t worry Angel, I should go and entertain some of these pretty Dutch dames while I have the chance. I’ve always got you around, but I don’t see them everyday. Gotta do what I have to.” He teased. Y/N let out a snorted laugh before grinning up at the man yet the way she looked at him sent another shock of anger to course through Bill’s veins as he clenched his jaw.

“Go get ‘em Tiger.” She encouraged, slapping the man on his backside as she sent him off with a cheeky grin on his face. The remaining man let out a grumble as she watched the other man walk off, her gaze moving to him when she heard it. “And what’s your problem, you big grump?” She asked, taking a step closer to him. He moved his eyes away from the crowd and back to her, just staring at her for a moment with a raised brow.

“Well I just came to make sure you weren’t getting lost when I saw you hanging around with pretty boy.”

“And there’s a problem with that because..?”

“I’m sure you know how he is Y/N...” The man said slowly, not quite sure how to word it quite right.

“He’s my friend and also the sergeant I’m working under. I’m quite certain I know what you’re insinuating but it’s not going to happen Bill so just stop.” The woman said, popping one of her hips out as she crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised at the man in front of her.

“I’m just making sure you’re being aware of it cause I don’t want you getting hurt.” Bill spoke, holding one of his hands up to place on her upper arm, one which she swerved and looked at in angered disgust.

“Who are you supposed to be, my fucking brother?” Y/N was definitely angry by this point, the same nagging feeling of being seen as his little sister figure coming back in full force, sending waves of emotion over her.

“Hey now, that’s not what I’m doing I’m just-” She cut him off from finishing his sentence as the rage took ahold.

“-Just trying to be my keeper? My protector? Well don’t. I don’t need you constantly breathing down my neck and holding my hand because you feel like you owe it to my brother. I can do whatever the hell I like, whoever the hell I like, and ain’t nobody, including you, gonna do anything about it.” Her nostrils flared as she finished the statement, eyes burning with a hidden malice that she had been holding in for a while. How dare he act like he has any right, she wasn’t his little sister and god knows she wasn’t in any way, shape or form his to protect as much as she wished she was.

Bill stood confused, his mouth open in silent protest to the comment, unable to actually form any words to reply. He watched as her eyes seemed to dart around the crowd near them before her face seemed to light up with something akin to mischief. She glanced back at him with a smirk before taking a few steps away from him into the crowd, her eyes filled with a need to prove her point. She turned away from him as she approached a local man who looked a similar age to her, a matching grin on his face as she reached forward to plant a kiss to his cheek. The Dutch man continued to smile down at her while she let her focus wander back to Bill who stood seething in the spot she left him. He felt the rage boiling over as he watched her let the man kiss her cheek back, his fists clenching at his side. How dare this random idiot touch her, how dare he.

With a shake of his head, Bill took a couple of steps back in the direction he had come and took off without another glance. The growing smirk on Y/N’s face let her know she’d won, though she wasn’t quite certain why his reaction had been filled with such anger. She shrugged it off and let go of the local man in front of her, sending him one last gentle smile before skipping off to find her squad, adamant that they were likely going to be told to move out as soon as they could.

***

Y/n’s first taste of combat was weirdly exactly how she imagined it, and finally she was thankful for her body always keeping her in fight or flight mode for so long. The adrenaline coursed through her veins like bounding river rapids, her finger bouncing off the trigger in quick stutters, her bullet finding its mark every time she let one loose. She stood out in the open along a gravel road that lead into the town they were trying to get through, orders being yelled from her throat as she watched several soldiers tremble in fear at the thought of being caught in this fight. Tab was by her side, firing upon the enemy that tried their best to reach them, his voice screaming for her to get their squad moving. She took a deep breath, let off one last shot before throwing herself down the side of the grassy ditch, grabbing at the first trooper she’d come across. With a quick glance at his face, she noting him as one of the replacements she’d trained with, all wide eyed and frightened. She wanted to sympathise for him but with the eminent threat they faced, she could only yank him up by his webbing and push him up the bank.

“MOVE IT PRIVATE! YOU ARE SITTING DUCKS HERE!” Y/N yelled at him before moving to shove the next man up. Some of the men surrounding her had stared at her with looks of awe, the sun creating a halo around her head as she stood above them, throwing them one by one out into the open. That was, until she opened her mouth to yell at them once again. Most of them finally pushed themselves to get up, sure that facing the enemy would be less scary than having this beast of a woman scream in their faces. She jumped back out of the dip on the side of the road, several of her soldiers running out from behind her as they all bounded forward together.

Y/N would have been lying if she said she wasn’t happy to see Bill running around the town, his squad behind him as they ran between buildings to use as cover. The man had been seemingly hesitant to talk to her over the last day since he’d stormed away from her, something that caused more confusion to settle in the woman’s body. Why he was that mad about what she said, she didn’t know, and if he was going to bother talking to her about it, she also didn’t know. One thing was for certain though, she was going to do her best to not let it bother her, to not let him distract her from doing what she needed to.

That evidently didn’t last long as she watched him yell orders at his squad to follow him. They hesitated for a moment, and honestly it was a good thing for once that they had because the second Bill had made his way across the road to another building, he had been pinned down by a machine gun. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him only just make it behind the brick wall of the house he’d run to, while the one man who had followed was shot dead on the spot. She saw the remainder of Bill’s squad, especially the replacements, start to lose it, unsure of what to do except wait and hope for the best. The woman didn’t hesitate as she swept across the distance to the soldiers, and Penny, being one of the squad’s troopers, gave her a relieved look when she saw the woman sprint towards them, knowing she’d be able to set them straight. She arrived seconds later, sliding along the grass on her knees to avoid the spray of bullets that had been aimed at her.

“THANK GOD YOU’RE HERE. WE’RE CUT OFF FROM OUR SERGEANT! WHAT THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?” Penelope screamed to her over the noise of gunfire. Y/N’s eyes assessed the space around them, trying to formulate a plan as quickly as she could while the squad covered her. Her eyes landed on Grant who stood with his own squad not far from where she’d just come from, his eyes meeting hers for a moment.

“YOU SEE SERGEANT GRANT? YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE THE MEN AND GET THEM TO HIM, HE’LL TELL YOU WHAT HE NEEDS! THERE’S NO POINT IN TRYING TO GET YOU ALL TO GUARNERE, IT’LL BE A BLOODBATH WITH THAT MACHINE GUN STILL GOING!” Y/N yelled back, making sure she was loud enough for the whole squad to hear her. Most of them nodded, while one of the corporals stepped forward, bouncing a few more ideas off of her.

“-AND WHAT ABOUT GUARNERE?” The man questioned causing her to glance across the way to where Bill was pressed up tightly against the brick wall behind him. Her heart stammered at the sight, and she had to swallow down the stress that grasped at her chest as she gulped away the bile creeping up her throat.

“LEAVE HIM TO ME! NOW GO, LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE GOT SUPPRESSING FIRE AND SUBSTANTIAL COVER FROM GRANT!” She said, pulling her focus away from Bill and back to the squad that needed orders. The corporal nodded at her in thanks before gathering the others to make a break for Grant across the street. She watched them go for a moment, taking a deep breath as she turned back towards Bill. His eyes caught hers while she stood from her kneeled position, the look on her face causing the man’s heart to sink.

“Y/N DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” He screamed across to her but he was too late as she peaked her head around the building, taking a moment to assess her options before she stepped out, only slightly in the open as she took aim at the machine gunners on the roof of a nearby house. She managed to get the A-gunner, before she noticed a tank moving into view, trailing down the road towards her. She stepped back, now covered by the brick of the house, her eyes glancing up at Bill.

“YOU FUCKING CRAZY?” He screamed at her, his eyes wild as he stared at her.

“YEAH, A LITTLE BIT!” She replied with a cheeky grin, her breath coming from her mouth in heaved bursts. Bill rolled his eyes at her antics, knowing full well the extent of the woman’s chaotic mind. “YOU STILL MAD AT ME?” She asked him while popping her head around the wall to see that the tank was no longer trailing towards them.

“EVEN IF I WASN’T, YOU’VE JUST GIVEN ME MORE REASON TO BE.”

“I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO ANGRY AT ME RIGHT NOW SO JUST-FUCK SAKE. JUST REIN IT IN FOR A GOD DAMN SECOND. YOU’VE GOTTA WORK WITH ME RIGHT NOW BILL, WE’VE GOTTA BE A TEAM.” Y/N shouted across the space between them, pushing her back harshly against the brick wall behind her as more bullets came down on her. She flicked her head over her shoulder to pinpoint where the enemy fire was coming from before raising her weapon to fire, eyes trained intently on the multiple German figures that sprinted towards them.

"YOU TRIED TO KILL ME ONCE SO I’M A LITTLE UNSURE HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT COMMENT." The man countered, and if she hadn’t been needing to focus so carefully, the woman would have rolled her eyes at the man. Her mind did, however, flash to think fondly of the time she’d decided to use the kitchen cleaver as a throwing axe when she thought she was home alone and he’d given her a fright by walking up behind her. Oh, what a time.

"WELL MAYBE WE’RE JUST ENEMIES TO LOVERS." She screeched sarcastically, pulling herself away from her thoughts while raining hell with the rifle in her hands. His eyes darted away from the battlefield before them, landing on her for a few moments, taking in the way the hair that had fallen out of her braids flowed in the wind created from the rifle cracking back and forth with every shot. He looked at the way her bottom lip rested against the hand that held the pistol grip, and the way her eyes showed such focus. He noticed the way the sun bared down on her, giving her an ethereal glow. He almost laughed, thinking of the nickname Babe had explained to him, yet he now saw it for himself; she was an angel indeed, his very own angel of death.

“Now that I can get behind.” He mumbled to himself in response to her comment as he looked back to the German company that she’d been picking people off, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the crossfire around them.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE.” Y/N yelled across to him and a moment later, he’d made his way to her with little hesitation, throwing himself against the wall beside her. “NICE OF YOU TO SHOW UP.” She teased, hitting her hip against his without looking away from the German’s running at them. “NOW GO! I’LL COVER YOU!” The woman continued causing him to scrunch his face up. He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘Ain’t no way am I going first and leaving you behind’ but he didn’t get the chance as she directed more fire power towards the enemy, her flame filled eyes glancing to him over her shoulder for a second. “MOVE IT GUARNERE, STOP MESSING AROUND. I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU.” She screamed at him, covering him from the fire fight that headed their way.

“ALRIGHT. JESUS WOMAN.” He yelled back, moving from the house he had been pressing his back to and taking off in a sprint. Shots were fired in his direction, and thankfully he was able to dodge them while Y/N gunned their firers down before they could hit their mark. He glanced behind him to see her sprinting the gap between buildings, a sigh of relief sounding from his lips as she made her way towards him.

“WHY ARE YOU SLOWING DOWN? FUCKING MOVE.” She pushed as she came up behind him, using the length of her rifle to shove him forward. He took action in a second, moving towards the trucks with speed.

“DAMMIT BUNNY, YOU’D THINK YOU WERE THE FUCKING SERGEANT.” He yelled as they ran to which she rolled her eyes at.

“WELL IF YOU STARTED ACTING MORE LIKE ONE, I WOULDN’T HAVE TO!”

They continued to run towards where the trucks they’d come on, their feet making contact harshly with the ground. Gunfire whistled past them as the noise enveloped everything around them, ears ringing with each hit of a mark. Bill was able to link up with a few more boys from his platoon as they all retreated together, the trucks now directly in front them before he turned back to shout something witty to the woman, his mouth already open in anticipation before it closed shut within an instant. The place she had previously occupied was empty, and the clear view of the road to the town showed no trace of the woman, only the last trailing men to reach their escape vehicles. His breath caught in his throat as he turned several 360 degrees, his eyes taking in every face around him to see if she had potentially passed him to get on before him.

Bill let out a shout of her name, and with no answer he yelled a second time. His heart stammered roughly in his chest as many what ifs dawned on him. Tab was one of the last men to make it back to the trucks, short puffs of air leaving his mouth as he prepared himself to get up the ladder. Bill reached out to him before he got the chance, grabbing at his webbing and giving him a jolted shake.

“Have you seen Y/N? Where is she?” He said desperately. Floyd shook his head no, concern setting onto his features.

“I assumed she was with you? Last time I saw her, she was running off in your direction.” He uttered back, his eyes glancing back to the town he was now concerned his friend was still in.

“She-she was right behind me-FUCK. Y/N WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” He yelled anxiously. One of the other men tugged at Tab’s shirt as a final call to jump on the truck sounded. The man looked up at those on the vehicle who all sat tired and anxious to leave before he glanced back at Bill.

“Bill. Bill we gotta go. We gotta get out of here.”

“How can you say that huh? You’re just gonna abandon her? How the fuck could you even think like that?”

“We cannot stay here Guarnere and you know that. We have to get the fuck out of here or we’re all fucked. She’s likely fine, maybe she got on one of the other trucks while you weren’t paying attention.” Tab pushed the man, his hands moving to grab at the side of the truck as he hauled himself up onto it and held out a hand for the other to grab. “Come on Bill! She ain’t going to want you if you’re dead now is she?” He said, causing the final straw to break as Bill reached out to grasp at his hand rather harshly, pulling himself up.

“You better be fucking right or that pretty boy face of yours is going to fucking get it.” He said through clenched teeth, his eyes hardened into a glare. Tab held himself back from rolling his eyes as he sat down, the truck jolting while it began to move. Bill looked away from the other man as soon as he sat down, his eyes instantly moving to the town they were leaving behind, his gaze on the several pillars of smoke that billowed into the sky. The sound of gunfire was getting quieter but he could still see the several dotted figures of the enemy scattered around the outskirts of the town, hunting around the bodies of the American boys they left behind. His eyebrows knitted together along his forehead as he threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Please, for the love of all things good, you better be alive and safe Y/N.

The woman in question was at least one of those things, thankfully. As night fell she continued to lay as still as she could under layers of hay that sat in the barn she had snuck into. Her head throbbed from the hit she’d taken on the side of her helmet, the pressure of it having knocked her out for a minute or two. It had been enough time to seperate her from Bill, German soldiers having cut her escape route off. Thankfully, she was able to crawl into a hidden side ditch until they’d moved away from that side of the town before she made a staggered run for the barn and hid herself away. If it hadn’t have been for the fact that she’d felt woozy and was struggling to hold onto consciousness, the woman would have broken down in tears, even more so when Bull had shown up, alive and kicking. He’d checked her head to make sure there was no copious amounts of bleeding, and had tried to keep her awake as he was sure she had a concussion. Unfortunately, the adrenaline levels in the woman’s body were decreasing by the second and her eyes couldn’t help but droop to a close, and against Bull’s demands, the woman had slipped into sleep.

Y/N woke up the next day, dazed and confused as she realised she was pulled over someone in a piggyback, her thighs held tightly by two hands while her wrists had been tucked into the person’s webbing so she didn’t slip. She would have freaked out if she hadn’t recognised the cigar she could see poking out the side of the man’s mouth. The woman sat up slightly, only to groan and slump back down onto his shoulder as her head throbbed painfully.

“Careful lil darlin’. You’ve likely got yourself a nasty concussion, so take it easy. I’ll have you back with Easy in no time.” Bull said, turning his head over his shoulder to look at her. She looked up at him tiredly before nodding slowly.

“Thanks Sergeant Randleman.” She mumbled to him, realising her voice was raw and scratchy from all the yelling she did during the assault the day before.

“Call me Bull.” He countered causing a smile to draw itself across her lips.

“Okay, well thanks Bull.” The woman spoke just as the sight of a truck pulling up could be seen, her mind holding confusion as she hadn’t realised it was approaching. Bull carried her to the jeep and placed her down gently on the back seat before jumping in next to her, conversing with the prior occupants as to if she was okay. Bull glanced at her in concern, mumbling to them that they needed to get her back to see a medic as fast as they could. She ended up leaning on the man as the vehicle pulled away, her head aching harshly. She squeezed her eyes open and shut several times to try and ease the tension that her skull held, but eventually gave up, curling into Bull’s side for comfort as she held back tears.

Y/N had fallen asleep again it would seem, as she woke to several familiar voices, all filled with concern as she felt hands grab at her gently. She slowly opened her eyes to see she was once again held in Bull’s arms while he lifted her from the jeep. She tapped him carefully on the bicep to put her down on her feet causing him to send her a cautious look before doing so, however, refusing to move his arms from around her back as he held her in place while she swayed on her feet. She took a moment to gather her balance before she looked up in front of her. The woman almost jumped in shock as she realised they were back with the company, faces of her worried friends staring back at her. Clearing her throat that she knew from earlier would be rough, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Tadaaa, I’m alive.” Y/N jested causing most of them to roll their eyes, discreet smiles pulling to their faces. Mary stepped forward towards her, her arms raised to gather the woman in them.

“You are crazy, i swear.” The woman spoke softly, blinking several times to clear the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve been told that several times recently, maybe I should seriously start to worry.” Y/N spoke, her chin tucked over the other woman’s shoulder before she pulled away at the sound of someone making their way noisily to the front of the crowd of troopers.

“WHERE IS SHE? I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL HER.” She heard him yell over the group of soldiers causing her to roll her eyes as she leant back against Bull’s chest again, the throbbing in her head sending spikes of pain down her limbs. Bill emerged to the front of the group, his head turning wildly until they landed on her figure. He took a moment to look at her, gazing at her dirty skin, tired eyes and the small trickle of blood that he could see trailing the side of her neck. He stepped forward slowly, taking small steps to her, before stopping directly in front of her.

“Now who’s the one with murderous tendencies?” She questioned in a quiet voice, her drooping eyes looking up at him for a moment before she pulled herself off of Bull and into Bill’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she placed her full weight on him, her arms loosely dangling around his waist. She sighed quietly into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent as she did, before leaning towards his ear to whisper something to him. “Just because i’m hugging you right now doesn’t mean we aren’t having a serious talk about why the hell you’re so mad at me. I just really needed a hug.” The man chuckled into her hair as his hands moved to grip at her hips as he pulled away, holding onto her weight so she didn’t stumble.

“I’ll take your word for it Bunny. Just don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?” He said, giving her hips a squeeze as he spoke.

“Promise Bill.” She whispered back to him, a gentle smile on her lips.

“And next time you’re going fucking first.”

***

The two weren’t able to get a moment to speak alone until a few days later, the constant movement of the company making it hard for anyone to do anything. And even then, the only reason they got a second to talk is because they forced it, with the yelling voice and the rising tension causing everyone in the room to run for the hills. They were like a ticking time bomb, and every time they weren’t able to speak about everything that had happened, the closer they got to exploding; I guess they had finally reached the end of the wick.

By now, Y/N’s concussion was feeling a lot better, though the dull throb did seem to come back on occasion. This was, in fact, one of the reasons the two had ended up in a screaming match, even against Eugene’s wishes for her to stay away from loud noises at any moment that she could. That morning, she had volunteered for a patrol, one which she went on with Liebgott and Alley. When things went sour and the latter man got hit badly, everyone had shot into action. Bill wouldn’t have had a word to say to the woman if everything had gone well, but with the outcome being so intense, the clenching feeling in his chest brought in a certain kind of anger; the protective kind. They both stood almost nose to nose, yelling at each other, Bill for her being reckless and Y/N for him being suffocating. The two hadn’t even realised at first that they had scared everyone from the room until the door swung shut loudly causing them both to jump.

“I said this before Bill, you aren’t my protector and you’re not my personal body guard. Stop pretending like you’re anything but my brother’s best mate!” The woman pushed, frustration clear in her voice as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not trying to be, for fuck sake. You just can’t help yourself but being reckless and stupid. You could have gotten hurt out there Y/N, all cause you think you need to prove something.” He countered back, equally as frustrated and pissed off as she was. The woman let out a mix of a screech and a groan as she threw her hands out in front of her, clenching her hands open and close while trying to fight the urge to smack something.

“Stop treating me like a child! I’m not a little girl anymore.” Y/N called, her voice desperate to be heard as she was tired of this everlasting circle. The man paused for a second, no longer pacing in his spot as he just stared at her. He took in the way she was clenching her hands, and how her teeth tugged at her bottom lip that he was sure at this point she had destroyed from chewing on. He gazed at her eyes that constantly flickered back and forth between him and the ground, taking in the way they seemed to glisten with tears he hoped would not fall; god how he hated seeing her cry. Bill took a deep breath, his stomach clenching as he opened his mouth to reply to her.

“Trust me, it’s been a long time since i’ve looked at you as being my boy’s annoying little sister.” He said, his voice a lot quieter than it had been previously. Y/N froze, only semi sure of what he was insinuating, confusion taking over the rest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She asked, her voice slightly sharper than she meaner for it to be, yet she held her ground, squaring her shoulders off and crossing her arms to seem more sure of herself. Bill let out a short laugh of disbelief as he ran a hand over his face before turning back to look her in the eyes.

“It means I love you, you fucking idiot.” He said, throwing his arms up in the air in frustration before they fell back to his sides. If she thought she couldn’t freeze any more than she had before, she knew now that she could as she felt ice take over every blood cell in her body. She stood completely still until she realised she hadn’t taken a breath in a while, her lungs finally opening up to the oxygen around her as she forced her body to move again. She gulped while turning her gaze to him, her feet taking her the extra couple of steps he’d seemed to move away from her. Settling in the spot directly in front of him, she stared up into his eyes while he continued to watch her, taking in the look on her face which was giving nothing away. Just when he thought she was going to reach up and touch his face gently, her hand came down on his cheek in a slap, his face turning to the side ever so slightly. His jaw opened in confusion while he glanced at her out of the side of his eyes, a hand coming to rest on the place that she had just smacked.

“Don’t call me a fucking idiot.” She spat at him, her eyes squinting as they held their own accusations to the man. He went to say something, thinking she was going to completely glaze over the first half of his comment before he felt her grasp at his collar, pulling him down to her lips. Everything fell into place so quickly, their hands gripping at any part of each other they could reach as she threw her legs around his waist. They needed to hold each other close as they let out all their frustrations of one another, onto one another through their parted lips. Her hands came to knot into his hair as he squeezed at her thighs, their bodies tangled together messily. Y/N pulled back first, staring into his eyes when he opened them, her own glistening with things unsaid. He smiled up at her, one that she returned as she tangled her fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck.

“But I love you too, you fucking idiot.”

#once again I could have done better but having to see this in my drafts every day is killing me #so enjoy this semi mediocre fic that didn’t go quite how I wanted it too cause it was just getting to long #good news is I have ideas that I didn’t put in this one for another part sooo #part two anyone????#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fluff #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere #wild bill

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spicy-apple-pie · 2 years

Text

Oops dropped more Cassandra hcs

Casey has calmed down significantly with the Hamato’s. It’s due to many things, but most notably Draxum teaching her meditation and training with Raph.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s still very… passionate, but she just has more outlets

Speaking of Raph, they’re best friends.

Like I said, they train together. Raph prefers to train with Casey because she can take what he gives her and gives it right back.

They like to vent to each other too, or just talk about life and their stress.

They also patrol the streets of NYC, just the two of them. After they’re done, they go out for pizza.

Casey’s favourite pizza is the classic pepperoni.

She plays for the school’s hockey team as their goalie. She’s really good at it too.

She’s not that good in school tho. She finds it hard to sit still and listen all day. She relies on April and Donnie to help her study for stuff.

Her and April really wanted to get into the same school after high school (Sunita moved back to the hidden city because university is free there lol. They still hang out a lot tho)

They both got a scholarship, April for her journalism and Casey got an athletic scholarship.

April got her acceptance letter first and Casey was shitting bricks thinking she got rejected. She didn’t

She’s going to school for general education, but she doesn’t know what age she wants to work with yet.

She absolutely adores Casey Jr.

They don’t consider each other as mother and son so much, but Cass is very protective of him.

When she first learns about him, she’s super confused, and that’s how she comes out as a lesbian. And Casey Jr is just like “ya I know, I’m adopted lol”

The only time they really bring it up it’s to use it against each other.

“CASEY JONES JR IF YOU EAT THAT LAST SLICE YOU ARE GROUNDED!!”

“Oh, so you’re really going to let your own son starve to death? Despicable.”

The others try to keep the fact that the foot clan is the one who brought the kraang and that there were no survivors, but she does eventually find out.

She goes through a lot of emotions, some positive, but mostly negative. Ashamed of the fact that she could’ve helped bring the end of the world. Fear that she could’ve been there and kraangified. Grief for the people that she once considered family.

At one point, they find the Kraangified versions of her past senseis. They try to get through to them, but it wasn’t possible.

They send them off with a signed copy of Punch Chowder.

Splinter hates their guts for what they did to his family, to Casey. But he signs the copy because he knows that it’ll make Casey feel better.

Casey is really torn because she knows they weren’t good people, they weren’t good to her. But they took her in when no one else would. And really, they gave her the best family she could ever ask for.

Got really angsty at the end, but she has a family that actually cares for her and will look after her. God I love her so much.

Again, I do have more. I want to dive into her relationships with the turtles and splinter, but this is already long enough.

#save rottmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt cassandra jones #cassandra jones #rise cassandra #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt casey jones #tmnt fandom #rise baron draxum #rise april #sunita #rise raph #rise splinter #rise casey jr #how y’all feel about capril btw #cause I love it

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oddinary4bts · 1 year

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heiryung has me so curious i love me some good angst @_@

Gosh I reread the introduction - it's a letter Heiryung writes to Jungkook at some point in the future - and I want to cry HAHA it really is angsty. I was inspired by 25 21 for those of you that have watched this drama :')

Basically the setting is, Heiryung grew up in Korea, moved to America at sixteen and didn't part with Jungkook, her childhood best friend, on good terms at all. So it's enemies to lovers to you can hate me if you want, two people falling in love time and time again just to fall apart... I love this story so much

As for a snippet ->

She hadn’t seen him in years now, and they hadn’t parted on the greatest terms at all. His hair was longer than it had been when she had last seen him, and it was all ruffled, as if he too had been running around the park. Which would make sense, considering the athletic clothes he was clad in. His face was also… somewhat different, features sharper than they had been when they were teenagers. He still had the same mole under his mouth though, and it felt… comforting. When her gaze settled back on his, Heiryung remembered everything she hated about Korea. It was all right there in front of her.

Ask me questions about my current WIPs!

#heiryung x jungkook #maybe I should finish writing this #would it be something you guys want?#jungkook x oc #wip game #wip challenge #jungkook #aditi <3

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goldmended-blog · 5 years

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hey lads, i’m neal and this is ryan!! this intro went in like a hundred different directions when i was writing it so i apologize for that...

[ lorenzo zurzolo, 20 ] did you see RYAN JACOBSON's snap story last night? how do you think he plans to get through his JUNIOR year doing stuff like that? i’m sure his parents don’t mind, though. especially since RYAN can be so OBSERVANT + RESOURCEFUL. then again, he can be WITHDRAWN + JUDGMENTAL, so maybe they will mind after all? by the way, did you know his DAD is THE CEO OF BOEING? fuck it, at least their son is hot, his THIRD year is treating him well enough i suppose… [ neal, they/them, 21, est]

HISTORY (cw. injury, accidents, broken bones)

ryan grew up believing he was going to be a star, dreaming of the day when arenas would scream his name and fans would have his number plastered on their backs. but he did not grow up in lavish wealth, OBLIVIOUS his entire childhood of the millions attached to his name in a hefty trust fund. instead he was raised by his mother arianna in a modest enough home --or at least as modest as you can get-- in a california suburb just north of the bay area. a well-respected aerospace engineer, arianna never spoke much about his father, nor were there any signs of him in ryan’s life save for the checks that came every month. he learned early on to not ask questions and came to the conclusion around age ten that his birth had been less than ideal. that was that. if only...

they lived three doors down from a family from minnesota who moved there when he was SIX, the boys around his age were a god-send for his mother who was able to ryan let off energy and steam playing street hockey. street hockey turned into ice hockey soon enough, and against the odds of california hockey ryan absolutely fell in love. his talent for the sport become quite obvious as he grew older, playing his way onto various teams and at 16, being invited to the USNTDP ( us national team development program ) camp. he was accepted into the program and lived the best two years of his life in plymouth, living with a billet family and playing for the ntdp. he played his way through the ranks, signing a letter of intent for boston university and being drafted in the first round of the 2017 draft by the san jose sharks -- practically a dream come true. he played one season at bu before disaster struck...

the summer of 2017 wasn’t just the summer ryan was drafted, but the summer his father michael bolding suddenly decided to take avid interest in him. the exact circumstances, ryan still doesn’t know, but he still vividly remembers that dinner in early may. a lot of truths came out that night, some probably better kept hidden and the least of which being michael bolding was the ceo of boeing. it made a terrifyingly great deal of sense, but even more terrifying was the clear intent : michael bolding expected his son to follow in his footsteps, no matter the fact he’d barely had a fingerprint in his life since birth -- unless you count a check. ryan, of course, refused : he thought he could see his future ahead of him and it didn’t involved millions from a trust fund from a manipulative and absent father. and so, may turned to june and he was drafted; june to september and he played ncaa hockey.

the summer of 2018 was supposed to be about pushing himself, about having a good off-season to come into training camp in september and winning a job. instead, he spent three weeks in icu in a medically induced coma after a horrific accident nearly killed him. his right leg was completely shattered, resulting in metal supports and several grafts and permanent splints in his leg --- the result in the end was simple : it would be unlikely he would skate again and if he did, nearly impossible for him to reach anywhere near his past talent. oh, ryan tried : months and months of physical therapy that while did end with him on skates, certainly never would be good enough to get him to the show when it would’ve been hard enough completely healthy.

michael bolding paid ryan’s medical bills because arianna couldn’t and paved the way for his future at adams university with a clinical efficiency that has convinced ryan of some ulterior motive. call him paranoid, but the details surrounding his accident seem a bit too circumstantial to him, especially since he can’t remember anything from that night after leaving a party -- just waking up in the hospital. so yeah, he’s suspicious. while he has come mostly to terms with this new future, he’s definitely not ready to become michael’s little pawn either.

even in his pre-accident days, ryan had a knack for photography and telling stories and this is the route he’s chosen to take at adams --- and hey, if those investigative journalism classes can teach him anything useful... well...

MISC

ryan plays golf at adams, mostly because he has to. he’s okay at it, but definitely doesn’t love it. he’s still trying to skate and practice his skills when he can -- it hurts less now almost a year and a half after the accident. he also can surf.

photography was a big part of his mental recovery after the accident ; it helped to calm him and gave him a direction to look in life ( much more than his so-called father anyway ).

he’s withdrawn and very observant, prefers to watch things from the outside, even moreso after the accident, but do not mistake that for shyness.

only very close friends can call him ry

he mostly does photography for the school bulletin, but he does write occasionally.

this is his SECOND semester at adams. he started last spring semester and earned his current junior status by taking summer courses.

he’s bi. he’s vaguely aware of this fact.

oh yeah, he was an undersized defenseman when he played ( two-way game, absolute excellent skater )

5′11″

that’s it for now, i think --- so let’s get things going!!

#adamsintro #usually i'm more of a stickler for realism but #this really wanted to go this direction so...#here we are #me @ me: consider... angsty athlete

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no-psi-nan · 2 years

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The Most Dateable Dudes in Saiki K: Survey Results!

With 119 votes from viewers like you, we can finally crown the most dateable dude of the Saiki K main cast...

Congratulations to Kuboyasu Aren for being the most dateable, and to Nendo Riki for being a close second!

Fun fact: Nendo was actually ahead for most of the voting time!

Of course, we can’t leave out the rest of the Saiki K dudes, so here’s the lineup:

More statistics and voter comments under the cut! Thanks everyone for playing, and to everyone with the laugh-out-loud quotes: stop being funnier than me wtf.

From the main cast...

Saiki Kusuo (16)

he's just like me fr. we wouldn't date we'd just be in a qpr.

He cares

Give coffee jelly and best boifriend

im aroace and so is he so we can just not date eachother

He'll settle for the most average bitch: me.

I'm personally too old to date these high schoolers but Saiki is genuinely the most fun to hang out with, plus he's such a giving and caring person that he'd be a great partner to someone he could trust and that could make him feel human again. It's not saikis fault he exudes capybara vibes.

He's respectful and I like how he doesn't really have expectations for anyone. I would like to play a video game with him at some point in time or just read books in the same room without talking.

Because i love him (though aren is a close second)

He is really considering and caring even if he hides it. He can revive time for any objects and thats a huge help with cleaning and healthcare. And he never judge his friends so thats a huge anxiety relif. And he is ace

I love Saiki!!! Yeah!! Love that guy!!!

Will have no huge problems as his friend and in his proximity, will be in proximity often. focused on me and my problems while trying to escape from dating. Every day a new adventure

Saiki Kusuo (without powers) (2)

without his powers kusuo is just a little guy. so horribly out of touch in a way that isn't obvious but EXTREMELY funny + less psychic fuckery means i don't have to worry about the negatives, and it's not like i was going to expect anything like that from any other partner. plus we're both aspec. it will be a lavender marriage, except neither of us have a secret gay relationship on the side

Nendo Riki (24)

im aroace and he is too and i want to hang out

Himbo. Enough said.

Listen, I'm a kaido stan but the answer is literally nendo. He can cook. He's good w/ animals & kids. His face would scare away creepy guys. His brain is so empty it makes more room for ~love for friends~. All he had to do was get a haircut and the entire class found him irresistible. When love expert Imu told saiki her vision of the perfect man he literally pictured nendo before she mentioned a perm. Wake up people.

NO EXPLANATION NEEDEAD HE'S LITERALLY THE BEST. you just gotta keep it a secret from him 'cause he thinks dating is only for the bad stuff. or explain to him that it's not just for the bad stuff

The lesser of 10 evils

Best Boy ever

The propaganda posted yesterday was very convincing. Also he's genuine and kind

good cook, loyal, friendly, has personality, himbo

he would treat me well i think

hes the only one with the emotional maturity. Saikis too angsty. Kaidous wayyy to angsty. Hairo maybe, but hes never gonna have a good work life balance, he'll put his training over you being his partner. idk whod ever pick toritsuka. kuboyasu was literally in a gang, im gonna give him a bit to learn how to be a functioning member of society. saiko is a bitch. satous boring as fuck, i love him but not as a date. akechi has never learnt how to talk normally in his life, love him but that doesnt make him dateable

Nendo

Kind himbo

Big heart himbo who can cook

He's just gorgeous and manly, he's peak male performance

i was told to put him

is it not obvious?

nendo beloved, no thoughts

I need a weird guy in my life. I need a guy who will lick door handles with me.

tbh honest the most normal. He's only undatable bc he's gross but idk. kuboyasus a close second maybe

Can cook, loves animals, is athletic. The whole package except for his haircut.

he is kind :)

Kaido Shun (10)

He's super sweet, shy, throws himself in to protect people, and he's a chuuni dork and I think that's a feature not a bug 😌 Also his studious nerdy side is cute. I will stand by this.

I might be choosing kaidou bc I'm a lesbian and he's the most femm guy ngl

He's absolutely adorable and I feel like he would be reliable.

He be cute

idk bro i just like pathetic dudes. i feel like he'd be fun to play video games with and bond over our terrible moms lol

Least likely to cause me physical or psychological damage over the course of our relationship. He's so awkward with romance dates would probably just be LARPing Jet Black Wings, seriously doubt anything romantic would actually happen and y'know what I'm cool with that. I wanna rp as my edgy middle school OCs too cringe culture is dead

We have similar levels of goblin- I'd say saiki but that is the most aroace guy I've ever seen. Love to be in a qpr with him tho 👍

he's so pathetic <3

Hairo Kineshi (13)

i feel like this isn't even a question like??? He's the obvious right choice. He'd treat you right

he's nice :)

hes not my fave BUT hes the most normal if you don't count satou, and satou is a little TOO normal so itd be boring. also hes hot and popular and he would put a lot of effort into the relationship

Drinks respect women juice (unlike some), not stuck up nor unattractive

He's break my heart w the most motivational speech ever +_+

He's a good guy, he'd never lie, and would be his partner's biggest cheerleader.

Hairo is the most likely and reasonable option to choose out of all the Saiki K men. We all know how Saiki reacts to others trying to date him. Nendo's oblivious, and Kaido is very kind but hes not ready for romance. Toritsuka is.... Toritsuka. Saiko tries to buy people. Aren is too much of a try-hard. I can't really imagine how Touma or Satou would be relationships. Hairo is the most respectful and compassionate man in Saiki K. He listens to people and speaks whats on his mind (even if its a little blunt). He can be much but thats ok

he's the most normal and least worst

he is so supportive and even if hes rlly intense he would be such a good bf

he's nice. & hot i guess (if you're into that)

He is the most considerate and seems to be the most ready for a relationship, though the bar is very low.

Toritsuka Reita (3)

;) i love me a man who is Awful (im gay)

Kuboyasu Aren (31)

hes not too much of an idiot (unlike nendou, kaidou(im sorry lmao), saiko) + he respects women (unlike toritsuka) + i dont headcanon him as aroace (unlike akechi and saiki) + hes not boring (im sorry satou) (+ i dont deserve hairo tbh)

Side characters think Saiki is bland, Nendo is so ugly that nobody will give him a chance (:() , Kaido has his whole chuuni side to him which is annoying for most (:(), Hairo is Hairo, Toritsuka is Toritsuka, Saiko would probably be third place because of his money status but he is still insufferable to a lot of people, side characters know that Satou is bland (though that could be a good thing who knows, he is my 2nd place) and Akechi would just talk and talk and talk which most people would find annoying. Kuboyasu is pretty good at masking his delinquent side nowadays and has become just an average guy who isn't bland. Some people also prefer bad boys, so there's that I guess.

He could drive me around with his motorbike and could wrestle with me, that's really all i need in life. If powerless Saiki could still ride a motorbike he'd be my second choice, because we actually have a lot in common. Or maybe that's not a good thing…

who else tbh

he's a badass

Can start shit and hide behind him.

Season two episode two where he gets a fake love letter he admits his loyalty to love and care about his spouse forever and is willing to just drop school to marry them. Also he's really handsome and strong and good at art

Loyal. Will beat up anyone who decides to look at me in a bad way.

With how he reacted to one single (fake) love letter I don't doubt the fact that he would take care of his s.o. very well

Seem like he would be fun to hang around without it being absolutely insane...i think...maybe...

LOOK AT THE DUDE!! mans was ready to marry and be loyal to a woman his whole life over a single love letter absolute husband material I tell ya plus, he's trying to be good

He would be DEVOTED to his partner. He's cute. Also bisexual.

Big and buff and kind

An all around good guy. Has proven he isn't afraid of commitment and sacrifices for a life together, even dropping out. Is more than capable of protecting his partner, and also understands that his fighting lifestyle could put undue stress on his partner and their relationship and is willing to fully stop for them. He is respectful and has basic notions of what is and isn't socially appropriate, more than can be said about other members of the cast. He isn't desperate, or a pushover, a relationship with him is unlikely to be average to the point of boredom and he isn't excessively embarrassing to be with in public.

He’d make a genuine effort to be a good bf and make you happy. also weirdly i think he's the most normal one

Aren is a kind and loyal person, to his friends, his family and especially his lover. Aren doesn't need to constantly rely on people to become a better person, we've already seen from when he first appeared that he showed great discipline and restraint when he was trying to move on from his old delinquent life. His lover doesn't have to worry about about him 24/7, knowing that Aren can restraint himself and stay out trouble, he only ever really gets into fights with people that are awful. He always looks like he gives strong hugs and is very handsome.

He's hot n would treat me right. Need me a man that can kick someone's ass for me

hnnfg,,;,

Hes respectful but can also kick ass. He drinks his respect women juice everyday.

deeply dedicated to his potential partner + great at violence

H e's a dedicated and passionate guy. He's someone who's actively trying to better himself, and personally I find that really admirable and kind of attractive dldhldhskd.

Remember that time when someone sent him a (prank) confession letter, he was so nervous and serious it was so funny and cute. Honestly all I could think about at the time was that I would love to date a guy who would take the relationship seriously, but still be nervous that I can tease him a lot lol.

The only con with Aren that I can think of is his background, realistically I dont think I want to date someone who has gang relations (not v sure. been a while since i read the manga, i dont remember if Aren was really in a legit gang or just a delinquent gang sorry. if he was in a legit gang, id be more scared).

Uhh other dateable characters I like are Nendou, Saiko Metori and Teruhashi Kokomi. Tbh Nendou's would be THE BEST boyfriend. But the reason why he's second place to me is bc he's too tall for me. Seriously. I'm 5ft and a half. I dont see what you guys see in 6ft men. I am Not craning my neck to kiss or even Look at my man. So sorry T_T

I also really enjoyed seeing Saiko slowly redeeming and becoming nicer and caring towards the end of the series. Honestly so heartwarming. I like him. Would date him actually, despite the attidude. I've dealt wih worse lol.

As for Teruhashi, honestly she's the one I can imagine what it's like dating her best. I can go on for much longer here but I already think my response is too long T_T. Just uhh yk if theres a girls section I maybe would pick her lrbrkrbkdndm.

Because I might get along with him better than anyone else. We also have the same goal of spending our lives loving one person.

Saiko Metori (1)

no one else is gonna vote for him <3 actual answer: he's cute he's rich and i can fix him

Satou Hiroshi (11)

the rest are insane i think. i love them but if i were to date any of them there would always be something. second best option would either be kaido or kuboyasu i think

Least bad option, and dating him seems like a guarantee for a good relationship.

he's just a normal, nice dude who won't drag you into insane situations or get you arrested or whatever

Respects women.

Satou? Nice normal dude, Ideal nice quiet life with him and a nice simple romance that I want :)

not much will happen, you get together, go on average dates, meet family, live average lives, over all it'll be ok, a break up will probably be just as average too

normal. just a guy

He is the most normal out of them LMAO (I love the others so so much but holy hell dating any of them would be atrocious askdjksjd)

Idk man he's just a guy (not blorbo)

I'm gonna sound like Saiki but he's average and we have common interests. Not a lot of drama but life's not exactly dull around him either. He can care the conversations but he'll also let you ramble on.

Bro is the only man thatd treat me right

Akechi Touma (7)

I need someone to ramble more than me... Also I need someone to deduce what happens next in some fanfictions that isn't finished yet because I can't wait and doesn't have insane deduction skill. I mean Kuusuke can do it but Kuusuke might kill me so no. Also I need more Akechi ramble, I like those, got me interested in blood-type personality pseudo-science influence in japan, and since Akechi asked people to not harass him because of his blood type, it would mean that he is likely not type A (+and-). His purple eyes also implies that he has actually some supernatural skills, since traditional folktales associate this with eyes colored purple. It is also a deep dark purple. Interestingly, his pupils dilates whenever he goes into rambling mode. This is to be noted, people in sknpn dilates their people when they're furiously crazy (see Kurumi). Crazy Akechi? I am all here for it. Also he would be useful if I want to blackmail someone, so I would of course try my best to be on his side. I am not the brightest person in the world, but I am not stupid either. Next would be Kaidou. Kaidou is a totally relatable dude, since I have the same weight and same height as him (159cm and 45kg). Kaidou has a normal caring mom, who is overbearing but very well care about him genuinely. He is the only mom who Kusuo has never say anything negative about (Midori being a ""capitalist pig"", Kurumi being ""an idiot""). I would do anything to have his mom as my mom, though my mom is good enough, just a little bit more physical. Kaidou is also basically as weak as me (sadly), and would share a passion for hating sport. I am interested in drawing his fantasies and would happily be with him, since he is a sweet, pure, genuine person. I think I should end this here since there're more comments and questions to answer below I suppose.

He can info dump on me as whitenoise to combat my tetanus. I could Info dump back on occasion. I think it would be fun. Plus he's good with bugs.

I dont want to date him im an adult i just want to be friends with this dude thats all

I have problems

is datable meant to mean for everyone? cause this answer kinda hinges on the fact that me and him have two flavors of neurodivergence that i think would complement each other but thats just in my specific case. which is weird because im also aroace i just think wed get along?? i would give him a litol kissy on his head and then we'd go on wikipedia dates or something. i wish Akechi Touma was real because i absolutely would question my romantic/platonic attraction over him (something not a lot of people irl can claim ive done for them) But if this question means datable in the sense of like, ideal guy i would recommend to others? it would probably be Nendo. hes sweet and doesnt have as much baggage (for lack of a better word) as the others. He would treat you right and hes tall which i guess is a characteristic people are interested in, no judgement to them of course lol

Best of the Rest

Matsuzaki the Gym Teacher (24)

well matsuzaki is a nice guy and also i rewatched his introduction episode a few days ago so

another man who would treat you right

He's hard working (seemingly runs PK academy himself), cares deeply about his students, stable career

trustworthy, athletic, honorable

I wouldn't date him personally(see age), but he has good intentions

hes athletic with a stable job and idk i just get the vibe hed treat me right, y'know?

Im an introvert, he got my back

dilf. sorry the stubble and the lines under his eyes got to me.

He's cool and I like him.

you know. miss saiki close second

would NOT date him personally as i am not interested in people with DILF energy but he seems like a very good partner. go king shit.

he's neat

Respectful dude

himbo

dilf

He's cool.

look i just have issues

dilf energy

dilf

Similar reasons to Hairo; he's the most mature one and is very respectful, even if it does get lost in translation sometimes.

Id date Matsuzaki. Honestly dont know if we would be compatible but I really do like honest dudes. Remember that one time when some kids pranked him with a confession letter, and he really waited for someone to show up and rejected them kindly. Dude. I was like. Woah. That. That was genuinely so cool. That was genuinely so attractive. What the hell. I would love to date someone like that. I would also consider the mangaka, though honestly I feel like we are too similar it would almost be looking at a mirror (despite looking like complete opposites T_T). Hey maybe it would work out? But like. We could also be besties.

Kusuke Saiki (17)

Alright hes the worst and I want to study him

My taste in men is horrible

The insanity

He be psycho

Anime Kusuke, just to state. HES SO. AND FOR WHAT. thats it thats my truth

The mad scientist tm aesthetic

Brains?? rich?? idk man

He'd actually be awful to date he's just insane and I like that in a man

get married. high risk high reward. i am a lesbian though and if he was a lesbian mad scientist he would be extremely hot. but as is I'm just all about planning my divorce outfit and attempting to dodge certain death

Korosensei from Assassination Classroom (17)

I was going to choose Kusuke, because I've slowly realized that he's my blorbo, though he's trash. He's smart and I like passionate guys,,, if we could, redirect it a bit maybe. But then I saw Korosensei and all bets are off. Reaper form is hot, and as a teacher he's just so caring, and again, the passion for me.

Alien boy that likes teaching, what is there not to love?

Everyone else I either didn't know, didn't remember enough about to know if they were safe, or knew to be DEFINITELY not safe. Don't know much about Assassination Classroom, but my sister read the manga so I asked her if he was a decent person and she said yes. Asked if hanging out with him risked damage to my physical or mental health, she said as long as I was a good guy I'd be fine (and possibly benefit mental health?) so. He's probably good.

Korosensei is literally the ideal guy

Process of elimination

I uh,, I um, well, ya know ?

with or without tentacles he's still care for you and it wouldn't be as overbearing as the other options. I was originally going to choose Kusuke but I don't want to end up a lab rat

Shiragami Fudekichi (Mangaka of Silent Cyborg) (12)

I'll be honest here: I should have voted for Mr. Matsuzaki, but Fudekichi is really, really good-looking. I can be very shallow.

he's a mood

Could draw you.

Introverted artist thats says no to women objectification? Yes please. And he is a great artist and writer that even has a team of helpers and thats really impressive, u know?

hes pretty

he looks a little pathetic and i think its funny

Chono the Magician (7)

i want to roll him up into a ball and shoot hoops with him

i think itd be funny

Only one without any obvious terrible flaws preventing him, and he does seem to have both a stable job and a good amount of creativity and loyalty.

Nice dude! Has his life together!

He's sane

Kuniharu Saiki (6)

im about to embark on the greatest "i can fix him" project of all time

Kuniharu is hard-working, even if he is quiet useless. He is very loyal, and to be fair he does manage to provide for his family in the end with his shameless shoe-licking. He seems like the type to be devoted also my hands are tired. He is weak and won't be able to hurt a fly, and sweet person with questionable litterature skill. Nonetheless he is an admirable enough person, who enjoys the lovely domestic environment at his house rather than focusing on his career. Focusing on his career for money, etc would probably end at best as a normal divorce, in the workacoholic society that they live in. Thug-smile Shirigami is my scond choice. Young, successful and the best trait: he is so funny lmao. Just look at his passive aggressive doings towards Kuniharu. How could one not respect this man lmao.

There must be a reason why he bagged a baddie

he'd lick my boots 😜

idk i just picked the person i knew it's been a hot minute since i watched the ol saik

The sniper Saiki summoned (6)

he does a good job :)

snipers are hot

gun

Ike-san the Magician's Assistant (4)

He just chillin ya know

Arguably the most fuckable on this list

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ seems nice

Iguchi Takumi (the new teacher from Reawakened) (4)

my standards for men are: is not a pathetic creature or a creep

He seems nice ig, even if he looks a lil creepy he's got his heart in the right place.

Because Kuniharu is a taken man, and, though sweet, a tad pathetic. Iguchi Takumi is prejudged as a pervert every day by society and still he doesn't let it get in the way of providing the best guidance he can to his students. He is fair, not a pushover, not over strict, gives second chances and forgives children easily for the mistakes children usually make. He's patient, respectful, has never been condescending to the students, goes up and above in his dedication to his work. These are all qualities of a high quality man. He works in his true passion, and I bet he'd do his very best to maintain a healthy work/life balance if he finds someone to share his life with. His students would probably go first, but a man with such ironclad priorities is also respectable and admirable.

Rean Kuboyasu (3)

Dilf.

I like Matsuzaki and mr. Ike but rean seems to be in the healthiest marriage of the show. Him and his wife kicked ass together, taught their kid what they know, then all turned to the straight and narrow path as a family. A tattooed family man who can ride a motorcycle and saves kittens on the side of the road.

Aren gotta get it from somewhere

The Café Mami Manager (2)

He seems like a nice guy. The others are all a bit quirky for some people, especially Kuusuke, Makoto and Aren's dad

Can deal with cockroaches. A little emotionally unstable but who isn't. Plus perpetual sweets and coffee shop dates. I wouldn't mind working with him in his business or being a girlboss taking care of the bills so he can maintain his business.

Kuniharu Mannequins (2 for the price of 1) (2)

They can't backtalk

Other (2)

Kokomi Teruhashi – she’s pretty

Mr. Kaidou – Wooed Mrs Kaidou and also works a high end job.

The sumo wrestler Saiki summoned (1)

WRESTLE MEEEEE!!!

Peanuts Ueda (1)

No Votes

Makoto Teruhashi

Takahashi (classmate)

Nendo Sr

The magician Saiki summoned

#mad respect to the person who correctly stated that they'd be the only person picking Saiko #nopsi graphics #nopsi meta #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#sknpn #nopsi nonsense #tdlosk

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