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lin-kuei-scout · 3 years

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Revival | Recollection [ CHAPTER 1 ]

Clarity, anger, guilt, frustration, worry. One after the other, she mulled her thoughts over, the silence between them only filled by the beeping of his heart monitor. Jax could guess the words that were going to leave her next:

"Is… is that how you feel, too?"

Characters: Jax Briggs, Sonya Blade Word Count: 2.5K Also on: Fanfiction.Net

Short piece focusing on Jax shortly after his revival. Next chapter will be featuring Scorpion and Jax talking things out.

Being alive… It was taking some being used to.

He, like the others, woke up isolated, hooked up to machines that beeped and flashed numbers, arms shackled to the bed only as a request that he stay where he is. At any other time in his life, Jax Briggs would find the bare medical decore of the Special Forces Infirmary off-putting and unnerving, a reminder of every decimating injury he and those he cared about suffered through.

But now? Now he couldn't tear his eyes away from his heart monitor, slowly sitting up, moving as if he could finally feel the weight of his own body. He was alive, he was breathing, he could think through the fog that had clouded his mind and soul for the first time in years.

And with thoughts came memories. Like a tidal wave, everything he'd done for Quan Chi…

"Oh god…"

It's a choked up sound, nausea and anguish, a bitter mix resting right at the back of the throat, threatening to come up if he breathed wrong. His hands clench the bed frame, seeking any sort of stability, but when his eyes glance over to them the feeling only gets worse. These were still the arms the sorcerer had given him, the same ones that -

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, the door to his side opens, and the sound of it almost escapes him, but he doesn't miss the voice of the person that had come in.

"Briggs." It's trained and contained, superficially devoid of emotion, a testing of the waters, but he knew that tone of voice. Knew who it belonged to. His head nearly snaps off from how quickly he turned to face it, his expression shifting through a myriad of emotions. He had so many things to say, so much to apologize for, so much to catch up on… So he settles on a tired, weary smile, and answers in turn.

"Lieutenant Blade."

That did it. For a moment, it looked like she was ready to bawl her eyes out right then and there, but with a deep shuddering breath and a moment spent with her eyes closed, Sonya eventually returned his smile, eyes watering still as she made her way over to him.

"It's… really you."

Jax just kept smiling, even as the corner of his lips faltered, his gaze returning to his hands, looking at them as if they were foreign before clenching and unclenching his fists. Avoiding Sonya's eyes, Jax can only sigh, smile finally dropping completely. "Doesn't feel like it. Everything's… blurry, but I can still remember every single thing I did… and without hesitation. What did he do to me, Sonya? What kind of monster was I? I know sorry won't cut it, but -"

"No, you're not giving me that crap, Jax." She punches his metal arm, and the dull metallic reverberation is enough to shut him up and listen as her face scrunches up in a pained expression. "That wasn't you, alright? That was Quan Chi using you, forcing you to do things you'd never agree to because he knew it would hurt you." Her gaze softens, then, "Hurt us. The fact that you're sitting here, looking like you're about to sob your heart out, is enough proof that that wasn't you, soldier."

He's quiet then, contemplative. It isn't enough to absolve his guilt, but it was enough to momentarily soothe the shock of being alive, cauterizing an emotional wound he would have to address properly later.

Finally, a low chuckle leaves him, the man shaking his head before looking at Sonya again. "Can't be taking it worse than the other guys, can I?" The exasperated body language that immediately took over her form tipped him off that he was right, but he could see when Sonya needed to rant - he was pretty sure she'd combust one day if she dealt with enough bullshit all at once.

"Actually, from me? You're getting top marks. Sub-Zero is still unconscious, so there's no saying how he'll react. Raiden says that he must 'join his mind to the body Quan Chi had constructed for him', whatever that means. And Scorpion's being…" Sonya mentally counts to ten, then sighs. "He set himself on fire and nearly killed two people, Kenshi had to knock him out. Twice. Raiden tried to speak to him after that, but it just threw him into another fit."

"... Damn."

"Yeah…" She shifts, then, her posture changing into something less confident, a rare glimpse of her being unsure. "I… this is going to make me sound like a bitch, but… I don't know what to do with him. No one knows. We went in hoping to resurrect everyone we lost, but it feels like we wasted that chance by resurrecting Scorpion instead, and the bastard acts like we did him a disservice.

"Meanwhile I can't just say it to his face that we didn't even mean to revive him, now can I? And we can't just let him go either, not without risking him just running back to Quan Chi and wasting all of our efforts." Jax can feel how much this is wearing on Sonya, and he understood her frustration so he lets her rant, but it's clear there was something on his mind. Although he would've waited for her to finish, Sonya doesn't keep going, instead looking at him and sighing again. "Go on, say what you're gonna say. I know that face."

"Look, I getcha, but he won't be running back to Quan Chi as fast as you think."

"... I'm not following, Jax." A deadpanned admission of her confusion, Sonya couldn't see where he was going with this, a hand on her hip as she scowled less at Jax and more at the concept of Scorpion going against her perception of him.

"I know Scorpion was the most… loyal of us, but he also seemed to be the only one of us that could think clearly, even if it didn't do him any good. All it meant was that he did the bastard's bidding unwillingly, was the only one of us that actively wanted to break away from Quan Chi." Unlike he, who felt nauseous at the gratefulness he remembered towards the necromancer. Everything he did…

"Then why is he throwing a fit when he got what he wanted? He's free of Quan Chi isn't he?" She snapped, and Jax almost laughed at her exasperation with the now living spectre, but the weight of his next words took the will to do so from him.

"... Pretty sure he wanted to die and stay dead, Sonya."

That seems to get through to her, and Jax could swear he heard her teeth clack together from how quickly she shut her mouth, lips trained into a tense thin line while her eyes showed the thoughts running through her mind. Clarity, anger, guilt, frustration, worry. One after the other, she mulled her thoughts over, the silence between them only filled by the beeping of his heart monitor. Jax could guess the words that were going to leave her next:

"Is… is that how you feel, too?"

Jax feels his eyes water, threatening to overflow with the emotions he was trying so hard to not acknowledge, and a metal hand goes to wipe at them, trying to pass it off as just him rubbing the bridge of his nose. It helped, somewhat, to have the cool metal press against his face.

"I don't really know how I'm feeling right now. I'm glad, Sonya, I'm really glad to be alive and myself again, but all I can think of is just… I don't even know how long I was dead for." His voice strains for a moment, but Jax refuses to let go of his composure and settles for just clearing his throat, sitting up to lean back against the wall behind him. His arms felt heavier than he remembered.

The same hand that punched his arm now rests on his shoulder, squeezes the muscle underneath, and Jax reaches up with his opposite hand to squeeze it in thanks. Whatever his emotions, he was here now, and he'd deal with things one step at a time. Or at the very least, try to.

"I can imagine it's a lot to take in at once. I'm sorry, you just woke up, I shouldn't have come in here only to immediately complain to you -"

He laughs, there, so genuinely that it startled both of them.

"Sonya, you acting like I'm still just me is what's keeping me sitting here in this bed and not throwing a fit like Scorpion is." He means it as a joke, mostly, but a thought worms it's way into his head. "I want to start catching up on everything I missed out on, see if anything that I know can be used against Quan Chi, I do, but right now… I just can't. This barely feels real." He squeezed the hand on his shoulder once more before letting go, resting his hands in his lap. "Part of me wants to go back to sleep, so sure this is just some kind of fucked up dream he conjured up, a taste of freedom to rip away from me."

Sonya crosses her arms at the waist, gaze resting on his heart monitor, swallowing down bouts of emotion that threatened her composure, ever unused to letting go of her detached military upbringing. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that getting them back was only part of the battle, but… she can't say she didn't hope things would be less taxing on them all.

"Well, it isn't, and I'll be glad to beat that into your head anytime you need me." She sits at the side of his bed, the mattress barely denting under her weight, and it was clear she was struggling still with being genuine, but making an effort. "I've missed you, Jax. I'm glad you're back." She doesn't reach for a hug, but Jax does, and she clings to his frame like she's afraid to let go. "It hasn't been the same without you."

"Missed you too."

They stay like that for nearly a minute, Jax just taking in the feel of a friendly touch, the warmth of another, and again he thinks on how Sonya is being his rock right now, a foundation for him to lean against while reality keeps shaking him down. Eventually, however, they must break apart, and Sonya is the first to do so, awkwardly clearing her throat as she stands, looking around the room.

"I should… probably let you rest some more. You'll have to go through a proper mental and physical examination, and after that I'm sure you'll be swarmed with visits. Johnny said -"

"God, please, anyone but him."

Sonya cracks a smile again, shaking her head. "He said Raiden wanted to talk to you too, once you were ready. Johnny just sent his well wishes from his own infirmary room." Ah, right, Jax stabbed him didn't he? But before he can mull on the guilt that lays there, Sonya raises her hand. "He's fine, Raiden healed the worst of it, and he doesn't blame you, trust me." It doesn't help as much as he wants it to help, but it's enough to push the thoughts into the back of his mind, at least for now. "Is there anything you need or want, before I go? Food, water? I could probably get a TV in here -"

"I'm good, I'm good. I feel like watching the news right now would be a bit much to take in." He wasn't hungry just yet, but he had a feeling he'd be starving sooner or later, once his body realized they had to eat to live again. "I do have a question, though. Before I have to talk to everyone, deal with all the medical bullshit…" The thought that had crawled into his mind earlier, at his comment aimed at Scorpion, wormed its way to the forefront of his mind. "Do you think I could talk to Scorpion? Alone?"

That gives Sonya pause, her brows furrowing in mild confusion and doubt, but her expression softens when she looks at Jax, remembering what he'd told her just a few moments ago. Still, she can't help but worry. "Are you sure? He's a danger to himself and others, Jax. What do you think talking to him will accomplish?"

"I know, I heard ya." He leans his head back against the wall, tilting it up and squinting at the bright white lights illuminating the room. "But this is less about me talking him down and more about… I don't know. Talking to someone who was there with me, understands what I went through." There, he lowers his eyes from the lights to Sonya's face, noting how she was visibly chewing on her cheek as she argued with herself. "And if talking to me manages to calm him down? That'll just be a bonus."

"... Fine. I'll see what I can do." Eventually, Sonya relented, shaking her head as her hand came to rest on her hip again. Their second next bet on dealing with Scorpion was having Kenshi try to talk to him in his dreams, but it was clear that just keeping the living wraith in control was already taxing on the telepath. "But if he as much as looks at you funny -"

"I'll smack him upside the head myself, Sonya." She scowled at him, and Jax let out a short huff of a laugh. "Wrong answer, got it. I'll leave him alone, I promise. I'm not exactly itching to experience third-degree burns."

That seems to appease her, even if her unamused frown remained. "I'll hold you to that, Jax." With that, she turned on her heels and headed out of the room, but she lingered on the doorway, hand resting in front of the sensors to keep the door open. There was clearly so much on her mind, but all she offered him was a tired smile. "I'll see you later. Rest up, soldier."

A mock salute was his reply, and he only dropped it once Sonya was out of sight, the doors closing behind her. Immediately, he laid back down, breathing in and exhaling a deep, drawn-out sigh that seemed to completely deflate him. His thoughts were a mess, and his emotions were an even bigger one, but… that was good, right? It meant he was himself again.

Or so he hoped.

Next Chapter: [ WIP ]

#mortal kombat #jax briggs #sonya blade #my writings #me rushing the polish on this so that i can post this before gym #anyway!!! its good to be back ive missed writing for mk #anyway sonya and jax arent appreciated enough

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starryexposures · 2 years

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Catching Lightning

Summary: When life gets messy, it’s easy to think about the past. But for you and Steve, it’s all about driving forward even in the middle of a storm. (Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader) - Takes place at the end of S2, Established Relationship, Soft Smut, 1.6K Words

A/N: This heavily based on the rooftop scene from High School Musical 3, because I’ve been itching to write something like it. This is also my first time writing smut so feedback is much appreciated!

Contrary to popular belief, Steve Harrington was never a fan of parties. Especially ones that take place in the Hawkins Middle School gym. In reality, He loved everything that came after the parties: the late-night chats by his car, sharing a joint with his friends, and giggling endlessly about harmless pranks. But when he caught your eye while dropping off Dustin at the Snowball, he had a change of heart.

Your pastel blue dress pooled just above your knees, its straps gracing your collarbones, taunting Steve and daring him to try and free them. Steve had always thought you looked good in blue. But right now, he was really liking the idea of you in nothing. Steve felt a spark of electricity boom in his chest as he saw you beam at his presence when he walked Dustin into the gym.

“Dustin, you’re looking sharp tonight.” You complimented reaching to pat the younger teen on the shoulder. He flicked your hand away, mumbling about how you were killing his game, obviously nervous about tonight. With a knowing smile you bent eye level towards Dustin, catching his attention, “I think Kathy Smith is waiting for you to ask her to dance.” You stated, pointing to the other nervous teen across the gym. With a smile Dustin rushed over to Kathy taking her hand.

With a small laugh, you turned to Steve, “Hey Handsome,” you greeted to your boyfriend, hands landing on the cozy fabric of his sweater, “I thought you said you were too old to be chaperoning a middle school dance?” Your brow quirked, mischief lacing your voice

Steve shook his head as he took you by the waist, “No Sweetheart, that was Younger Steve. He was very naïve,” he exaggerated with a knowing grin. The boy swayed you softly to the notes of a slow song, “I, Older Steve, am much wiser and know a good time when I see one.” He pressed a playful kiss on your cheek that never fails to make you giggle.

Oh, what did you do to deserve him?

“Will you dance with me?” You asked, doe eyed.

Steve snuck his head towards your ear, causing goosebumps to form on your neck, “Not here.” he whispered. Without warning, he ran across the gym with you in hand, both of you laughing like you were teenagers again.

And in some ways, you two still were just a pair of fresh faced teens with the prospects of your future on the horizons. Under the grueling ache of past heartbreak, battling monsters from the unknown, and visiting the tunnels of an underground dimension, you and Steve were still the same two kids who found each other in the mess of life. Unspokenly, you both knew that there was no way to go back to the innocence of seventeen - no matter how much you wished for it sometimes. But as you gripped onto Steve’s hand, your flats thumping into the polished gym floor, you knew with just as much certainty that you and Steve were a forever kind of thing.

You only had a second to shoot Nancy an apologetic glance for leaving your post before Steve began leading you up the stairs of the school, picking the lock of a door that clearly read OFFICAL PERSONNEL ONLY. With a quick shove, Steve introduced you to the brisk December air.

He stepped onto the roof, glancing at your hesitation. With an out reached hand, he lightly pulled on your fingers. “Can I have this dance?” He asked, his hand bringing you towards his chest when you committed to the shenanigans of sneaking onto the roof of your old school. Steve twirled you around making you tippy toe when your dress swirled. He planted his forehead onto yours, eyes shining under the night sky, “I found the entrance to the rooftop back in seventh grade,” Steve explained bringing you closer so you could share his heat, “If someone had told me then that I would be dancing up here with the prettiest girl in school I wouldn’t have believed them.”

You shook your head, eyes rolling slightly, “Please, little Steve Harrington had this whole town wrapped around his finger.” You accused, leaning on his chest. You took in his heartbeats and its pounding began to sound like music in your ears, “I’m just lucky that he chose me.”

Steve grasped your cheek, thumbing your jaw as he started right at you. You felt like the softness of his bedsheets, like a night of endless pillow talk, and a morning of tangled blankets. He brushed the tall of your neck bringing his lips closer to yours and he whispered, “I’m the lucky one.” The boy’s free hand ran along your spine, causing your breath to become uneven.

You suddenly felt tension all over, the giggles from before washing away into a shore of wanting. You suddenly felt small, a new shyness creeping into your skin. Pushing through the nerves, your hands found their way to Steve’s belt loops and you pulled him in unexpectedly. Your lips crashed into his and his hold on you tightened, bring you impossibly close.

You felt a trickle of rainwater on your collarbone as Steve slipped a hand over the strap of your dress. Drip. Another droplet splashed the side of your cheek as you tugged on Steve’s bottom lip with your teeth, gaining entrance. Drop. Another drizzle fell as Steves tongue began dancing with yours.

You cursed under your breath when heavy rain began to thrash, quickly drenching the silk of your dress. Steve pulled away looking at how the silk clung to your skin. He decided then that he needed all of you.

The drive to Steve’s house had you growing antsy, desire bubbled in your stomach while his free hand gripped onto your bare thigh teasing you up and down. Steve had parked his car messily, throwing his keys into the void as he led you into his empty house, lips refusing to leave yours. The stairs up to his room seemed to stretch for miles as he blindly climbed backgrounds taking the opportunity to pin you against the stair wall. His lips found your collarbones and neck, the straps of your dress falling to your shoulders as your hair released itself from its updo, forming a halo around you.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” Steve groaned, fingers fumbling with the zipper of your dress, “And that’s you with your dress on.”

“Steve, bed.” You pleaded, not knowing how much more your legs can handle standing upright, your flesh already pulsing.

The rush up the stairs was immediate. Steve finally reached the end of your zipper allowing you to step out and expose your bare breast, with just your lacey underwear covering you now. The back of your calves hit the edge of the bed and you feel Steve guiding you up and onto your back. With quick maneuvering, you slipped Steve’s sweater off his shoulders, throwing it to join the void of forgotten clothes and keys. Your hand reached below, palming the rough denim of your boyfriend’s pants. His startled grunt earned a smirk on your lips as you pressed your smile deeper into his kiss tinted lips, fumbling with his belt buckle.

“That was unfair,” He mumbled making his way to your chest, swirling his tongue on the tip of your nipple, sucking it softly before letting out a small pop. The coolness of the rainy night air formulated goosebumps without hesitation, making Steve grin as he worked his way to the other, giving each matching marks. “Justice tastes a lot like you.” Steve teased as your moan rippled through the bedroom.

Your fingers unbuttoned his jeans, giving you room to place your hand onto the tip of his length, bringing our thumb up and over the head, your freehand steadying his hip. “I was only getting started.” You taunted seeing Steve tense at the sudden touch. You wriggled his jeans half off placing your fingers fully on his length now, moving slowly, gliding forward and back. Your touch caused Steve to lower his head into your neck, satisfaction ringing through his body. You can feel the softness of his boxers as you continue to please him, “How does that feel Steve?” You asked, sweetness dripping from your kiss bruised lips.

It all felt too good. The meshing of bodies, how his sheets crumpled under you, the way your skin glowed from sweat and rain. Steve was being pushed over the edge; he knew that. But he wasn’t ready to give you the pleasure of having the upper hand. Steve lowered himself on his knees, kicking off his pants completely. He started to circle your pressure point, feeling your developed wetness gleam across your clit, slipping in one, two, three of his fingers into your cavity. The tightness drowned you, the loud thundering storm overlapping with your whines of faster and more that were playing in the background.

The pace quickened and soon everything was happening all at once. Steve’s mouth meeting your flesh, inhaling its goodness before kissing you hard on the mouth. A condom being snapped on before he teased your entrance. Soon he was thrusting himself into you, one hand gripping your thigh and another propping himself up. Your head banged against the headboard, each push getting messier, faster, and harder as your rhythm matched the hum of rain coming form outside. Your breath hitched as indulgence bloomed within you. You were only able to communicate through moans and whimpers as your lips found the nape of Steve’s neck. His words jumbled together as well, lost in the mess of your hair and the heat of your bodies pushing against each other, as he carried you both to finish.

As if on cue, a strike of lightning illuminated the room as the two of you fell into each other, exhausted from the adrenaline and drunk on each other’s touch. You hissed when Steve pulled out of you, suddenly feeling like your body was missing something. His forehead landed softly on your lap, inviting you to comb through his hair. Steve rubbed his face into your thigh, sighing in contentment before staring at you with the loveliest brown eyes.

“You’re one in a billion, did you know that?” he murmured, lips pressing against your skin. “Little Steve Harrington would be so jealous right now.”

Your eyebrow raised causing you to purse your lips as you try to hide your mischievous smile, “Oh, I think Little Steve Harrington enjoyed me plenty.” You grinned, eyeing his bottom. You couldn’t contain your laugh as Steve slapped you playfully with a nearby pillow. You didn’t try to shield yourself from its hit, instead choosing to partake in the mini pillow fight.

The two of you slept well that night, listening to the thunder as lightning chased the storm. You smiled as you turned towards Steve, and thought to yourself - maybe the innocence of seventeen was better left behind.

#steve harrington one shot #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harringtone x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

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Superior Specimen - Chapter 1

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig... and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Superior Specimen – Chapter 1

It had all started innocently; you’d been cruising the paleontology and archaeology tags on Instagram, checking out the progress of the summer digs you were unable to go on, one in particular catching your interest. The dig in the Siberian summer desert was posting some fascinating photos and clips, and you were following them avidly from that point on.

A week later when you got the job at the Natural History Museum and you proudly posted a selfie in your uniform, you saw some familiar accounts like and comment, one in particular leaving a chain of hearts, and when you clicked on the profile you saw it was one of the palaeontologists from the Siberian dig. Hitting that ‘follow back’ button you didn’t think much more about the account.

It was your first day and you couldn’t have been prouder of your own achievements. You knew that jobs within the archaeology and palaeontology fields were few and far between, and unless you were blessed with some very rich parents or managed to snag some sort of sponsor or bursary, actually following the dream and getting in at the upper levels was almost impossible. You’d worked your socks off, volunteering on domestic digs during breaks from university, taking jobs after your degree to advance your language skills, and now it had paid off; the front desk at the most renowned museum in the country, perhaps even the world. Now as you stood beneath the skeleton of the Blue Whale in the giant atrium of the gothic building, you adjusted your name badge, polishing the three flags that were adorned on the bottom of the badge to show the languages you spoke, and watched as the security guard unlocked the doors for the days visitors to excitedly rush in.

The following weeks rushed by, you thoroughly enjoyed your role and settled into it quickly. You were called upon to help translate for confused visitors from overseas, held a level head when people got out of hand, had met all the staff - it surprised you how small of a number of staff there actually were - and above all you felt completely settled.

At the end of a long day you finished up your shift and clocked off, grabbing your bag from the staffroom lockers before stepping out into the warm summer evening. Checking your notifications you saw a DM, and smiled when you saw who it was from; the guy from the Siberian dig that over the last few weeks you had started chatting to casually.

@Kinghenry; “Looking beautiful as always. How was work?”

You smiled where you could see he’d replied to an on-the-way-to-work selfie you’d posted that morning;

“Good. Tiring. And thank you <3”

You saw the little notification that your message had been seen, and paused as you saw that he was writing, meaning he was online right at that moment;

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

“A scented bath, then I’m ordering takeout and bingeing Netflix”

“So, no-one to take you to dinner?”

You smiled at his sly way of asking if you’re single;

“Nope. Why; are you asking?”

“Absolutely. Plus, I brought you a gift back from the dig”

“Oh yes? What’s that, a bunch of bones?”

“Just one. A big one. Wanna see?”

You laugh-groaned at his innuendo, before another message came through with the icon that the user had attached a photo. Your thumb hovered over the icon, hesitating. Had this casual flirting advanced to dick pics? And more to the point; did you actually want to see what he was packing? Hell, you’d seen the crew shots of the dig and had seen him tagged, the guy was built like Hercules. Taking a deep breath you looked up and noticed you were almost at the entrance to the tube station. If you didn’t tap it now you wouldn’t have enough signal in the underground train tunnels to download it, and you knew he would have had the notification that you’d gotten the message. You tapped on the photo… and waited…

The laugh you let out once the photo loaded bubbled from your throat; there he was, stood in the Siberian desert, chest bare, and holding what must have been a femur from an enormous bi-ped as it was well over 4ft long. You knew that fossils were incredibly heavy, so for him to be holding one of that size you felt a tingle in your stomach at the thought of how strong he was. Screenshotting it your phone buzzed where he sent another message;

“So, what do you think? *wink*”

“That’s an impressive bone”

“Heavy too”

You felt a bead of sweat slowly make its way down your back, the heat of the summer evening still intense in the city, and you knew if you stood outside the tube station much longer you’d melt;

“I’ve got to get on the tube, talk later xxx”

Later was quite a few hours later, and as you sank into the scented bath, you’d indulged yourself with oils, petals, candles; the whole nine yards. The obligatory candle-lit shot of your legs peeking out of the water headed to your grid, before you settled back and relaxed.

Your phone propped up in the wooden bath shelf playing your music, and a glass of wine half-drunk as you let the feeling of the waters soothe you. After a couple of songs you heard the chime of a notification, peering out of one eye to see that he’d sent you a message. Wiping your hands on a towel you opened it and smiled;

“Sorry if the tease was too much earlier”

“Not at all. I opened it, didn’t I? *wink*”

“That you did… you curious little thing. How’s the bath?”

“Warm, wet, and relaxing”

You knew you were being a tease, but you’d had a glass of wine before you’d even gotten into the bath so you were a little emboldened by the alcohol. Your phone chimed and you saw another photo notification, tapping on it and letting out a ‘ouff’. He was standing in front of a full length mirror, wearing just a pair of running shorts that clung to his sweat drenched body and left absolutely nothing to the imagination, the clear outline of a heavy cock resting against his thigh to the point you were surprised it didn’t peek out from the leg hole.

“I could do with something warm wet and relaxing right now… got all worked up at the gym”

Your jaw literally dropped; you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen as your entire body shuddered with lust. Turning onto your side you flipped the camera to selfie mode, and snapped a shot of your body; doe eyes, the swell of your breasts glistening in the candlelight, down to the curve of your hip as it emerged from the cloudy blue and green water. Not a single thing was showing - nipples and pussy just hidden by the water - but it was obvious you were completely naked. You hit send and settled back into a more comfortable position, watching the screen as it changed from sent to seen then the little notification to tell you he was typing;

“Look at what you’ve done to me”

The photo that loaded was taken from chest height, and he caught his stomach and Adonis belt, and his shorts were obscenely tented. He was typing again, and much to your surprise it was a phone number;

“Here’s mine, or you can show me yours… number that is…”

Taking a deep breath you hit the number and raised the phone to your ear, hearing it ring before a deep voice answered;

“Henry?”

“Yes, is that you Princess?”

“It’s me” you found your free hand had slid down your body to the juncture of your thighs, just his voice was turning you on.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m touching myself… your voice… fuck…”

“So, if my voice is turning you on so much you must touch yourself, taking you out for dinner will be an interesting experience. Will I need to slide my hand under the table and pet that little pussy of yours?”

“I guess I’ll have to skip wearing underwear then…”

The groan that you heard down the line sent sparks to your clit as you rubbed figure eights over the sensitive nub, and you longed to hear it in person, whispered against your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin.

From that point the conversation entered the gutter, Henry had the dirtiest mind and the deepest voice, his words wrapped around your brain like it was enrobed in salted caramel, and when you came you called out his name so loud your neighbours probably heard. As you came down from your orgasmic high you heard a quiet chuckle;

“Feel better now Princess?”

“Hmmm yes, thank you”

“I need a shower now… somehow I’m even more worked up than before the gym… Hmmn I wonder why?” he mused down the line

“Shame I can’t lend a hand to help out” you countered, and the sharp inhale of breath told you he’d liked what you’d said.

“That can be arranged… anyway, I have an issue I now need to take care of, and as you’re not here I need to take the matter into my own hands”

“Both hands?” you asked coyly

“Jesus woman… you’re gonna be the death of me, I’m so fucking hard I could burst right now”

“Well I’ll let you go, but I’ll say what I said before, shame I can’t lend a hand. Speak soon Henry”

“Absolutely, take care Princess”

Chapter 2 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x female reader

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heyybrittannia · 4 years

Text

Reminiscence - First Tempo

A/N: Hey, ya’ll! Been a while since my last posting. Proud to say this is my first foray into the rabid Haikyuu fandom, and it’s an Ukai angsty-fluff fest. So glad to announce that this fic has been brought to you by the Haikyuu HQ SFW Collab! Do check them out. This month’s theme was Amnesia~! Look out for Second Tempo on my secondary blog or DM me for the link.

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“Miss? Miss, are you okay?”

“Shit! I didn’t mean to--!” You woke to a sea of faces swimming into view and a cacophony of voices and rubber squeaking toward your downed direction. Head throbbing and body aching, you groaned as you tried to sit up, only to find you couldn’t. A wince tore through you as your back hit the smooth, polished gym floor. Sneakers squeaked as more people rushed over to peek in on the aftermath of what you assumed was a wayward serve. “Oi, nothing to see here. Get back in formation and run that second drill. Ingrates,” a gruff, older voice drew closer. Blinking up into the rafters of the gym, another face came into your line of sight. Older, weathered with age and tanned with decades in the sun, the coach knelt beside your head, blocking your view of the ceiling. “Give her some air. That was some hit you took.” “Y-yeah...didn’t see it coming.” He rested a firm hand on your back as you sat up, head spinning. The old man grinned and clapped you on the back, almost knocking the wind out of your smaller frame.

“Hopefully the other team agrees. Can you stand?” Nodding, you took his arm and rose to your feet. Unsteadily, you gave the old coach a small grin and took a moment to gather your thoughts. He returned it in kind and then glared at the bench. “Keishin!” he barked. A boy with sharp eyes and a shaved head jolted up from his conversation with who you assumed was the team advisor and looked over in your direction. You couldn’t place why, but for some reason your heart rate picked up when he locked eyes with yours. The old man gestured for Keishin to come over and you hung your head to hide the flush creeping over your cheeks.

“‘Sup, gramps?”

“It’s not like you’re doing anything. Make sure she gets home okay.” The player knelt down to gather your things and let out a small huff of irritation. The old man gave you a knowing smile and returned to barking orders and veiled encouragement to his team. Keishin ushered you from the practice gym with a roll of his eyes. “How fucking stupid can you be?” His gruff words confused you, left you caught between your own irritation and something akin to heartache. “I don’t know what you mean…” you replied softly, gathering your books to your chest. It wasn’t your first experience with Keishin Ukai, or his terse persona. You shared some classes together after your transfer to Karasano, but his mind always seemed to be stuck on volleyball. Part of you admired that one-track focus, but he always left you wondering if there was more to him.

“Dumbass, the court isn’t for little girls.” You scowled and scoffed at his words, your own volleyball gear tucked discreetly away into the bag the younger Ukai had slung over his shoulder.

“I...I was dropping off a book for Shimada.” He scoffed at your reply and continued to lead you down the block. It wasn’t like Miyagi was a big prefecture, but your head throbbed and the streetlamps were starting to flicker on with the impending sundown. You two cleared another two blocks before he stopped and ground his teeth with a low growl. “What’s the matter?” “...Where do you live?” You had been content to let him lead you through the streets, oblivious to the idea that he didn’t actually know you or your life. A soft giggle left your lips and for a moment, Keishin looked like he was either going to throttle you or run away. “Another block, Ukai...you’re young Ukai, yeah?” He grunted and continued to lead you down the street, your bags slung over his shoulder. “If you’re asking if the old man is a relation, he’s my grandfather.” “It must be hard to live up to that,” you murmured thoughtfully, holding your books close to your chest. “It’s like a legacy thing, right? I mean, even outside of Miyagi the Old Crow is a legend, brutal as his methods are…" “Legacy...sure.” It was your turn to lead as you rounded the corner to your apartment building. You tucked your hair behind your ear and offered a small smile. You held out your hand to take your bag from him and he scowled at you, almost as if he was still contemplating your words. You turned away from him and fumbled for your keys. His hand lingered over your shoulder as you turned the key in the lock, mouth slightly open as if the words were waiting to come out…But they never did. You mumbled your thanks, cheeks a gentle pink as you waved goodbye, a wave he returned with a hesitant hand. The door shut between you and the audible click of the deadbolt sliding into place removed you from his presence, leaving him to simmer in his thoughts on his way back to his grandfather’s. He was a setter, strategic, constantly thinking, but with two sentences you had him reeling. Sure, he’d see you at school in some bullshit class he couldn’t care less about. Sure, you’d probably show up at the family store with your friends. Would it even matter? Would you be willing to pick up the one-sided conversation again? Would you grace him with the casual lilt of your voice or those tiny smiles you seemed more than willing to part with when he was around? Under the orange glow of the streetlights he trudged home, scowl growing darker the longer he thought about how you’d be just another face to forget. He had the game, his team to pour himself into, and you would be just another distraction. When he finally made it home, he crept up the stairs to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed with a groan. He didn’t want to admit that your dazed expression was the last thing on his mind before he eventually drifted to sleep.

+++++

The shrill chirping of the game whistle broke him from his trance. Fatigue leached into his limbs and left Keishin feeling like he belonged on the bench instead of navigating his team to victory. Those early morning drills the old man had him running before the match as penance for missing practices were brutal. It was the end of the first set, and despite it being a scrimmage match against Nekoma the pressure was on to stay sharp. Old Ukai stood on the sidelines, those same sharp eyes constantly analyzing and adjusting the strategy as the match unfolded despite the near constant jeers from the opposing coach. The turnout for the match was modest considering the rivalry between the schools had been going on for well over a decade. You sidled into the stands with a member from the Karasuno girl’s volleyball team, eyes alight with the energy of the match. This was what you missed, what you thought you’d lose when you transferred schools to the all girl’s academy- the undercurrent of animosity between teams, the excitement of competition. As you scanned the court, your friend giggled at the sight of the tall, muscular wing spiker from Nekoma wiping the sweat from his eyes with his shirt, allowing them a peek of the defined muscles rippling just beneath his red cotton t-shirt. “He’s pretty cute, don’t you think, Y/n?”

You made a noncommittal noise and continued to scan the court. The whistle blew again, signaling a time-out for Karasuno. The sudden halt in the game drew your attention to the gruff old coach and the shaved head of the younger Ukai. You couldn't quite make out what was said, but your eyes were glued to the bright white number two emblazoned on his back as he made his way onto the court holding his card. “Strange they’re calling him in. Think it’ll change things?” You tore away from his back and pouted at your friend. “I mean...he’s a setter, but he’s not the setter, you know? They must be hurting if they’re calling the benchwarmer in.” You shook your head and returned your attention to the game, eyes resting intently on Keishin’s back as he waited for the play. Brow furrowed, you strained to capture the fleeting recognition as your eyes followed him for the start of the play. The serve from Nekoma was brutal, but dug out and received well by Karasuno. Ukai waited patiently for his moment, giving a short shout as the ball came into his zone. Your eyes remained fixed on him as he set the ball for his own team’s ace, securing another point with a quick attack spike that had you cheering. Hearing your voice echo through the gymnasium, Keishin looked up into the stands and watched with a blushing scowl at your cheering. His teammates congratulated him on a return to rhythm and began another play quickly, all the while he became acutely aware of your eyes on him as he played. Your friend seemed more amused at your reactions to the match than eating the eye candy on the court below. By the end of the match, she was convinced you already carried a torch for a certain bench warming setter. “Y’know...I hear the boys’ team is looking for a new team manager. You should ask Coach about it, Y/n.” “I don’t know, Keimi...Pretty sure the manager needs to go to the same school as the team. Besides, I was hoping I could get back into the game.” “And this would be perfect!” “As a player, Keimi! I don’t know the first thing about managing a boys’ team!” The other girl grinned and nudged you closer to the two Ukai men, waving as she left the gym. “Aah, um, hello, Coach?” “Eh? Oh, it’s you! Come to see the scrimmage?” His gruff voice lilted with the same spark of recognition, but he quietly kept it to himself. You lit up, excitedly recounting your favorite moments while the younger Ukai silently took down the net and moved the match equipment into the equipment storage room. The coach nodded, his sharp eyes resting on you as you settled down. He chuckled, a rare sound from the reaction Keishin gave when he returned to carry another box of match balls off the court. “I take it you know a fair bit about volleyball with that kind of commentary, miss.” His comment made you diminish, sinking back onto your heels as you nervously played with the hem of your jacket. “Ah, you could say that...I just wanted to tell the other setter that he played a really good game!” Your shyness seemed to endear you to Old Ukai that he offered you an even rarer smile. Another pang tore at your chest; was this something else you lost in your abrupt transfer? Did you know him from somewhere through the fog of your spotty memory. The brewing distress bubbling in your thoughts must have read through your wilting expression, but he didn’t draw attention to it. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. In your fretting you failed to notice the older man tracing the pink puckering of your skin along your hairline curving harshly in front of your ear. The shiny scar told him all he needed to know about your predicament. Your mother had become a client of his daughter-in-law’s and a sort of lifeline for Keishin during your sudden absence from your shared classes; it was a tragedy that the old man found hard to swallow. “I’ll pass it on. Is there something else you wanted to say?” Your words caught in your throat as Ukai the younger crossed his arms over his chest and stood next to his grandfather. Under the harsh gaze of two generations of Ukai you floundered, fidgeting as you struggled to get the words out. It was almost too much to bear, having the nostalgia resonate without any true justification. Finally you shook your head and gave a small smile. “I’ll see you around!” And with that, you jogged out of the gym. “What the hell was that about?” “Himewari’s girl was here. She caught the game. Said you played well. Don’t get a big head about it, kid.” Keishin blinked. A compliment? He couldn’t let himself hope that she’d remember everything, but your presence had to mean something. Shaking his head, he mumbled under his breath and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a slight twinge of pride-- you came back to watch his team, to watch him. More importantly, you got to watch him do more than warm the bench. His thoughts went back to the throwaway conversation you had about legacy almost a year ago and for a second he almost fooled himself into thinking you knew what you were talking about in passing. “I’ll see you at home, old man.” ++++ Years flew by, and with their passing you felt the weight of the changes that pulled you away from your youth. Your parents’ sudden split after your accident had you transfer to another school in another city with your father. Your mother stayed behind in Miyagi, the offer to come back and enjoy the stability you grew comfortable with before their eventual divorce always open. You thought it strange in your university days how Miyagi and your memories of it seemed distant, vague. Like they were just barely out of reach so you knew something was missed but you couldn’t quite place what. It wasn’t as if you didn’t completely lose those formative years; sometimes it was a feeling, a general sense of nostalgia when you stepped foot on the court, or when you caught the faint squeaking of shoe rubber on a laminated wood floor. It wasn’t until your mother got sick that you decided it was time to pick up your life and move back in with her. Finding a teaching job wouldn’t be too difficult. You viewed the transition as a chance to start off fresh. When you arrived in Miyagi, your cousins met you at the train station. The drive to your mother’s was awkward at best. Conversation attempts were met with half-hearted replies and years of apathy. It was a relief when your oldest cousin Miyuki pulled into the driveway. Your mother sat in the sunroom, patiently awaiting your arrival. “Mama,” you called, setting your bags down in the foyer. She let you wander the modest home until you found her calmly tending to her houseplants. She smiled warmly and in that moment you felt like maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad change. You rushed over to embrace her; she felt so much smaller in your arms than you remembered. She pushed you away to look up into your face, turning it left, then right. “You haven’t been eating enough, Y/n.” “Mama,” you sighed, pulling your head back. “I’m eating just fine. It’s hard when the kids have exams and training camps.” She leveled a deadpan glare at your diversion and wheeled herself out of the sun room and into the kitchen. “What? You know those kids are--” “They’re your life’s work. I know, Y/n. How can you expect to keep up with them when you’re lagging behind? Take care of yourself!” You blanched under your mother’s chiding. You knew she was right, and as much as it hurt for you to admit you were going to miss your students it wasn’t the time to dwell. As you chopped vegetables for dinner prep, your mother wheeled herself around in her wheelchair gathering spices and the rice cooker. “I...I think I have orientation tomorrow,” you murmured, tossing in your chopped spring onion and moving on to a large daikon radish. “I hope it goes well. I’d hate to get lost.” Your mother nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. Her expression was wistful, almost sad as you fretted over your new job. It had been almost a decade since the accident left you both in the hospital and changed everything. While you were lucky to be alive, the rest of the family had to wonder which one was luckier-- your mother lost the use of her legs, but you lost whole years. The silver scar along your hairline was the only reminder you had from that rainy evening when your world turned upside-down. “I don’t think you’ll get lost, Y/n. If you do, maybe you’ll find a handsome teacher to show you around!” Your cheeks flushed a deep red at the thought, withdrawing into yourself. “You aren’t getting any younger, you know...and I’d like to see my grandchildren before I’m too old to enjoy them!” “Mother!” you shrieked, cheeks ablaze with embarrassment. You barely had a handle on your life as a single adult, let alone adding a potential husband and child to the mix. The older woman hummed, carefully measuring out rice and stock for the meal, giving you a moment to collect yourself. Tomorrow would come sooner than you thought.

“Here’s the faculty lounge. And this here is hallway B. Any questions so far?” You shook your head and followed the friendly face through the halls. “I’m Takeda, by the way. I teach Japanese literature.” His hand hovered between you, his smile disarming you for a moment before you reached to take it. “Y/n. I’m the new biology teacher. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded and continued to lead you out of the building to the gym complexes. Takeda opened the door to Gym 3 and invited you in; suddenly that familiar wave of nostalgia washed over you as the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Team ran their drills under the watchful eye of their coach and team manager but you couldn’t place why. It was a familiar rhythm, though the cadence of their team was still off somehow. Takeda ran over to the sidelines with the coach and you lingered by the bleachers, slowly making your way over. Distracted, your eyes fell on the impressive black banner hanging off the balcony but your legs continued to move. It was the last thing you remembered seeing before everything went black. “Nice going, your majesty.” “Shut up!” “Miss, are you okay?!” “Back it up. I said back off! Give her some air for fuck’s sake.” It was an all too familiar sight when you opened your eyes. Sharp eyes and bleach-blond hair swam into view with the worried faces of who you guessed were the players running their drills. Recognition flickered across the blond thug’s face and he chuckled darkly, helping you to your feet. “Funny seeing you here again.” His voice was a low, rasping growl, a sound you couldn’t place but hovered at the edge of memory.

“What do you mean again?” The question bubbled up without a second thought. Disappointment stung worse than outright rejection. “Have we met before..?”

Takeda rushed over and panicked as you rubbed your forehead with a soft moan. “Y/n, are you okay?!” You waved him off and nodded, searching the thug’s face for some kind of answer. “I see you’ve met Coach Ukai.” The blond’s hand lingered on your back a moment longer than you felt comfortable with, but his name sparked something- recognition maybe. “I thought Ukai was retired...and older,” you replied, earning a scowl from the blond coach. “Unless...no.” The coach scowled, arms crossed over his broad chest. “So you remember the old man but you forgot me?” “I know him by reputation. His coaching method was efficient if a little unorthodox.” Takeda stepped in, glancing nervously between the two of you like he was about to mediate a battle between a lion and a wolf. “But you...I don’t think we’ve ever met before.” “Kageyama, drop and give me twenty. The rest of you, run that new play again. Third tempo.” He brushed past you and Takeda, but you weren’t about to let it go. You followed him to the outside of the gym and watched him pull out an abused pack of cigarettes. There was an odd kind of practiced grace that he exuded as he lit the paper and inhaled fire into his lungs. “What?” “I’m...I’m sorry,” you murmured, shyly looking away. Your words only barely registered, a brow raise and low hum the only reply you received. “There’s these...lapses in my memory.” “Can’t say I’m surprised. You make it a habit of taking serves to the head?” That touched a nerve. Flustered, you jabbed a finger into his chest and glared. “I’ll have you know I was a great player!” He grinned, inhaling another drag and blowing the smoke from his nose like some kind of dragon.

“Doubtful. The court isn’t a place for little girls, Y/n.” “How...I never gave you my name, jerk.” “Didn’t need to. It’s hard to forget a face like yours.” “Ugh, your poor wife,” you groaned, turning back into the gym. Keishin scoffed and flicked the ash from his cigarette with mild amusement. Though it stung to see your doe eyes alight with excitement in his gym again, there was something that warmed him to the thought of you being closer again. He might have been a pig, but that wasn’t going to keep you from finishing your tour. Keishin watched as you retreated, your gray slacks hugging your hips perfectly as they swayed with every step. He chuckled with a shake of his head and finished his cigarette with another long drag. Curiously, he returned to find you giggling with Takeda and Shimizu. While he only caught part of the conversation, he had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. Daichi picked up and had the team running the same play, this time in second tempo to perfect the new quick attack. “...So like I was saying, it’d be great to have you help us out!” Takeda finished. You nodded thoughtfully, eyes wandering to the team as they ran their play. Shimizu nodded in agreement, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I mean, you seem to have a strong sense of play,” he added sheepishly. “Definitely more of an idea than I did when I was asked to be a club advisor.” “Nope. We don’t need a little girl telling us how we need to be playing,” Ukai interjected. “Their formations are wrong. You can’t expect your upperclassmen to carry the team when you’re in a rebuild season. It’s irresponsible to think that you can attain victory while being so sloppy. It’s a disgrace to Ukai’s legacy.” He flinched at your words and unzipped his track jacket, throwing it onto the bench. “Big talk from such a little girl. You’ll eat those words.” The boys stopped their drill to watch the exchange. Nishinoya nudged Tanaka in the ribs and whispered loudly, “He’s not thinking what I think he’s thinking, is he?” Tanaka shrugged, unable to pull his attention away from the exchange as you kicked your heels off and pulled your hair back into a low pony-tail. Takeda stammered out something about a challenge being unnecessary, about how it was just an idea bringing you in as an assistant coach and that it shouldn’t be taken seriously but his pleading was ignored. The boys cleared the court, barring the three upperclassmen and the libero, grateful for the break and the show. You stretched, leaving your gray blazer on the bench with your heels. The feeling of polished wood under your bare feet had your fingers and toes tingling in anticipation. Daichi threw you the ball and you looked up quizzically. “House rules- visitor’s got first serve.” Sugawara nodded from his spot at the net while Asahi and Nishinoya waited on the opposite side with their coach. He grinned sadistically from his spot behind the net. “Good luck, little girl.” You bounced the ball once, twice, three times before falling into form behind the boundary line. Keishin waited for the inevitable serve, unaware of what he possibly was getting himself into...that is, until you threw the ball up in an unmistakable running jump serve. His eyes followed as your frame flew gracefully to meet the ball mid-air in a vicious driving serve. With the game in motion, you bounded back into formation, tracking the ball as the libero failed to dig your serve back to Keishin for a set. Stunned, Keishin let out a low growl and tossed the ball back over the net into Sugawara’s capable hands. “Lucky shot.” Daichi raised a brow with a grin. “Yeah! Betcha can’t do it again!” Noya chimed in. You caught the ball and bounced it again, taking your spot behind the service line. Once again, you flew to meet the ball in another near-flawless jump serve. Even Kageyama stood by, impressed by your form, the hangtime your body had before connecting with the ball. “It’s almost like she has wings,” Shimizu mused. Tanaka stood by, jaw slack, still stuck on the fact you were playing three-on-three in business casual dress. Noya dove to save your serve and Keishin adjusted to set up Asahi for a straight spike. Daichi dove to save, giving you a chance to dart into position when Suga readied his set. “Don’t hesitate!” you huffed, smiling brightly. This sensation, this indelible feeling of joy that came with playing the game had you feeling like it was the only thing that mattered. Your lost memories didn’t matter. The faces left forgotten didn’t matter. Nothing but the moment and the movement that came with perfecting the game, that was what truly mattered. Taking your direction, Sugawara tossed the ball daintily, allowing just enough air-time for you to meet it with another impressive jump. Your cross spike echoed as it connected with the floor, drowning out the grumbling of the head coach eating his words. Hinata whistled and jumped excitedly on the sidelines. “Looks like someone’s eating crow. That’s 2 and 0. Still think it’s just luck?”

With a huff, he glanced over at his three-man team and shook his head. “Fine, you’ve got some skill, but that doesn’t mean shit.” He threw the ball back over the net at you, scowl deepening. The match went on for another four sets before Ukai conceded. His sharp eyes watched your frame loosen up as you readied for another serve. The underclassmen on the sidelines watched with interest, especially Kageyama. The King of the Court analyzed your posture before you approached the line. He almost recognized the way your muscles coiled before the toss, how you crouched before throwing yourself into the jump to complete the serve. “Save it!” Asahi yelled, diving for the serve before it hit the floor. You wiped your brow and grinned at the coach sweetly, chest heaving slightly under your white collared blouse. You glowed as Daichi and Sugawara exchanged high-fives with you. With the color back in your cheeks and the smile you graced him with, Keishin Ukai stood stunned on three levels. How could you waltz back into his gym and not remember him? How could you come back and royally serve him on his home turf with his own team? How could you do it and look so breathtakingly stunning doing it? The boys gathered around and began drilling you with questions, each one more invasive than the last. “Where did you learn to do that?” “Yeah, you serve way better than Kageyama for sure!” “I take it you’ve played before?” “I take it you’re single?” Overwhelmed, you waved your hand and laughed, riding out the endorphin high. Takeda stepped in and handed you a towel and your shoes, dazed by your display of skill. Finally Keishin spoke up after shooing the boys away to the locker room. “C’mon. We’re leaving. Practice is over.” He pulled you by the arm and out of the gym with your shoes still in hand. “And you’re telling me more about where you learned to serve like that.” “Ah, I kind of need to get home…” you began, only to be silenced by his intense glare. “Or not. I guess I’ll tell them to not wait up?” He grunted with a nod and continued to lead you down the sunlit streets. The two of you must have looked odd, mismatched for a dinner date. Could you even call it a dinner date? He brought you to his own small flat, tilting his head inside the door for you to follow his lead. He rummaged through the fridge for something while you settled yourself at the table, legs tucked neatly under you. Greeted with the tinkling of glass bottles, he popped the top off his bottle and handed you the bottle opener, his eyes appraising you all the while. “So, where does a little girl learn to serve like that?” “I played through uni, but spent my second and third years of high school at Niiyama.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should call you little queen instead?” You sipped your beer and relaxed into your seat a little. He settled beside you and continued to watch as you made small little fidgeting movements, fussing with the pleats in your slacks, or how that one stubborn lock of hair wouldn’t stay tucked behind your ear. “So...what brought you back to Karasuno?” “My mother. She’s not well, and...I can’t just let her live by herself. It was easier for me to move out here than for her to come to me.” “And where were you before?” He took another sip, constantly appraising you. Did he dare tell you how he had been delivering your mother’s groceries and driving her to her appointments in your absence? Would it be worth seeing your reaction at this stage in the game? “I was a teacher at Shiratorizawa.” His eyes widened at that as he fumbled for his lighter. “I take it you did more than just teach there.” Your cheeks flushed and you looked down at your knees, holding the cold bottle against your legs. “I also coached the girl’s team until they found a full-time head coach for their rebuild season. The girls begged me to stay on as assistant coach. I couldn’t refuse.” You smiled fondly at the memory of your girls cheering and laughing during your last training camp with them. Your sudden shyness didn’t go unnoticed. “You know...your boys have a great foundation, but they lack refinement.” He shook his head and took a long drag from his cigarette, the tip burning bright red in the enclosed space. “You sound like the old man.” “You can’t bank everything on raw power alone. You need direction, finesse. Strategy. As a setter, as a coach you know this!” You sat in silence for a few moments after your outburst before he broke it with another sigh. “We don’t need another coach, little girl. But maybe...you could come help us with refining our younger players.” You grinned and nodded your head. “And maybe we’ll have a little rematch.” “Sure thing, Coach.” His heart skipped a beat, then two at your gentle teasing. This was comfortable, far more cozy than he would have expected your reintroduction would be. You eased back into his life as if you had never left or forgotten him or your almost-firsts from your years at Karasuno. Part of him wondered if you felt it, too. “Keishin. Call me Keishin.” Maybe forgetting your first meeting wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe a fresh start wouldn’t hurt, so long as he could keep it professional. One beer turned into two and you found yourself giggling into the table. Never one to handle your liquor, you hummed tunelessly while the blond watched. He slid in beside you and pulled your beer from your spot at the table, essentially cutting you off for the evening. You pouted sweetly at him and pushed your hair behind your ear again, his eyes following the motion of your fingers running through the dark hair. He caught the silver thread running the length of your hairline behind your left ear and stopped himself from asking the obvious question. “You want to ask about my scar. Figures a setter wouldn’t miss a detail like that,” you slurred with a giggle. “I don’t remember, but I’m told there was a car crash. Drunk driver, roll-over. My mom made it out worse than I did in the long run...but…” Your face grew somber, mind reaching for something just out of reach. “I have problems remembering anything that came before that accident, Keishin.” There it was-- the ghost of pain raking its cold fingers between you. Keishin took another swig from his beer and let the silence between you grow heavy until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Must have been pretty traumatic for you to forget.” You nodded numbly, smiling grimly. “They call it dissociative amnesia. I still get flickers, but...It’s like being trapped in a thick mist. And everything that came before being cut out of my mom’s car is on the other side, but...but I can’t…” Your eyes filled with frustrated tears as you struggled to get the words out. “Sorry,” you sniffled. Keishin rested his hand on your back, slowly rubbing small circles into the thin fabric of your collared shirt as you fought to collect your emotions. You leaned into his touch and rested your head into his shoulder letting the stray tears fall. Sensing his window was opening, he seized opportunity with both hands and pulled you closer, still rubbing those small circles into the small of your back. “I remember you used to come to every game when you were a Karasuno student.” A hiccup bubbled up from your chest and had you relaxing into his hand. “I remember thinking you were just there for the show, to stare at us guys on the court, but you kept proving me wrong.” He pulled you into the warmth of his arms, carefully gauging your reaction, and rested his chin on the top of your head as he continued. “You might not remember, but I definitely do.” “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

You felt his grin against your hair. “Like a steel trap, Y/n.” Keishin’s grin wavered as you settled into his warmth. He wanted to tell you how flustered he could make you with a look, or how you could get his heart racing when you screamed his name during his matches; you were always loudest when he came onto the court. In the back of his mind he wondered if maybe seeing the old man would help jog your memory. Would it even matter this late in the game? His fingertips danced gently against the seams of your blouse, his nose burying into the dark, silken waves of your hair. The slow, steady rhythm of your breaths tipped him off on your dozing. Your phone lit up with a text notification; it was Takeda. Jealousy was a hunger pang he hadn’t felt since he was a student. I.Takeda- Hey, Y/N! I wanted you to have the practice schedule just in case you changed your mind. :D See you soon!

It was stupid for him to be jealous. He was just a coworker, and one kind enough to show you around. It was harmless. Four-eyes was harmless. As you rested against his chest, a singular thought replayed on a loop in the back of his mind. “Maybe I’m taking this too fast for her.” You nuzzled into his warmth with a small, dopey grin and for a moment he swore he heard you sigh his name. For now it would be enough for him. He’d tuck your forgotten schoolgirl crush away carefully between sheets of rice paper. He’d remain cautiously optimistic that maybe you’d look at him with those same doe-eyes, that you’d give him the chance he didn’t give you before your world went black. You were weightless in his arms, unsurprising considering your size. Keishin carried you to his bedroom, carefully pulled your slacks off one leg at a time, and tucked you into his bed. He stood in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest before pulling out his own cell phone. The glow of the screen was a soft blue as he searched his contacts for a familiar surname. He let out a long sigh when the woman on the other end picked up, voice terse, frantic even. “Himewari, you can call off the search party. She’s here.” “Keishin, thank goodness! I was so afraid when she didn’t come home.” He winced, groaning in shame. “Yeah, that’s my fault. I...kinda twisted her arm into coming home with me. But she’s safe. Asleep, but safe.” “She just couldn’t stay away, could she?” The amusement playing in the older woman’s voice was painfully apparent. Fingers fumbled with the lighter as he clenched a cigarette between his lips. “Could have told me she was an ace, Himewari.” “And ruin the surprise? It broke her heart to leave her girls, Keishin.” “I can only imagine. Get some rest, Himewari. I’ll bring her back in the morning.” “Be careful with her, Keishin. And don’t forget my groceries Thursday.”

Morning came too soon for the former setter. Sprawled out on the couch, still dressed in his tracksuit, he groaned out into the pale yellow light. His headband sat forgotten on the coffee table with another two empty bottles and a dingy ashtray. He cracked a tired, tawny eye open to find you humming and bouncing on the balls of your feet as you scoured the kitchen for mugs. He sat motionless on the couch for a few moments more until he heard your footfalls draw closer. He could smell it- the hot, welcoming bitterness of the dark roast swilling in the mugs you brought over. A small smile crept over his features before he could stop it. It felt right, you sashaying through the room, legs bare with coffee to share was something he could grow used to. It was the most recent sleepover you shared with him since you began working at Karasuno. Your workshops with the volleyball club ran later and later until Takeda was forced to shut the lights down and you would begrudgingly leave the game on the court. Dressed in one of Keishin’s oversized t-shirts, you pulled your hair to one shoulder and gently nudged him with a warm hand. “Keishin,” you whispered, smiling softly when he inhaled deeply. “C’mon, Keishin.” He woke and wrinkled his nose. “‘S’early, little girl.” “It’s nearly eleven. We’re going to be late for practice.” “I’m going to be late, little girl,” he sighed, gratefully taking a hot mug from your hand and scowling after he took a sip. “Shit, too fucking sweet,” he growled out. You stifled a giggle and shook your head, gesturing at the mug you had placed next to his cigarettes. “Coffee isn't supposed to be sweet, Y/n.” “It’s not for you, genius.” You stood up, rising to your full height and cocked one hip to the side, leveling him with a bemused smirk all your own. In a way, it all felt comfortable, like this was how life was supposed to be. Even with sleep weighing his features down he was handsome. His hair was spun gold glinting in a pale yellow-gray morning. The spark of his lighter and the plume of blue-gray smoke that followed only drew your gaze back to him, the casual curve of his spine as he huddled over his first of what you learned would be many cups and travel mugs worth of coffee to offset the hangover he no doubt was still feeling. “Why do you always take the couch, Keishin? Don’t trust yourself?” You leaned into him, the flash of collarbones and soft skin enticing, teasing him to reach out and brush those long fingers along the line of your chest under his t-shirt. “I...uh, we’re colleagues. Coaches, it wouldn’t be--” “I’m just teasing you, Keishin,” you giggled, brushing his cheek with your lips in an innocent peck. His cheeks betrayed him, flushing deep scarlet as you withdrew to the bedroom. He took a drag and shook his bedhead. “Besides!” you called out as you hurriedly dressed for your own day. “I’ve got a meeting with the vice principal about the girls’ team. Guess their coach left them in the lurch and someone let slip a few things from my resume.” You bounded out with your messenger bag and your heels in hand, dressed in a dark blue pencil skirt and pale gray quarter-sleeve blouse that set his blood on fire. “Want me to walk you?” You shook your head and flashed him an impish grin, one he had grown to love over the past months. “We’re both going to the same place, after all.” “I think I can manage, Keishin.” He furrowed his brow, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you as you pulled away from him. “Y/n, let me.” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Let me walk you just to make sure you get there safely.” There it was again, that pang of unease ripping through him like a razor through wet paper, like if he let you walk out that door he’d never see you again. “Please,” he murmured, dropping his hand. His cigarette smoldered in his free hand to the filter, forgotten in lieu of your departure. You hesitated, eyes furiously searching his face for answers as he pouted back. “Fine. But hurry up. I can’t be late again, Keishin!”

You bounced anxiously in your seat in the vice principal's office. The club advisor, a stern looking woman with her graying hair cut short sat beside you. "So, I hear you coached at Shiratorizawa."

"Um, yes. Assistant coach." You sunk a little under her imperious gaze and she cracked a smile. "You're in the math department."

"I am. It goes without saying that we need a coach. Be a shame for you to squander your skills." Nodding thoughtfully, you chewed on the inside of your cheek and let her finish. So they didn't know about your impromptu workshops with the boys' team. Silently you thanked Takeda for his discretion.

"So, how about it? I think we could really give our third years a worthy send off with you at the helm."

You couldn't fight the smile if you tried. Taking her hand, you shook it firmly and breathlessly murmured, "When do we start?"

"RUN IT AGAIN!" Daichi roared from the back line, Suga serving the ball over the net, only to be received by Noya on the other side. Asahi watched on as Yamaguchi fumbled a block and Tsukishima scoffed at the loss. Ukai scratched the back of his neck as Shimizu made notes on her clipboard for you to review. She and Yachi appreciated having another female presence in the club, even if it was a clandestine partnership at best. "Come on, guys, where's the hustle?"

"Himewara's not here," Takeda murmured thoughtfully. Ukai nodded absently and said nothing. "Sometimes I think the team plays better when she's around."

"Asahi, get in there and show Tsuki how it's done. Hinata, where's the focus?" Keishin snarled. Takeda shrank under his roar and sighed as Ennoshita missed another block. "Just because Himewari isn't here doesn't mean you can just dick around!"

The attention in the gym was pulled to the opening of a door and suddenly all eyes were on you. Your chest was heaving, a smile lighting your features and making you seem years younger. It was the same look you had when you had a chance to play.

"Hime-chan!" Noya hooted, bounding over only to be held back by Asahi by the tail of his shirt. "Lemme go, Asahi!" Your laugh carried through the gym like music on the wind as you jogged over, heels in hand to the coach and managers.

"I got the job," you huffed breathlessly. Keishin's eyes widened. All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room, the edges of his vision growing hazy. A sickening knot in the pit of his stomach twisted in on itself and it was hard to breathe around the nagging pang of angst. It was what you wanted, to be involved in the game again. Why couldn't you be involved in his?

Takeda spoke first, hand resting supportively on the coach's shoulder. "That's great! Congratulations! I'm sure you'll be leading our Lady Crows to victory in no time!"

"Guess that makes you the Queen Crow, right, Himewari?" Tanaka grinned. Hinata jumped for reciprocal joy, squealing about how he couldn't wait to watch you kick their counterpart team into shape to take the W.

"What about our workshops, coach? We were just beginning to perfect that sneak attack with Hime-"

"Stop, stop, guys," you began, pushing the boys away as they closed in. "I'll still be around to help, but my team will have to come first." That one hurt- a wince flitted across Keishin's usually stoic face, an expression he had hoped you'd miss but he knew he wasn't slick or lucky enough for that.

Did it mean that you'd stop coming around? No more impromptu sleepovers? No more dinner dates with Shimoda and the other alums? No more whispering sweet nothings into your hair as you snuggled into his pillows? The longer he thought on what your new position meant, the sicker he felt. Without another word, he brushed past the team and beelined for the door.

"Michimiya's going to be excited to get started, Himewari," Daichi commented off handedly as you rose on your toes to see past the sea of bodies blocking Ukai's departure from view.

"Excuse me," you sighed, following the same track set before you by the setter-turned coach. You found him in his usual spot, leaned against the brick and mortar on the far side of the gym, puffing away at another cigarette to calm his fraying nerves. "Keishin. Keishin, what's the matter?"

Silence.

Undeterred, you pushed on, grabbing him by the muscular forearm. "Keishin," you said firmly, eyes burning up at him with concern. "You can't tell me you didn't see this coming…

"This is huge, Keishin. We can both lead our teams to victory without being rivals. Keishin, say something!"

He continued to blow smoke into the midday sky wordlessly. His mind raced, fitfully searching for a rationale behind the sudden surge of emotion he felt. He should be proud, but he only felt threatened. What was he going to be to you after today? Would he just be another face? Would you forget him again?

"I won't be just another forgotten memory again," he murmured, more to himself than his audience. You pulled on his black sleeves and frowned up at him, repeating his name as if it would pull him back to you.

His lips tasted like smoke and salt, the flash of hair and skin that followed, the tangle of fingers through raven hair and the sensation of all the air forcing from your lungs made you dizzy. Keishin gave a gentle tug of your lower lip with his teeth and pulled your head back by the hair, baring that delicate throat to his wandering mouth.

"I won't be forgotten, little girl," he growled, the rumbling of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Be mine and earn your wings, little girl." The drag of his teeth along your neck sent you into a frenzy. "Or just be mine."

Whimpering, you wrapped your arms around his neck and fell into his advances. It was always him; his face was always the one just out of reach when you'd struggle to remember your life before the accident. There was never another after and there never would be.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! hq #ukai x reader #keishin ukai #ukai fluff #big daddy crow needs more loving

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fandom-fatale · 3 years

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Start With Tomorrow- Tobio Kageyama

Note: This is my first ever post on this blog! Hope people can enjoy! Warnings: None

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The air was filled with heavy breathing and the sound of Hinata’s feet pounding against the polished gym floors, spiking the ball Kageyama had just set for him. It slammed against the wall next to the door with a noise like thunder cracking.

“Again!” Kageyama called, and immediately, Hinata was running again.

They’d been at it since practice had ended hours ago, Ukai leaving them to it with a reminder to please, for the love of god, lock the doors when they left. He’d said something else, too, but by that point neither of them had been paying any attention, already totally focused on their self-practice.

“Again!”

“Hold on, Kageyama,” Hinata finally requested, bending over and putting his hands on his knees.

“You can rest later, we need to practice now. We have a match against Nekoma in two days, and we’ll never beat them as we are now.”

“I know,” Hinata groaned, “but breaks are important.”

“There’s nothing more important than volleyball!”

“Yeah,” a voice at the door made Kageyama tense, “I can see that.”

“Y/N!” Hinata straightened, a grin on his face as he spotted you, standing at the door in a dress, with a takeout bag in your hand. “It’s late, what’re you doing here?”

As Kageyama’s girlfriend, you were a common sight in the Karasuno Gym, but you were never there as late as it was now.

“I dunno,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend, who clutched the volleyball in his hands like a lifeline, his eyes reflecting his sudden horror. “Why am I here, Tobio?”

He didn’t answer, and Hinata didn’t pick up on the tense atmosphere that suddenly filled the gym. He continued to chatter away, coming up to your side like an excited puppy. “You can stick around for the rest of our solo-practice! If you sit on the bleachers, you won’t ruin your pretty dress! Hey, why are you all dressed up, anyway?”

You couldn’t help but smile at Hinata, despite the hurt and anger that boiled inside of you. It wasn’t actually his fault that Kageyama had forgotten you, and his excitable energy was always infectious. It was one of the reasons you liked him so much.

“Well, Hinata, I had a date.” Your eyes slid back to your boyfriend, who began anxiously spinning the volleyball in his hands, before tossing it into the volleyball cart. Under your scrutiny, he picked up the balls scattered around the court.

Clearly, practice was over.

Hinata let out an amused snort, still grinning. “Yeah, a date, right. How were you on a date if-” the grin started to slip off his face as realization struck him. “-Kageyama was here.”

Ukai’s parting words suddenly came back to him, “Don’t forget about your date, Kageyama.”

And what did they do? They’d forgotten about the date.

“Aw, man.” Hinata glanced between you and Kageyama, suddenly fearful for his friend. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna stay here and clean the gym. You go ahead and head out, Kageyama.”

“Thanks,” Kageyama said, reaching down to grab his gym bag. He still couldn’t look at you as he joined you at the door, couldn’t say anything as you both left, side by side. He knew to let you silently think about how to put your feelings into words. As he watched you think, he saw the exact moment you decided not to be angry, settling instead on tired disappointment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you said, “So there’s nothing more important than volleyball, huh?”

Immediately, Kageyama was rushing to defend himself, “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t.”

You nodded as you both turned onto his street. “I do know that. But, you promised it was going to be different here. It’s not.”

Kageyama winced. Back before he’d started at Karasuno, when your relationship was shiny and new, he’d been a completely different person. He remembered the neglect he’d put you through because of volleyball, all the arguments that had ensued. He remembered how you’d slammed your hands onto his desk, a week before middle school graduation, and demanded to know if he even liked you, or if he’d only asked you out because he was popular, and so were you. That fight had been particularly harsh, but it had ended with him realizing that you were the best thing in his life.

He’d made a promise to you, and himself, that he’d never make you feel like that again- like you were less than. He realized now that he’d broken that promise.

“I’m sorry,” he said, opening the door to his house, allowing you inside before following you in. After putting on happy faces for his family and settled into his bedroom, he continued, “I got caught up. I know it's not an excuse, but it’s all I have. I also know I already had my second chance, and I don’t deserve another.”

“Probably not,” you chuckled, opening the takeout bag and setting a box with chopsticks in front of him. He popped open the container to find his favorite meal.

Even when you were mad at him, you still thought of him. He looked up at you with furrowed brows.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N. I could spend the rest of my life trying, and I’d still never end up deserving you. But I’d like to try, even if it does end up taking the rest of my life. If you’d let me.”

“I don’t know about forever, Tobio,” you admitted. “But let’s start with tomorrow, and take it from there.”

“I can agree with that.”

And when you smiled at him and reached over to steal a bite of his dinner, Kageyama knew that the two of you were okay.

#anime imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#tobio kageyama imagine #tobio kageyama

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itsbenedict · 4 years

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I didn’t post about everything I played this year, so here’s my opinions on the stuff I played that I didn’t make a rec post for:

Raging Loop

Raging Loop is one of them twisty meta Zero Escape-y branching-path visual novels where an ensemble cast is trapped in a mysterious circumstance where people are dying gruesomely, and you have to find out what’s happening and stop it by looping a bunch.

I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it, because... it tries to have its cake and eat it too with the supernatural elements. Clearly magic is real and has important impacts on the scenario, but then other parts are trickery you’re supposed to see through, and it’s entirely uninterested in cluing you in to how that trickery was accomplished. Not exactly a fair play mystery, in that regard- you have to kind of just be along for the ride, rather than try to figure it out.

That said, it’s a good ride- pretty strong character writing, and the central conceit of the Werewolf/Mafia-style murder scenario creates really interesting drama. It’s more concerned with making itself feel clever than letting the player feel clever, but it’s still well-paced and gripping and has a pretty decent resolution.

Detective Grimoire

I recommended Tangle Tower, the sequel, pretty strongly- and this one, while obviously a little rougher around the edges with the art and mechanics (the suspicion tracker system is a total dud; I didn’t even realize it existed until I realized I was missing an achievement for using it), it’s still pretty darn good. Really fun character designs and animations, fully-voiced, and a solid whodunit backing it all. Plus- while the two are more or less self-contained, the continuity threads with Tangle Tower raised some really interesting questions.

Contradiction - the all-video murder mystery

This one was pretty fun, largely on the strength of the actors. The main mechanic of interrogating people on evidence and using their own statements against each other was some good stuff, too. Definitely had that Phoenix Wright quality to the deductions, and Jenks is a really fun character. (Had a few points where progression was just linked to standing in a certain previously-abandoned area of the map where a clue was suddenly there for no reason, there- good thing it had a hint system.)

As a mystery, it could use a little work- most of what you end up finding out is sequel bait (for a sequel that never actually came together, unfortunately), and the actual whodunit is just sort of hiding in the cracks of all that. And... cornering the culprit just sort of happens out of nowhere once you’ve got your hands on the right piece of evidence, without much fanfare. You’re following up on leads like usual, you find a little lie in someone’s testimony, and then- oh, shit, they’re just confessing everything! Unlike all the previous times you questioned them and they were super evasive like everyone else! And then the game is over.

All in all, it’s pretty meaty and entertaining and I’d recommend it, but unfortunately the creators have moved on to other things, so there’s not going to be any follow-up on the stuff it left unresolved.

Ikenfell

Ikenfell is a tightly-designed RPG about kids at a magic school, with Paper Mario-style action command mechanics and a battle system that makes a big deal out of careful positioning and movement, which was really enjoyable. The difficulty’s a little high (I recommend always always always speccing into max damage because killing things before they kill you is worth more than any amount of defense, speed doesn’t work, and healing is cheap), but I found it really satisfying.

There’s... something... off? About... I don’t know how to put it, it’s... doing that “yes, everyone is queer and mentally ill, deal with it” thing, which, sure, okay. But for a lot of them it’s such a background thing, like... half the playable cast is unambiguously nonbinary, but like... I don’t know if it’s trying to make some statement on how there are no rules to being NB and you can 100% perform a particular binary gender presentation but still count, or if they wrote the whole story and then changed the pronouns of some of the characters for Representation Points, or what. Probably the former? I dunno, it just feels weird. Maybe I’m just not woke enough to Get It.

(unrelatedly: why the heck is the official art they use everywhere so... off-model? none of them look like they do in-game- they look like the creator commissioned someone to draw a group shot with one reference image each and didn’t tell them anything about the characters. how much you wanna bet they commissioned a friend and it came out wrong but they were too polite to say “sorry, no, this is wrong, can you do it over?”)

Trails of Cold Steel IV

Hoo boy. It’s... not great, and it’s not great in a pretty predictable way for an even-numbered entry in the Trails series. It happens every time- first there’s a game in a new engine with new characters and a new world to explore, and it’s really nice and does interesting things... and then it ends on a cliffhanger, and then there’s a sequel game in the same engine with the same characters and the same world, reusing as many assets as possible. Also the League Of Generically Evil Anime Supervillains is there causing trouble for reasons they refuse to explain, and the plot is a storm of magicbabble and macguffin-chasing that makes little to no sense.

Cold Steel IV is that for Cold Steel III, full stop. Welcome back to all the same places you visited last game, except this time there’s some stupid magic apocalypse happening (not that it stops you from taking the time to do random sidequests constantly, of course). The whole “oh, the evil curse mind controls people and that’s why they do stupid bullshit that’s in no one’s interest” plot point is leaned on super hard, and it’s just a big yawn the whole way through.

It’s still really fun, though, because the battle system remains really well-designed. (The same battle system that was just as fun in Cold Steel III, mind you, but it hasn’t gotten old.) And- though they’re struggling to square it with the dumb mind control apocalypse plot, the NPC dialogue continues to make the world feel believable and lived-in. They don’t slack on the parts that make Trails good- it’s just the parts that make Trails bad are making themselves more evident than ever.

did finally get to date Towa though so that’s a win

One Step From Eden

OSFE is... uh. It’s fucking hard is what it is. It’s sort of a deckbuilding roguelike, and there’s this combat that takes place on a grid, and- wait, it’s like Mega Man Battle Network, it’s exactly like Mega Man Battle Network. Man, I forgot about that, but the mechanical influence is extremely obvious. It’s MMBN meets Slay the Spire.

Except it’s super duper hard as hell, because unlike MMBN you can’t pause and swap out chips or anything- everything is just always happening so much, all at once, everywhere, and you have no recourse but to git gud and learn all the enemy patterns and the behavior of your own spells and develop the twitch reflexes necessary to not fucking die from all the shit that’s on the screen always.

(What’s the story? Uhhhh, there was some kind of magic apocalypse, and some anime girls are trying to reach a city for some reason that doesn’t really get explained ever. The game doesn’t really care to build its world at all- it’s all mechanics plus a little token character dialogue that doesn’t say much.)

The point is it’s really frickin’ hard but I am an epic pro gamer and I got ALL THE ACHIEVEMENTS, MOTHERFUCKER. If you’ve played it, I expect you to be really god damn impressed with me, okay???

A Short Hike

This one was really relaxing! It’s a platformer where you explore an Animal Crossing-y island of cartoon animal people, collecting mobility upgrades- but like, mainly it’s about straight chillin’. The flight controls are fun and there’s lots of little secrets to find and it’s just a nice time that doesn’t drag on too long. Not too much to say about this one.

Pokémon Sword

Ehhhhh.

I’m not here for the hot takes about how Dexit is good actually. Development hell happened, they had to make cuts for time, I get it. It’s disappointing and makes the game a little bit worse, but it’s not the end of the world.

Apart from that... perfectly serviceable? The Wild Area could’ve used a little more technical polish (as could most things in the game, really) but was a step in the right direction, giving the player a wider array of early-game team-building options than ever before. No HMs is good. Story and characters were kind of nothing, but that’s par for the course. “At least this time they’re not shoehorning in some kind of stupid evil-team-wants-legendary-pokemon-to-destroy-the-world apocalypse plot”, I thought to myself before they managed to shoehorn one in at the last minute with zero buildup- but, hey, beats wasting half the game on it.

It’s nothing special and it’s missing a lot of polish, but its problems are mainly due to being rushed, and presumably next gen they’ll be able to reuse a lot of the models and animations (maybe even improve the animations so they’re not so boring??? a man can dream) and make something interesting. SwSh seem like they were testing the waters for something else, and not taking too many chances in the meantime.

(yo why would you sell all these cosmetic items and then turn them all off during gym battles, though)

Hades

Hades is- oh, who am I kidding? Everyone knows Hades, it’s the game of the year, greatest thing since sliced bread, Supergiant are heroes, yada yada yada. I’ve played almost 300 hours of it and I’ve completed everything except all the Resources Director levels (currently a Sigma Wraith), it’s extremely fun and you don’t need me to tell you that.

Petal Crash

It was that thing the Paranatural creator helped on? It’s, uh. It’s a block-sliding puzzle game thing, sort of in a Puyo Puyo vein. It has fun character designs and some good dialogue, like you’d expect from Zack’s involvement, but it didn’t really leave an impression otherwise (besides how got dang infuriating some of its Turn Trial puzzles can be.) The story is... kinda heartwarming, kinda didactic, kinda childish, not especially deep or interesting. Hard for it to be, when it’s told through little bits of fluffy character dialogue that exist to set up a puzzle battle as quickly as possible. Not super recommended unless you really really like block-sliding puzzles.

Hollow Knight

Man, why’d I sleep on this for so long? It’s a metroidvania platformer with heavy Dark Souls inspiration, in terms of tone and difficulty and death mechanics and environmental storytelling. And it’s... apart from all that, just really good as a game, with tight controls and juicy movement and great animation. Progression is linked as much to mastery as it is to upgrades collected- I found myself in lategame areas facing down things that would’ve killed me ten times over at the start- not because I had the best gear, but because I’d learned the game’s language and understood how to move in ways that wouldn’t get me killed.

(Usually. Sometimes I’d walk into a room and sit on a bench and suddenly there’d be a boss fight and I’d get slaughtered. Ain’t that just the way it goes?)

Anyway, on top of all that it’s just charming as hell, with a really unique and well-realized world full of little bug people. I love how, like, your character is clearly some kind of eldritch abomination, but it’s small and cute and so everyone (besides enemies that attack you on sight because they’re possessed by some kinda evil mold) is like “awww, who’s this little guy? want some help, little guy?”

(except Zote, who is just an ass hole. i love him.)

#game rec #also some game non recs #long post

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jojparasol · 4 years

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lights up

i hope yall enjoy this one! i’ll be posting my masterlist soon so look out for that. also while yall are here, please sign petitions - they’re everywhere (even my blog!) do everything you can like donate, sign and reblog because black lives matter <3

the one where they meet again. harry wants her back. Y/N is really happy.

Word count: 1.1k

angst???

Y/N had her focus on the drink in her hands, her head lost as she watched the liquid motionlessly. There was music around her, loud music but she didn’t pay it a second mind, too busy with her presence, enjoying the scenery.

It was Charlotte’s birthday and just like the girl she is, a huge and deserved party was thrown. And although Y/N was once apart of her inner circle yet slowly moved away, she was still close enough to receive a text with all the important details.

There were familiar faces everywhere and she couldn’t deny that she missed every single one of them.

“Is this seat taken?”

Harry had seen her from across the room, and as cliche as that was, he took the stride towards her. She glowed, a dazed smile on her clear face as her eyes drifted off. He knew that she was content with her life, even by the simple glimpse of her sitting alone, basking in her own company. Y/N seemed to change a bit but he still knew that it was his Y/N. Sure, a little trim at the ends of her hair or even the different shade of nail polish she wore, it didn’t change the fact that Harry knew it was still the Y/N he had known for years.

When Charlotte announced to their group that she had invited Y/N, everyone was stepping on stones around Harry, aware of their past. But Harry shrugged, unaware on what to feel and instead, took a quick gulp from the drink in his hands. No one complained because everyone missed her and that included Harry.

Y/N matched the familiar voice with a familiar face. With a modest smile curling on the beckons of her lips, she shook her head. “All yours.”

Harry nodded, obliging and sitting down next to his ex. “So… how’s life?”

Y/N looked up at the ceiling, smile still present as she breathed in the party air. “It’s great, H. Genuinely great.”

And there it was. The truth that Harry expected rolling sweetly off the rims Y/N’s tongue, she was shining like the lights flashing around. Harry watched her, not responding. It was only until Y/N bothered looking back at Harry that he spoke up.

“So what’d you get Charlotte?”

“Oh, a collection of hair accessories. Berets, beanies, hair scarves, all those things. At first, I didn’t know what to get her but with a quick Instagram stalking and remembering that she was complaining one time about hair accessories, I figured it would suit.” Y/N shrugged nonchalantly. “What about you?”

“Brought ‘er and ‘er boyfriend a trip to Rome.”

Y/N scoffed at his easy response, she shouldn’t be as surprised as she is because he did have all the money in the world. Now, it seemed like her gift was nothing compared to his.

“Holy shit.”

Harry nodded. “You’ve always been so thoughtful with your gifts,” he complimented. Y/N laughed.

“And you’ve always been so expensive with your gifts.”

“Well, what can I say? When you’ve got the money…” He joked as Y/N rolled her eyes because although he was teasing, they both knew it was true.

Their conversation shifted to silence. Harry stared at her, pointing out all her features close up where he was able to point out more small changes. She was too busy to notice the lack of talk until all she heard were their soft breaths. Y/N’s eyes met with Harry.

“What are you looking at?”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N took a quick drink from the glass before shaking her head. “You were staring.”

“Do you blame me?” Another shot. She was almost finished by then, drinking up her euphoria. Meanwhile, Harry barely sipped on his glass, running it cold throughout the night. Y/N doesn’t know what has gotten into her but she blames the blast from the past, it’s almost become foreign.

She gulped, her head held high. “I’m sorry by the way.” Y/N paused, taking her time to stare at Harry, her eyes turning to a blurred bloodshot. “At the start, I thought that it’d be sweet if things just stayed the same, y’know? We were at the prime of our relationship.”

Harry knew Y/N when she becomes drunk. She tends to talk, talk about everything that her mind had bottled up. When they say drunk words speak sober thoughts, Y/N was the epitome of that saying. She ranted, her mouth running like rushing water. And all Harry would do was listen with the occasional nod and so Harry treated this occasion like no other.

“But this time, I’m at the prime of myself. Can’t you see? I’m never coming back down. I’m never going back. I don’t think you knew this but there were so many times in our relationship where I sat back and asked myself, ‘Do you know who you are?’ And sometimes, I couldn’t even answer,” she confessed, her voice pitched yet a passionate yearn laced in her tone. Harry swallowed her sayings, trying to understand and remember if he has heard her.

And he remembered. One time, Harry had walked in their bathroom where Y/N stood in front of the mirror with only a towel supporting her body. She was looking at her reflection, repeating the very same words before Harry questioned if she was okay. With a simple smile and kiss to his lips, he was convinced everything was perfect.

“Can you believe it? Got a promotion, new apartment, going to the gym - all that type of adult crap!” Harry snapped back into reality as she continued. When she spoke about all her accomplishments, she shined so brightly it blinded Harry a bit. She became this light and Harry was finally able to step into it, realising how better off she was without him. It was like their relationship was dark and she was finally able to hang these lights up.

Harry couldn’t deny his happiness for her but there was a part of him hoping that striding over to his ex after months that there would be some sort of misery. Misery that he could relate on. The pathetic ‘I miss you’ and ending the night with their bodies tangled together. He missed her and wanted her back.

But after this, he knew that it was impossible. The way she spoke her drunken words was enough for Harry to stop himself from pouring his heart out. Instead, she was running through his heart and creating her way in life without him.

Y/N was humming by now, leaving Harry to listen to her untuned la’s and da’s. All the hope Harry had for a new start was shattered through a jumble of Y/N’s intoxicated expressions.

Allowing himself to take a big sip of the cold liquor that burned down his throat, the glass met loudly with the counter before he sighed, ready to say the words she needed to hear. “I’m happy for you Y/N. Really happy."

#this is really short im sorry! but enjoy anyway #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fic

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palettepainter · 3 years

Note

I’ve got post vaccine (moderna gang) shivers so I need to express fluff headcanons to spread good vibes

When Ecto was planning to propose, he had to keep it so hush hush because Higari can easily find things out. He didn’t tell anyone but higaris mother and his own parents. He was very happy that Higari was actually surprised with the proposal. Higari wears the rings on a necklace- his quirk doesn’t exactly make wedding rings easy to find.

As much as Higari prefers being a support hero, search and rescue jobs that go smoothly it’s very rewarding. He often checks up on those he’s managed to rescue, keeps in touch with some too. There’s this lovely older woman who he rescued from a crumbling retirement home who sends him baked goods every holiday. He visits her every month for tea.

When Ecto is sick, Higari cares for him easily. Even when Ecto acts like he isn’t sick. He’ll make him soup, make sure he’s resting, cold compress on his forehead. As stubborn as he is, ecto appreciates it.

Higaris favorite memory with his dad is digging around in the yard with him. Since they had the same quirks, it worked out. He showed him how to carve tunnels without the ground crumbling, or just played around in the dirt. There’s a picture of Higari when he was three, covered in dirt with his head peaking out of a hole. His dad was grinning, sitting near by like he was cheering him on. Sometimes, especially on days where thinking about his dad is hard, he’ll tell Ecto stories.

As someone who also got shivers after getting a vaccine I know the feeling, how you’re doing well!

Ecto proposing, Yes! I love the idea of Ecto proposing to Higari, and his rugged flirting smirking self just crumbles in the face of Ecto holding a ring to him. Ecto’s eyes are so full of love and he has such a soft grin on his face that Higari can’t help but tearing up, he tries to think of something flirty to say back, but he just can’t. He’s overwhelmed - probably ended up tackling Ecto in a hug with a big kiss, which threw Ecto off guard, thinking at first maybe he’d overwhelmed Higari when he started crying.

Higari wearing is around his neck, also yes. Higari’s wedding ring is the only thing that he will spend careful hours cleaning and polishing at the end of each day to make sure it stays in good condition, wears is around UA proudly - though I imagine for interviews outside of UA or when he’s called out for hero work he leaves it at home in a special box on his dresser or safely tucks it away in a drawer in the design studio, as much as he loves wearing the rink around his neck he dreads the thought of loosing it in a rescue, or having some nosy reports pester him for answers if they catch sight of it.

With Higari’s gear I’m a firm believer he’d be a great rescue hero in say like natural disasters or if a building collapsed. With his giant robotic suit and his know how on construction he could easily map a safe route to evacuate citizens from an unstable building, or quickly find a way to clean up after a land slide. Need to move a giant tree? No problem he’ll move it no prob. Citizen can’t move because they’re leg hurts? He can carry em out to safety. Kids they rescued are bored while they’re waiting for parents to pick them up? Higari tolerates them clambering about on his hero suit like it’s a jungle gym

Anything with Higari caring for Ecto or vise versa is so wholesome! In my NGAU I imagine Higari prolly knows all the tricks to help when someone is sick, he grew up in a big house with tones of little siblings, as kids they got sick a lot with how often they played in the garden and mud, they’ve all got very strong immune systems so it’s rare Higari or his siblings get sick - but Higari still knows all the tricks to help nursing someone back to health. He remembers to give Ecto some medicine, make him some soup, hot water bottle if he’d cold, flannel if he’s too hot and plenty of liquids. A teenie tiny part of Ecto might even enjoy all the attention, appreciating Higari’s concern. Too bad Higari is too stubborn to actually treat himself when he’s sick, with how little he gets sick he doesn’t take it all that seriously - thankfully Ecto is a patient man with many clones, so is willing to drag Higari back to bed if needed XD

And the last one with his dad...

Anon: Are you trying to make me cry-

In my NGAU Powerloader’s dad was all over him, spoiled Higari so so much. Spent many lazy afternoons slacking off work when the missus wasn’t looking to play around with Higari (bragged for like a week straight that he got his quirk, proud dad moment). Higari’s mother came out into the garden to see how the boys where doing, she finds her husband and toddler son covered head to toe in dirt and mud. She gets angry at them, insisting the two need a bath if they want to have dinner. Toddler Higari hated baths from the day he was born apparently, and it’s only until dear old papa gives him a bath is he willing to get clean. His dad puts bubbles in Higari’s hair, and Higari splashes bubbles onto his dads beard, who then makes a silly face to make Higari laugh. Too bad only one hour after tea the two got dirty again-

The first time Higari used his quirk was when he was outside with his dad. His dad was working on fixing up the shed, Higari sitting in a small play pen outside with some toys while his dad stood close by, able to work while also keeping an eye on Higari. Higari, bored of playing with his building blocks, begins to drag his little hands at the ground, and before he knows it he’s tunneling his way to freedome beyond the bounds of his baby playpen. This kind of scneario probably ensued:

Kaigo (PL’s dad): Phew *picks up tool box and turns around* Alright sweetpea, time to go back insi- *freezes when he sees the playpen is empty, and no baby in sight* W-WHAT?! *drops tool box, and rapidly looks around* Uh- H-Higari?! Sweetpea?! Where’d you go?? Come to dad, this isn’t funny! *rushes around a bit*

Higari: *tunnles his way up to the surface in his mothers flowerbed, a small pile of dirt with a flower sticking out the top sitting on his head*

Kaigo: *searching in the bushes* H-Higari?! Higari! Where are you?! *mumbles* Shit I took my eyes off him for two minutes! Where the hell could he-

Higari: BAPA!

Kaigo: *jumps and whirls around*..*heaves and sigh and rushes over* Oh thank god! *scoops him into his arms for a hug* You stupid lil’ ankle biter! Don’t you ever do that again! *holds him out at arms length* How in the world did you even get out??

Higari: *sneezes from the dirt, making the flower fall off his head*

Kaigo:..Wait. Did..D-Did you, DIG your way out?!

Higari: *incoherent baby noises*

Kaigo;...Ooooh you are in SO much trouble young man, you know how many years off my life you just took? Huh?...*scowls as Higari giggles* Oh so you think this is FUNNY?-

Higari: *grabs his nose* BA!

Kaigo:............*sighs* You’re damn lucky you’re cute, you know that?...Uh, how about we DON’T tell your Ma about this, okay?

Ever since then his dad had to watch him like a hawk, one minute Higari was sitting playing with his toys, the next he was trying to dig his way to the other side of the world. When he was old enough his dad did give him some lessons in how to dig safely so the ground wouldn’t become unstable. I imagine Higari may have madea few tunnels as a kid that where too close to the surface, and his very unsuspecting mum and dad would just sink into the ground collapsing an old tunnel Higari made. And Higari having pictures?? YES. His mum probably has a whole stash of pictures of Higari as a baby playing outside with his dad and her. Including the embarrassing photos, the kind of photos Higari would never want Ecto to see, but his mum showed him anyway.

Now I wanna write angst with Powerloader and his dad aaaaa-

#Powerloader #Powerloader family #MHA #Headcannons #Higari

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Worth Fighting For (Part: Two)

summary: You’re entirely certain George is the one. So he hasn’t got to put up much of a fight… but in a way, that’s all he knows to do.

a/n: Now is a good time to mention that I know nothing about boxing. My only refreance is a movie about mma and one nights worth of basic research. But all that matters is I'm having buckets of fun writing this! The angst starts to creep in this chapter. Let me know what yall think!

w/c: 4k

Part 1

───※ ·❆· ※───

It was the end of an exceptionally long weekend. You'd managed to throw together last minute choreography for the kids school play, taught a wedding party how to waltz, and helped a friend nail her audition for a foreign dance company.

It was easy as ever, with a broken hand. But everything else was increasingly difficult. You were still getting used to using your one, lame hand to do laundry and cook dinner. But at least you could still dance.

There was nothing better than pumping the music and moving until it ached. Until all you had to worry about was locking up and racing home to shower, and all the things you'd been anxious about all week had long fled to the very back of your mind.

But the weekend was over, and you didn't have an excuse to stay in the studio now that all the kids who came to learn were long gone. But you had a perfectly sound reason for taking longer to do you post class stretches. As you took your sweet time sliding into your jacket and switching out the lights, you kept your eye on the window to the hallway. You tried not to look too obvious, but there was a silly, desperate hope inside of you; to see George.

The gym door remained shut, raucous music thumbing from somewhere deep inside, as you dragged your feet out in the hall. You tried not to look like you were casting glances over your shoulder, or seem too disappointed when you found no one there. When the door to your studio was locked and your adrenalin from class dwindled away, you went on your way.

And while you tried not to think about the funny feeling you got in your chest at the thought of George, you shoved open the door to the parking lot. The sky was a bleak grey and a chill crept past your layers of brightly colored clothes.

"Took you long enough." A voice crept close over your shoulder, causing you to spin around with a gasp.

George was leaning against the stone of the building, the hood of his pale jacket up over his head, strong arms crossed over his broad chest.

"How's your hand?" He asked, like he really cared to know.

"Oh, I'm managing." You decided with a smile, happening to glance at George's. "How's yours?" You asked, noticing bruises on his knuckles that weren't there the weekend before.

George seemed confused, for a beat, before glimpsing down at his fingers.

"Oh, this is nothing." He said. And before you could choose one the dozens of questions you had, you decidedly moved on.

"What are you waiting on?" You asked in a nervous giggle, glancing to his car a few parking spaces away.

"You, obviously." George rose a brow and reached for his bulky canvas bag that rested near his feet. You watched his lean figure shift as he carried the weight over one shoulder and stepped closer.

"Come on, It's my turn to treat you to DeAngelo's." He explained, walking past you to his sleek vintage car. The familiar screech of the city bus caught your ear, and you looked over to notice it stall to a stop, before you followed George's lead.

The ride was quiet. You spent most of the time pretending to be distracted by your chipping nail polish. Even in his silence George was captivating. You couldn't be sure if he'd noticed you stealing glances at him as he drove; but every time you did, you wouldn't let yourself look long.

You couldn't be sure why stepping foot into the diner to get felt different. Maybe it was because you weren't alone. You were mixed among dozens of other dinner parties and the combined white noise of everyone's collective chatter set you at ease. You weren't as shy to let your gaze linger on George as he studied you across the same booth as before.

And much like then, your conversations started mildly. He asked what you were going to order, and you tried not to feel too embarrassed for listing off the same meal. But he grinned and said he was going to do the same. And right as your conversation opened up to grow ever deeper, you were interrupted.

"Miss y/n!" An excited, drawn out greeting rang from a small boy who was busy bouncing your way. You didn't need to turn to know it was little Louis. He was one of your most loyal students. And though you'd never say it to anyone, the small kid was your favorite budding ballerina. Perhaps because he cared so unabashedly for you, too.

All four feet and fifty pounds of the curly headed boy crashed into your side of the booth, his little arms reaching to wrap you in a hug. You let out a surprised gasp and turned to try and greet the boy as soon as you realized he'd appeared.

"Today was lot's of fun. Can we do more big jumps next week?" The boy broke away from you to peer up, big brown eyes full of hope. You chuckled a little and assured the boy you'd planned on it. That's about the time his mother shuffled over, apologizing for her eight years old interrupting your dinner.

"It's alright." You assured, sheepishly glancing over to George who was sat back watching on with a coy grin. The kind of smile that- if you were younger and less confident, might have made you insecure. But knowing the little you did about George, you read no mocking in his expression. Only something more vulnerable you couldn't quite make out yet. You wondered all of a sudden just how exactly to get him to open up, and wondered hopelessly if you'd ever get the chance.

"I'm always glad to see you, Louis." You grinned at the boy, still glancing up to you in the sweetest way. "He's never missed a class in two years." You bragged to George now, who let his grin stretch a little wider.

Then you got the good sense to introduce the guy across from you. You gave his name away, and mentioned that he taught at the gym at Fit For All. Louis mother seemed to light up at the mention.

"Oh, you're Geogre? You know my oldest son, Danny. He talks about you all the time." The woman whose dark roots were nearly longer than the dyed blonde bits of her hair gleamed, and Geogre seemed to glow, too.

"Oh, yes. He's always at the gym, it seems." George sat up a little, peering to the woman Louis belonged to. The mother explained that her eldest wanted nothing more than to grow up to become a boxer. But a shoulder injury at the tail end of highschool ruined his chances. So Danny traded boxing for running, and had completed several marathons since.

George said the guy was great at encouraging the kids who frequented Fit For All, no matter which lesson they showed up for. It was your turn to smile and watch as George and his friends mother gushed over the guy who wasn't even around.

When Louis was coaxed from your side back to his mothers he gave you one final hug and raced her to a table across the room. A silence fell between you and George once more, but it was more familiar than ever. George was the first to break it.

"He was sweet." George smiled, reaching for his drink.

"Must run in the family." You pointed out. "I didn't realize Louis even had a brother."

"Danny is a good guy. He always knows just what to say. Not only to the kids, but to me too, some days." George let out a little laugh. A nervous, slightly bittered chuckle. And while it made you realize a little something more about him, it added to the complexity of George all the while. This guy was going to drive you nuts in no time. You'd let him.

///

And that's how it started. Every Friday, around the same time, you'd pile into George's ride and one of you would cover the bill for DeAngelo's.

Sometimes you got held up, trying to help a girl learn her steps for the schools annual talent show. You'd find Geogre had lingered in and made himself at home on the folded up mats near the door. You caught his gaze in the wall length mirror and tried to hide your blush while you danced on.

Other times, he'd be running behind. You shuffled outside to find George in the middle of what seemed to be a serious conversation with a familiar guy around your age. It was Danny, and you were introduced for the first time like you'd been friends forever. You found the rumors about the guy were true, even in the first few minutes of meeting. Danny mentioned his little brother mentioning you nonstop, and said how he'd been waiting to put your face to your name. George ended the small talk by reaching over and nudging you toward his car.

The slight touch of his arm against yours made you feel different than the only other time he'd touched you before. The last was when he'd rushed in to monitor your injured hand. And you couldn't feel much of anything. But now, when George leaned into you, pushing you away all the while, your nerves seemed to dance on end. But Danny's pleasant goodbye tore your thoughts away, and you waved your working hand to the guy and hoped out loud to see more of him.

Then George drove you to DeAngelos for another week in a row.

///

You hadn't really realized how much time had passed until snow started to fall. Granted the weather seemed to change much earlier than it ever had years prior. But it changed all the same, and it seemed to draw attention to the tradition you'd made of going to dinner with George.

You sat in the same spot almost everytime. And you talked about the same sorts of things. There were always complaints shared, about the growing cold, and the things that held up your week. There was always some kind of exciting news to share, about a new movie coming to town, or the things you'd accomplished during work. You even spoke about things you hadn't been keen on discussing with most other people. Like your relationship with your family and the scariest parts of highschool. Because George asked. He asked you more about yourself than he ever dared to mention his own stories.

"When are you gonna let me come watch you teach kids how to throw a punch, huh?" You teased. George had lingered in the doorway to catch the tail end of a handful of your lessons, by now. And he was always done for the night, when yours ended early.

As you ate your usual dinner, he kept his demure smile and rolled his dazzling blue eyes your way, before changing the subject. And you wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk, so you let your question go unanswered.

"We've been coming here a lot." He pointed out, plain and simply. But the comment made your heart feel like it had grown a layer of steel , sinking ever so slightly.

"Would you rather us go someplace else?" You wondered in a light manner, trying not to seem let down at the possibility of ending your tradition.

"Course not. I'm saying I like coming here." George smiled, then added, "With you."

You bit back your grin from spreading too widely and let the familiar bout of quiet follow.

///

But the next weekend was different and it was all your fault. Your water heater broke on Tuesday. And your landlord called back Wednesday night to say he couldn't help you fix it till he came back to town next week. You had to postpone Friday's class when you realized you were in too deep trying to fix the issue yourself. And while you fiddled with the matter with your non broken hand, a deep regret flooded your system when you realized George would miss you and you had no way of letting him know.

You worried all evening at the thought of standing him up. You crossed your working fingers that he'd still be keen to see you the next weekend; and tried to accept the fact that since your tradition had been broken, the thin connection you shared with George might now forever be lost, too.

By the end of your next week, your landlord was still off on holiday, and had taken to ignoring your texts asking for help. How hard was it for him to call a local mechanic to send your way before he left to go tanning for the day, or whatever?

And as you bared another cold shower and grumpily hurried to head to the studio, your power went out.

"No, no no!" You whined, flipping a light switch a dozen times in a row and wishing and hoping and praying everything would come back to life. You took a deep breath, rushed to the closet where the panel that held your home's power was, and were disappointed to find flipping a few switches there did absolutely nothing. You didn't have time to worry. You couldn't let your kids down again.

Some of them were already lingering outside of the studio when you rushed in, stomping away snow. Little Louis actually cheered and dashed your way for a hug, like he did. You smiled, set at ease by the child's sweet nature.

Then you taught him and a dozen others to dance, and let your worries fade away for an hour and a half. George hadn't slipped into the studio when the clock ticked past your usual meeting time. You tried not to let yourself feel disappointed when your kids shuffled home. You only wrapped up for the day and started to worry over your situation all over again.

But as you locked the doors to the studio, Danny was making his way out into the hall, and George was trailing close behind.

"Hey kid!" Danny glowed, turning to greet you in the dim hall. You shot him a pleasant smile, despite everything, trying not to catch George's gaze. Because his expression was so familiar, now. And he was looking right at you in a way you realized he so often did. And you'd let him down last week, and you had to do it again, now.

He shouldered past Danny as the bulky fellow seemed to decide to go home. He gave you both a quick goodnight before making his way toward the heavy doors. Then you were left alone with the guy you hadn't stopped thinking of since the time he held an ice pack to your knuckles.

"Where've you been?" He asked, like he was much more concerned than disappointed. And while that was nice, it wasn't enough to stop you from wanting to cry a little. God you hoped you didn't look the way you felt.

"I'm so sorry I missed last weekend." You started, shifting in place, under George's study on you. "My water heater broke. Then my power went out. So, now I've got to go home and figure out what to do. I hate to miss another one of our dinners but-"

"What do you need?" His question interrupted your rambles to a halt. You held your breath and looked to the guy for a curious beat before explaining yourself.

"Well I'm just going to grab some things and find a place to stay. Probably just that Motel on Second Street. My landlord is such a-"

"The Second Street Motel?" George grimaced, like he had memories of the place he wasn't over yet. "That place is a dump. And they'll over charge you. Why don't... if you'd like... well you could stay with me." George's confident speech dwindled into something meek as he spoke on. It made you chuckle a little, the way he'd surprised you when you least expected it. And when a moment of quiet passed as you searched his stunning blues eyes, George spoke up more assuredly.

"Only if you want."

"Only if you're sure." Your smile fell away as dozen of nerves rose to your throat as you responded.

"Come on." He nodded, turning to the door in the same fashion he'd always do when you were headed to the one of the only other places you'd gone together. His ride to the urgent care was courteous. His company at DeAngelos was kind. And his offer for you to spend the night was an all new layer of generosity that made you feel the way you did when he touched you a few weeks ago.

///

He waited in his car while you used the flashlight on your phone to throw a few things in a bag. Between your toothbrush, your night clothes, and some things for the morning, you forced yourself not to think about what was happening. You just urged your feet to move and tried not to seem too excited to settle back into George's car.

He drove to his place in a silence that felt different than all the other times before. And when you stole a glance over to him, you could have sworn he'd just turned away from looking over to you. The thought danced through your mind till his vintage ride pulled to a stop outside a row of townhouses. They were just a few roads away from your own, in a quiet, bleak part of town.

George held open his front door as you stepped in from the cold, a baby blue backpack full of essentials in your clutch. And all of your expectations for what Geogre's home might have looked like were not only unmet, but left you with more questions about the guy than ever.

The home was neatly decorated in pale colors. Plants and picture frames decorated every shelf and corner, and the dish towel in his kitchen matched the tea kettle on the stove. It was reminiscent of a much older person's space, with a vibrant charm of someone much more spry. You padded to the cozy living room as Geogre disappeared around a corner, leaving you to think up a dozen more questions about the fellow you were determined to get to the bottom of.

As you eased onto the navy sofa and abandoned your bag, a light came on in the hall and an old orange cat came prancing toward your feet. You glanced down to the pet as it meowed up to you, and stretched to balance against your knees. You cooed, reaching to pet it, before the animal jumped into your lap.

"That's Sadie." George spoke, stepping into the room, slowly making his way toward the sofa. "I was going to apologize for her disregard for personal space but you don't seem to mind." He chuckled.

"Not at all, she's lovely." You grinned, cradling the cat like a baby as purs rattled her delicate frame. George seemed to watch on as you admired the pretty animal in your arms. And when you dared to look back up to him, he sat up a little, from where he was perched on the edge of the couch.

George said something about ordering take away from a place nearby, and you agreed with the condition that you got to pay for it, too make up for his kindness in letting you stay in his lovely home. And much to your surprise, when you realized it anyhow, you felt perfectly content waiting around with George, for the pizza to be delivered. He stuck to his end of the sofa, while you settled into yours, holding fast to Sadie all the while. You talked about usual things, and even laughed over some others, until there was a knock at the door.

George went to answer, as you trailed toward the kitchen, stopping in the hall to admire some of the photos on the wall. There were plenty of his family, or maybe just friends. And even some of George, dressed in boxing gloves, at who must have been his father's side. The older man who looked so much like George held up an award as his son stood by with a shy smile and messy hair.

George found you gawking at his frames on his mission to set the box of pizza on the table.

"This photo is sweet. Did you win this garish award?" You teased, turning to find George wearing a grin reminecent of the one he sported in the photo.

"I did." He said.

"But you don't really do this sort of thing anymore..." You spoke, halfway asking why in the gentlest way you knew that might pry open his closed off manner.

"No I haven't for a while." George said. He poured you both a strong drink, the kind DeAngelos didn't serve.

"Why is that?" You wondered, easing to one of the wooden paint chipped seats at George's kitchen table. You watched him take a sip of the dark liquid in his glass, as you reached for your own.

"It got to be too much." He said, easier than anytime before. Like he actually wanted to tell you. And you kept a quiet eye on him, hoping if you waited long enough, he'd keep talking.

And much to your patient delight, he did.

"I started going to Fit after school, when I had nothing better to do. I'd stay till close, because I didn't want to go home." George explained. You took small bites of pizza and listened on, eyes softly glued to George's every word. And as he ate, he told you that he didn't have a very easy time growing up. How his father was sick, and his mother was never around. How George never thought of his future because he was busy worrying about each day at a time. You could tell he didn't talk about it. Any of it. So you just kept sipping your drink and offering gentle encouragement for him to keep going. Because you wanted to know. You desperately cared to know.

George told you that on one of Bareny's regular stops in, the gym owner took notice of George. How he'd listen to the distant encouragement some coaches gave to students in the ring. How he didn't have the money to take those lessons and stuck to practicing on the mats in the corner. How Bareny noticed, and asked George if he'd like to be trained. How he took up the owners generous offer, free of charge.

And when you nudged him to keep talking by asking all the right questions, George explained that Barney helped him enter into matches that he won like an old pro. How exhilarating it was at first. But those nights would end and George would go home and he would hate it. You knew better than to ask why, as he moved on. You just hoped this was the beginning of him letting you in bit by bit. The first of many stories. You downed the last of your drink while George finished his pizza.

"Well you might not box anymore but I'd still love to watch you teach kids how." You laughed, watching George crack a smile across the table from you. He thanked you for covering dinner and you thanked him for letting you stay over. Then you launched into a sudden ramble about how stressed out you were about what to do, how it might be better to move than to keep combating your landlord. But how you didn't have the funds to put toward either of those options.

"God sorry I sound like a cry baby." You laughed, resting your glass in George's sink as he stored the left over pizza away.

"No you don't. You sound worried, and I'm sorry to hear it. Letting you stay over is the least I could do, really." George shrugged, shifting to face you. He stood a step away, keeping his intimidating gaze on yours. The kind of glare that might have made you feel small if you didn't know George. But you saw past the way he stood so tall and stoically. You saw more of him tonight than you ever had before. And that's what made you unsure of what to say next.

"I think I'll go get cleaned up now." You spoke with a gentle nod, heading to collect your bag. George showed you to the bathroom at the end of the hall before turning away and saying something about changing, himself.

You were left to bask at your reflection in the harsh golden light as the bathroom fan buzzed overhead. You dug through your backpack to find the nightclothes you'd brought along and thought of George as you stepped into the shower. The water was hot, pelting your shoulder blades with a warmth you hadn't had the luxury of experiencing all week. But you hurried along, mindful not to use up all the hot water.

When you changed and took a deep breath and peered back to the mirror, it was covered in steam. So you zipped up your backpack and made your way back out into George's home. Sadie was waiting patiently outside of the door. She wove between your feet as you took care not to step in her path before she settled to walk at your side. Was this some kind of dream, you wondered? Some kind of idyllic alternate universe, where nothing was the matter and the space you occupied was warm and safe and shared by the boy you hadn't stopped thinking of for months in a row?

At the end of the hall, George's bedroom door was open. A soft amber light shone from the bedside lamp you could see. George appeared into view as you were drawn to the space like a moth to a flame. He wore a tattered t-shirt and a pair of cotton joggers you'd never seen him wear before. His yellow hair appeared slightly damp and he looked happy, somewhere in the depths of his usually guarded expression. He looked at home.

Sadie brushed past your ankle, out of the hall and into the living room, leaving you and George the most alone you'd ever been.

He stalled in the doorway as you halted your floating closer. His eyes were softer than you'd ever seen them, sleepier; maybe.

"Right, well goodnight I suppose." You smiled, trying not to let your eyes rake over his figure. You could practically feel how close he was.

"Right." George seemed to decide, letting his eyes search yours for a beat before his glance drifted over your shoulder.

"I'll find you some blankets." He said, slowly stepping past you. But before he could drift down the hall you stopped him. Somehow, you spoke without even thinking, without even knowing you were brave enough.

All you said was his name, like a question. And that was all it took. George turned on a dime and kissed you. He crashed his lips against yours and tangled his long fingers in your hair as he cradled your head. His grip was the only thing holding you in place as you melted into a puddle, against him. When you started kissing George back, he moved one hand down the length of your side as he made one swift move to pin you against the wall. You couldn't help but let out a surprised breath, a sigh, a laugh of some kind.

George responded by kissing you harder, until you could hardly breath. And when you stopped kissing him back to do just that, you felt George's gentle grip against the exposed skin of your hip; tighten ever so slightly.

"Do I still have to sleep on your sofa?" You asked what felt like one dozen questions in one. Your fear of ruining the one in a million moment disguised by a lithe smile. George responded by letting out a laugh, his eyes nearly closing as he did. And when he was finished, he said;

"Come on."

You followed George to his bed, not daring to hide your excitement. He pulled you in with a smile, perhaps the broadest of smirks you'd seen him sport. There was still so much you longed to know about George. So many questions you were eager to ask, so many things you longed to hear him talk about. But spending the night sharing his pillow was a good place to start, you figured. You hadn't expected it of course. You never knew what was next with George. You'd only, simply, hoped for a next time. And with the way he looked at you now, and held on, you rekonned maybe he didn't want you to stray too far, either.

───※ ·❆· ※─── taglist: @haileymorelikestupid @maria-josefin @imaginesandyeah @queen-bunnyears @okaymackay

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #Boxer!George

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

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🏐 Sparking Eyes; Asahi Azumane (Sportember #003)

📑 Table of Contents | ⚾ Challenge Post

Genre: Angst, School, Romance

Word Count: 2,278

Pairing: Reader x Asahi

World: Haikyuu!!

Prompt: “Promise me you’ll never leave my side. Show me what I can’t see, when the spark in my eyes is gone.”

Sport: Volleyball

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“Are you… sure about this?” Sugawara frowned deeply, scanning your face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. Your mind had been made up.

Despite the emotions swirling around within him, Daichi’s face remained blank. He wasn’t happy about your decision. How could he be? You were his twin, his other half, and the two of you had been dreaming about going to nationals since you were both small children, but now you were resigning from the volleyball club and for what? A boy. You were choosing a boy over your own flesh and blood. That’s what bothered him the most.

Daichi took the resignation form from you, crumpling it within his fist as he turned on his heel, leaving the room without a word.

You felt guilty, of course, but you had to support the boy you had fallen in love with. You could only hope that he could find it within himself to one day forgive you. You offered Sugawara a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Suga. This is something I have to do.”

He nodded, feeling more sadness than anything else. “I understand. Take care of Asahi, okay?”

“I will, thank you.” And with that, you left the room, sequentially leaving the Karasuno volleyball team behind.

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The final bell chimed throughout the school and you leaned back, stretching your arms above your head. “Today seemed to drag on forever.”

Asahi glanced up from his notes, offering you a soft smile. “You’re looking forward to the weekend, right?”

“Of course!” You turned in your chair to face him, but he had returned his attention to the notebook. To you, Asahi was an open book and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to the weekend because he was under the impression that you would be at practice, so he wouldn’t get to see you. You smiled softly, folding your arms on the back of the chair. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some ramen, Hi-chan~”

His cheeks bloomed with color at the nickname, despite having heard it so many times before. “You can’t skip practice, Daichi will be upset.”

“I quit the team.”

His brown eyes widened in disbelief. “You… Why would you…”

Standing up, you approached your boyfriend, gently cupping his face with your hands. “That should be obvious, my love. I will always be by your side, supporting you through whatever path your life takes.”

His large hand slipped over your own, eyes turning glassy. “You quit… for me?”

“Mhm, and I’d do it again, a million times over.”

Asashi tried to keep his emotions in check as he stood up, throwing his arms around your body and burying his face in your neck, facial hair tickling your skin. He was positive that he had just fallen in love with you all over again, but he also felt guilty knowing that he most likely ruined the relationship between you and your brother. “Y/N, I don’t want to -”

“Shush, Hi-chan,” you ordered softly as your fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “I quit because it’s what I wanted. You mean the world to me, much more than volleyball ever has. Dai will come around, I’m sure, he just needs time to process. Don’t you dare blame yourself for a decision that I made.”

He pulled back so his eyes could meet yours, shimmering with love and adoration. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, a ghostly touch upon your lips. “You mean so much to me, Y/N.”

You pulled him into a chaste kiss and offered him a smile. “You mean the world to me, too, darling. Now get your stuff, I want ramen!”

He chuckled, pulling away so he could do as you ordered.

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To be honest, you didn’t really believe that the team’s attempts would be enough to convince Asahi to return to the team, though you had to applaud their efforts. You had seen the ace at his best, spiking past the best blockers. He was not only very talented, but he loved the game, as well. After being shut down again and again and again by Date Tech’s iron wall, that spark in his eyes was snuffed out. He took personal responsibility for the loss and what little bit of confidence he had died with it.

Deep down, you wanted the first-years to succeed, to persuade him to give it another try. You knew he missed the game, missed his team, but he was far too stubborn to admit that and he continually got upset when you attempted to talk to him about it. He felt like he was being ganged up on and started to pull back from you, using his college prep as an excuse.

You wanted so desperately to show him how strong, how incredible he truly was, how important he was to the team, but you couldn’t seem to convey these feelings. Especially when he ran away at the mere hint that the conversation was shifting to volleyball. You were honestly at a loss, so you did the only thing you could think of.

Kageyama and Hinata exchanged a look when you approached them outside of the classroom – they had been searching for your boyfriend, only to come up empty. They had seen you with Asahi several times but neither had spoken to you before. Were you going to scold them for messing with the brown-haired third-year?

“I have a request for the two of you,” you spoke softly, eyes shimmering with determination.

Hinata straightened his back, cheeks turning pink. “S-Sure! How can we help, senpai?”

You surprised both of them by bowing at the hip. “Please… please remind Asahi what it’s like to love volleyball!”

Their eyes widened at your pleading tone, not expecting such a thing to be your request. They could sense how desperate and sincere you were and they wanted to help in anyway that they could. It was true that they needed Asahi on the team, but they would also be honoring your request, which they were happy to do.

They copied your stance and chorused, “We’ll do our best, senpai!”

And that was all you could hope for.

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You sat in class, watching as the clouds slowly rolled across the baby blue sky, the sun shining cheerfully upon the earth. If only your current mood reflected the weather.

“Y/N!” One of your classmates, Yuki, approached you with a smile, plopping into the desk in front of your own. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the gym? Volleyball practice started already.”

You smiled at her, thankful that she didn’t notice the sadness lurking just beneath the surface. “I have plans this afternoon, so I can’t go. Actually, I’m going to be late, excuse me.” You glanced at the clock for effect before quickly gathering your things and rushing from the room.

The truth was that you wanted more than anything to be there, cheering for your friends, your boyfriend, your family, but… it felt wrong for you to be there. Ever since you left the club, Daichi had been avoiding you, both at home and at school, but you couldn’t blame him. You knew he felt hurt and wasn’t quite ready to forgive you and that was okay. You didn’t want to push him or invade his space.

You suddenly came to a stop when you heard the familiar thwap of palms slapping against the ball, shoes squeaking across the polished wooden floor. While lost in thought, you hadn’t been paying attention to where you were going and had subconsciously traced the path to the gym, the path that you had taken so many times in the past. For a moment, you just stood there debating on whether you should just walk away, but you ended up approaching the door anyway. It was cracked open, just barely enough for you to see through.

‘Ugh, what am I doing? I must look like such a creep.’ As you pulled away, you caught site of Asahi jumping into the air, spiking the ball past a tall blonde. And then you saw it – that spark that had once fizzled out was now shining brighter than it ever had before. He was playing volleyball again and he was happy. They were all smiling as they received and spiked, yelling to each other. ‘Good job’ if they played their role properly or ‘it’s okay!’ if they made a mistake.

“Ah, Y/N-san!”

You whipped around in surprise as Takeda-sensei approached, carrying a black folder to his chest with one arm.

“Did you come to -” his grin suddenly dropped, replaced with a panicked expression. “W-What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“What? I’m not -” you lifted your hand to your cheek, feeling moisture on your fingertips. ‘I’m… crying?’

He took you gently by the shoulder. “Are you injured? Sick? I’ll take you to the nurse!”

“No, I’m okay, really!”

“But -”

The door slid open behind you, followed by Daichi questioning what was going on. He was so close to you and yet he felt miles away. Your shoulders shook as you clamped down on your bottom lip in a poor attempt to control your emotions. With a bow and a quick apology to Takeda, you quickly jogged away from them, hoping that they would just leave it at that, but you should have known better.

A warm hand grasped your upper arm softly just as you rounded the corner and you knew who it was simply by how softly his fingers rested upon your skin. He was slightly out of breath from practice and his eyes were filled with worry.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You frantically shook your head, eyes focused on the single ant that was skittering across the pavement between the two of you.

Asahi rested his fingers under your chin, forcing your head up. “Please talk to me, darling.”

The pain in his tone went straight to your heart, more tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just… I saw you playing and you just looked so happy, I’m so proud of you and I just… I wish I knew how to fix things but I don’t and I -”

His lips silenced your rambling, warm and soft against your own. His forehead rested against yours, his thumb gently wiping away your tears as they fell. “What are you trying to fix?”

You sniffled, hand clutching at his jersey. “Things with Daichi… I thought he just needed time, but… I guess he hates me now.” A humorless laugh bubbled past your lips.

“You really think that?”

Your head snapped to the side, wide eyes locking with Daichi’s, your lip quivering. “What else am I meant to think? You haven’t said a word to me since I left, haven’t even looked at me! It’s like I don’t even exist anymore. I’m sorry, okay? I just… I wanted to support Asahi! I never thought you’d hate me because of it…”

“Idiot!” He snapped, stomping over to you as his aura darkened. Both you and Asahi tensed up, not knowing what the captain was about to do. Daichi’s arms suddenly wrapped around you, bringing you to his chest. His voice was full of emotion. “I could never hate you, idiot. I just… I felt like you were choosing Asahi over me and I got jealous. I was in the wrong, not you, so don’t apologize.”

You gripped onto your twin, having missed his company and the warmth that he provided. “I really missed you, Dai.”

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was choosing someone over you. I love Asahi, but you’re my family, I could never replace you.”

“Y-You lo-love me?!” Asahi cried, face turning the same shade as a cherry. Though the two of you had been seeing each other for a while, the word love had never left your lips, a mere thought within your mind, but now it was out in the open, floating around you like a moth to a flame.

You had honestly forgotten that he was there and the realization of what you had just done made your own face burn. Your eyes snapped to your brother, begging for help, but that was definitely not in his job description.

“Sorry, I’ve got to get back back and make sure the kids aren’t burning down the gym. See you at home, Y/N!” Daichi grinned, turning and jogging away. You tried to catch the back of his jersey but you didn’t react quick enough, your hand suspended in mid-air.

With a nervous gulp, you slowly turned toward your boyfriend to gauge his reaction, only to find him clenching his shorts, head lowered as his shoulders shook. “A-Asahi, I -”

“Is it true?” he questioned, voice barely above a whisper as it floated to you on the warm afternoon breeze.

“Yes…” You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in love with you, Asahi Azumane!”

His head shot up, tears sliding down his reddened cheeks. In just a single long stride, he was in front of you, pulling you into his arms. How many times had he dreamt of hearing those words from your lips? It was sweeter than he ever imagined it to be. “I love you, too, Y/N! So much!”

Your arms found his waist, hand sliding across his broad back. A smile came to your lips as he repeated the words over and over again into your ear, his lips soft against your jawline.

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amaya777 · 4 years

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A Dangerous Life | A Twisted Wonderland OC Oneshot

For this, I’m doing a Mafia AU version of Sander. Yes, I know that I am extremely late to the bandwagon for that, remembering that being a thing when I first created my blog before I even thought of posting my OC. But it’s just a good and fitting AU for Twisted Wonderland, so I decided to finally do it now. I am aging up Sander, Azul and such to be at least 18+ because of the nature of mafias and the type of setting.

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Sander was sitting at a table in the posh establishment, feeling so out of place in many ways right now. He had to be the youngest person here as everyone else drinking seemed to be at least ten years older than him besides maybe the woman in the sparkly dress singing on stage. Dressed in tattered rags and short for his age despite now being an adult, he knew that normally he would have been thrown out already. But the man who he had been running small errands for this past year told him that one of his bosses wanted to meet him, to give him a bigger errand to run that could lead to future work. Sander knew that he had to take it, needing the money and thankful that with being older, he can do jobs that pay more.

Selling newspapers, polishing shoes, little things that he could do over the years barely made a dime really. While it was something and every little bit counted, it wasn’t enough for the orphanage to survive on. That’s why he was thankful that a year ago someone was offering money if he would just deliver envelopes and small bags for them. He never knew what was in them and never asked since he was told never to open them, obeying since a job is a job. It was just simple deliveries, yet they paid him so much that he just kept going with it. That much cash allowed him to really help out more and even afford to buy the other kids some actual clothes and toys too.

So he waited until a very tall man came walking over, dressed in a business suit with his hair slicked back except for the black strand hanging down the left side of his face. His eyes were different colors too, but he seemed to have a smile on his face.

“Ah, so you’re the one who has been doing those errands. Thank you, good help is always hard to find. That’s why when I found out, I wanted to offer you this job to see if you’re capable. Deliver this to our client on the other side of town, in the alley behind the gym there. Don’t open it and do not let yourself get caught, under any circumstances. You will be paid very handsomely once you’ve completed this and come back. You’ll accept it, yes?”

Sander thought about it, hearing that he can’t get caught as he thought of the location. That’s right, that part of town is extremely rough and ruled by the notorious Savanaclaw gang that even he knew of it. Their leader is a beast and they don’t take too kindly to outsiders either. He knew that this could be dangerous, but that money would be really nice and this could lead to more work for him. So Sander nodded back as Jade grinned and handed over a bulky envelope with a lavender wax seal on it.

“Wonderful. My name is Jade. Good luck, Sander.”

Sander was very surprised and confused as to how Jade knew his name, but took the envelope before leaving the place. Jade chuckled, looking back as a man wearing glasses and carrying a cane came walking up along with an identical man to Jade but his hair strand on the opposite side.

“That boy, if he is serious and clever enough, should be able to survive against those ‘beasts’. It would be a shame to lose someone that reliable.”

The two twins nodded, both in agreement with what the one spoke before all of them headed back to the office.

Meanwhile Sander was making his way through town, hiding the envelope on him as he thought of how to do this. As long as he can blend in with the crowds and stay unnoticed, it should be fine. Soon he got to the other side, otherwise known as the slums due to how poor this part of town was. Abandoned and run down buildings with those living here struggling to survive while turning to crime and violence, this is exactly where he doesn’t want the other kids to end up if he can’t support them. So he was careful to keep his head down as he walked through the streets, looking for the gym when a group of guys wearing yellow bands of cloth noticed the envelope.

“Hey, he’s with Octavinelle! After him!” the leader of them yelled as Sander heard, shocked and started running before the guys chased after him. Octavinelle? Was this why he can’t get caught? But he couldn’t think on it long, quickly ducking into an alley to try to lose those guys only to find that he reached a dead end. Crap! The fence was too tall for him to jump and if he doesn’t do something quick, they’ll catch him. He searched all over until he saw the broken window to his left and the trash bins to his right. Sander picked up a rock and threw it through the window as it made noise before rushing behind the bins, hiding perfectly still and silent. He waited, hearing those guys come running down the alley.

“He’s in here!”

One of them screamed as they all went through the window and his plan had worked. Once the coast was clear, Sander ran out of the alley quickly and made his way to the alley he needed to be in. There was a guy dressed like the locals and ready to fight, but relaxed when he saw the envelope Sander held. He mentioned Octavinelle, being the client as Sander handed it to him and the guy thanked him before leaving. Sander was so thankful that he did it, also leaving the area before those guys from before could spot him again. So he went back to that establishment and there was Jade standing there as he walked over.

“Oh, so you made it back. Congrats. I will let my boss know of you for the future. Here is your pay and surely we will meet again.”

Jade handed Sander an envelope with a smile as he took it and nodded back. Sander opened it, completely stunned by how much money there was. This is five times the amount he would get from a normal errand!

“T-Thank you so much!”

Sander bowed his head, so grateful and happy as he left the place. This will really help out the orphanage so much for a good while, thinking that the others could sleep and not worry about a lack of food. He wanted to cheer and celebrate, needing to give this to their caretaker. So he ran for the orphanage up the hill, a large but not well-kept building due to a lack of funds and barely struggling by with the little money he made. Sander went inside, calling out as he went to their caretaker’s room, only to see them with a man wearing glasses and holding a cane. He was dressed impeccably and serious before he took notice of the envelope.

“So you’re the one that’s been keeping this place afloat and who Jade hired. I must say, you’re quite dedicated and trustworthy to do these kinds of jobs for this long. The fact that you are even here after going to Savanaclaw territory shows that you are a smart one too. I am Azul Ashengrotto, owner of that Octavinelle Lounge. Say, how about we strike a deal that will help all of us?”

The caretaker looked nervous, but Sander was smiling because of the praise coming from someone clearly above him and realizing that he is Jade’s boss. He nodded back, curious before Azul gave a little smirk and pulled out a piece of paper with Contract written on it followed by many lines of words with a blank spot at the bottom. Azul stated that he wanted to officially hire him on as one of his staff where aside from running deliveries and errands like that, he would take the boy under his wing, teaching him the ropes of the business. Someone so loyal was rare in this line of work, reminding Azul of his youth as a determined boy really. In exchange, Sander would be well paid and taken care of for life with this orphanage also being taken care of too.

Sander was smiling and already thinking of how wonderful this opportunity was, that the orphanage wouldn’t have to struggle anymore and everyone would be happy. The caretaker questioned if such an agreement is legal, but Azul quickly reminded them that the boy is an adult and can make his own decisions. Sander didn’t hesitate as he signed the paper with Azul’s pen, sealing the deal and the man having a large grin on his face.

“Wonderful! Come along now, if you’re going to work for me, you must have the proper attire after all.”

Azul rolled up the contract and put it away, holding his hand out as Sander eagerly took it. He gave the money to the caretaker, saying his goodbyes to everyone before leaving with the other. After being bought and dressed in tailored clothes by Azul, he formally met Jade and Floyd before living his new life working under the three of them. He didn’t have to worry about himself or the orphanage needing to survive, just working hard at his job and remaining loyal to Azul over the years. It wasn’t easy at all, but it was well worth the hardships to finally know that he and everyone else would have a happy life.

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #octavinelle oc #twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #mafia au #twisted wonderland scenarios #fanfic #oneshot #twisted wonderland fanfic

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avengerscompound · 5 years

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Legacy - Chapter 10

Legacy: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 2005

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, domestic abuse, post-endgame, angst, developing-relationship, hurt/comfort, smut, Laura and Clint have broken up. Comic Clint/MCU Clint mix.

Synopsis: Nothing is the same after the events of Endgame. When Clint has trouble returning to a life where his family hasn’t changed but he has lost everything, he moves back to the city and tries to move on as a single parent. When Nate finds you bruised and pregnant in the stairwell of his building, he decides that there might be another way that he can make Nat’s sacrifice worth something.

Chapter 10

Coming home without Tasha had been hard. You were ready to go home and get on with your life as a new mother. Only Tasha was still too small and needed more time in the NICU. So where you had been expected to be up most of the night feeding her and changing diapers, instead you had an empty crib and multiple trips to the hospital to check on her.

Clint had said it was a little bit of a blessing. You weren’t sure if he was just saying that to try and make you feel better or not. He was definitely a little highly strung on the return home. He had told you that being home without her meant that he could get the apartment closer to being where he wanted it.

He really did get right into the renovations too. Some of his friends came and helped, so there were days where the place was full of Avengers doing home repairs.

By the time you went to pick up Tasha to bring her home the walls had been painted, the floors sanded and polished so they matched and the kitchen had been finished with new appliances, countertops, and cabinets as well as a floating island and a new tile floor.

There was still a lot to do. Upstair particularly hadn’t been changed at all. It was two large unconnected bedrooms that you could only access via two different staircases on the opposite sides of the apartment. Clint had big plans for replacing stairs and connecting the upstairs and putting in another half bathroom. For now, it was enough that you now had a place that worked for your new family. There were enough bedrooms for all the kids.

But finally, there was Tasha there with you both.

Being a new mother was tough but you really loved it. Even as sleep-deprived as you were. Clint was such a natural dad. He only complained about the messy things like changing diapers and being puked on in a light joking way. You never once doubted that he wasn’t enjoying the role of dad to the little girl.

You were actually happy. This was the family you had always wanted and never expected to have. It was easy to forget the shit that you’d struggled out of. Clint seemed to feel the same way. He was happier and more relaxed and now when he spoke about the people he’d lost that had led to where he was now, it was more about remembering the good things than being lost in the grief of what he’d lost.

The two of you made a new life with the family you blended together. It was a kind of serendipity. Maybe if either of you were asked there might be things you would change about each of your pasts. No one deserves the abuse either of you had suffered and even a happy ending might not have made up for experiencing it in the first place. You would both have wished Natasha alive if that kind of thing worked.

Still, you were happy and each day that passed the more the happiness outweighed any grief or guilt you still both carried.

It was easy to forget there was still bad in the world.

By the time Tasha was four months old, Cooper, Lila, and Nate were all staying over regularly again. Things had been slightly erratic for the first few months while Laura let you and Clint adjust to the newborn.

It wasn’t an unusual day when Kate came around and she, Lila, and Clint were up on the rooftop doing target practice while you were downstairs with Cooper, Nate, and Tasha. When there was a knock at the door you didn’t even think to check the peephole to see who it was.

“Cooper. Can you turn that down a little? It’s kinda loud.” You called back as you pulled the door open.

“Found you.”

The voice of the man at the door sent a chill through you and you wheeled around to see Richard standing in the doorway. You went to shove the door closed and he slammed it back at you, making it hit you hard in the face and sending you reeling.

“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” Richard seethed as he pushed his way inside.

“Get out of here, Richard. There’s nothing here for you.” You said trying to push him back out the door.

Cooper had jumped to his feet and moved to where Tasha was playing under her baby gym, kicking her feet happily. “Nate, come here, bud.” He said.

Richard struck you in the face knocking you to the ground. Lights popped behind your eyes and your head spun as you tried to get back up off the ground. “You aren’t allowed to be here.” You said and you got on your hands and knees. He kicked you, knocking your back over. It felt like he’d broken a rib.

“I’m here for my kid. You think you can keep them from me?” He spat.

“Hey, you don’t hurt her!” Nate yelled, puffing his chest out and putting his hands on his hips.

“Nate!” Cooper called. “Come here, buddy.”

Tasha had started to cry from all the yelling and Cooper scooped her up off the ground and held her close to his chest.

“Alright, kid. Let’s not be a hero. Give me the baby and I’ll leave. She’s mine.” Richard said, trying to sound reasonable.

“She is not. She’s my sister. You get out of here, mister!” Nate ordered.

“Alright, this is moving past being cute,” Richard said taking a few steps towards the kids. “Give me the baby and no one else has to get hurt.”

“Cooper, take them to the bathroom and lock the door.” You choked out as you tried to get back to your feet.

Cooper grabbed Nate by the arm and dragged him towards the bathroom. Richard lunged at them and you grabbed his ankles, tripping him to his knees. He aimed a kick at your head and there was a thwip-woosh sound, and an arrow embedded itself into his shoulder.

“Fuck!” He cursed, grabbing the bolt as you staggered to your feet.

Lila stood at the door with her bow drawn looking at the scene. “Don’t you move.” She said, though there was a shake in her voice.

“Cooper.” You called. “Take the kids up to your dad.” You moved to block him and Nate from Richard as they passed him.

When Cooper got to the door, he began to run, dragging a protesting Nate with him. You slowly moved towards Lila. Her hands were shaking slightly but she kept the bow trained on Richard.

“Don’t be stupid, little girl,” Richard warned. “You’re not going to kill me.”

“Don’t need to,” She said and dropped the aim to his groin.

“Come on, Lie,” You said, putting your hand on her. “Let’s go get your dad.”

Lila backed out with you, keeping the arrow pointed at him. He lurched forward and she let the arrow loose. It hit him in the thigh. You both turned and ran to the stairwell, ignoring the burning pain in your face and side, and how hard it was to draw in each breath.

“Dad sent me down to get us drinks,” Lila said as she ran.

“Oh god.” You said. “I’m sorry, Lila.”

“It’s not your fault.” She said. “Come on.”

You burst through the door to the roof, you lungs burning as you slammed it behind you. Clint was already on his way to the door as Kate took Tasha from Cooper. “Where is he?” Clint asked.

“Following I think. Lila shot him.” You babbled. “Shot? Is shot the right word. Did you shoot him?”

“It’s alright. It’s going to be okay. He’s broken both his parole and the restraining order by just coming here.” Clint soothed. “I’ll be back.”

He ran from the room and Kate came and dropped Tasha into Lila’s hands. “I’m going with your dad given I’m the actual Avenger here.” She said and ran off after him.

You came over to Lila and put your arm around her. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You asked.

She nodded. “Never shot a person before.” She said. “Never shot anything that wasn’t a target.”

You kissed the top of her head. “You saved us and he’s just hurt. You did good. But we’re gonna get someone you can talk to about this.”

She looked up at smiled at you. “You should sit down.”

She helped you to one of the deck chairs on the roof. The sound of sirens started echoing up from the street and Cooper went and looked over the edge of the roof. “There’s police and ambulance coming.”

“Good,” You said. “That’s good.” You held out your hands to Lila who was bouncing Tasha on her hip and pulling faces at her to get her to calm down. “You want me to take her?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve got her.” Lila said. “You should get looked over by the paramedics before you hold her.”

Nate came over to you and climbed up on the deck chair resting against you and gently patting your stomach. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you for being my brave hero.” You said, gently. “I love you kids so much, you know?”

“We love you too,” Lila said.

“Yeah, we wuv you.” Nate agreed, kissing your cheek.

“Someone just came out on a stretcher,” Cooper called from the edge of the roof.

“Can you see who it is, Coop?” Lila asked.

He leaned over the edge a little more. “I think it’s the guy. It’s not Kate anyway.” He said.

“You sure it’s not dad?” Lila asked.

“I’m pretty sure,” Cooper said. “Yeah. I think it’s the other guy.”

“Good. That’s good.” Lila said, flopping down on another chair. Tasha babbled happily and patted her cheeks.

“Should we go down and find dad?” Cooper asked.

“We better wait here.” You said. “They’ll come up when they’re ready.”

Like your words had summoned him, Clint appeared in the door with a couple of paramedics and a police officer. The kids all rushed over to him slamming into him. He held them close, taking Tasha from Lila as he crouched down and pulled them close. “It’s alright. Everything’s fine. You all did great.” He soothed. “You’re safe now. Did anyone get hurt?”

Cooper shook his head as he melted in against his father. “Not us.”

Clint indicated to the paramedics to go and see you. They moved over and started looking you over. Checking to see if he’d cracked any ribs and patching up your wounds. They took photos of your injuries as they worked for evidence.

“Okay, guys. We need to talk to the police too. You'll have to tell them what happened. Okay?” Clint said gently, as he looked his kids over.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Cooper said.

“We’re going to need you to take you into the hospital for some x-rays. I don't like how that rib feels.” One of the paramedics said to you.

Clint looked between you and the police officers. “We will go with her to get checked out first okay? I'll bring them to the station later. You've got Hawkeye giving a statement right?”

“Yes, she’s gone down there. Just be sure you do.” The officer said.

“Don't worry, man. We want this over and done with. For good. We’ll be there.” Clint said.

He came over to you holding both Nate and Tasha and crouched down kissing your forehead. “Sorry I wasn't there.”

You shook your head, trying not to cry. “Sorry being with me means you even have to worry about that.”

“Oh, honey, don't be stupid.” He said and rubbed his nose against yours. “He is not your fault. Let's get you patched up so we can get done with him for good.”

You nodded. That was something you wanted more than anything.

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #angst #fluff #legacy

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imthepunchlord · 5 years

Note

For all the new things, I kinda wished they showed all of this before SwSh was released, now it's a bit more pricey and I feel like it's kinda rushed. Also for the Mystery Dungeon, I'm excited for that bit I really hope that include all the starters and non starters as well in the final.

I wish they went ahead and pushed back SaS so it’d be released 2020, with this expansion back already included, and the new places we go to can be unlocked during our adventure or as postgame. I would’ve fine waiting and would’ve preferred it, especially to give them a chance to do more with the main story which is pretty weak and made little sense, and Rose was a very forced in villain. Also made no sense in the story climax. Watching playthroughs and seeing the climax of SaS I’m just...

Its also frustrating that you get to hear about things happening and not actually witness or help. Like, its nice having adults acknowledge that you’re a kid, don’t worry about it we’ll handle it, but at the same time, that’s a chunk of story we have a right to see, and we’re kids in this game, we don’t always do what adults say we should follow and see what’s going on. That could’ve been something optional. Go to event to see what’s happening or skip it to go to the next gym.

And this is turning into a rant so I’m going to put this below. For those that just want to read my comments on Mystery Dungeon, scroll down till you get to the Pikachu gif, I’ll talk about it below.

Also there could’ve been improvements with the rivals. Marnie is suuuuper intriguing and I love her, Bede I also like though that’s more me missing mean rivals and man, he’s a brat and I say that with affection. But in the grand scheme of things, they felt pointless. More could’ve been done to include them. And Hop. God, Hop. I know people like him, but from what I’ve seen, he seems like the most annoying “friend rival” made to date. He does not know what personal space is. He waits for you in front of gyms. He waits for you on new routes. He has to comment on almost every move you make in your fights with him.

I don’t even own the games but just from the playthroughs I’ve watched I’m just... go away. Leave the lead alone. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, waiting for you. It also feels like he only got endorsed because he’s Leon’s younger brother. There’s nothing about him that I like. And, I don’t know why he gets the other wolf legendary? What makes him worthy?What makes him want to be a Professor in the future? That’s out of nowhere.

Something more could’ve been done with Hop, maybe an arc of him resenting you a little because every match you beat him, and he’s the Champion’s younger brother and you just seem to stay ahead. Maybe let us have more scene of him talking with Sonia since he’s going to be her future assistant. If he’s going to be constantly stalking us and waiting for us, then yeah, let’s at least better build up where his character will go.

Then there’s the issue of pokemon. With it pretty much confirmed they just reused models from gen 7, yeah, there’s no reason to not include more pokemon. If not the National Dex, which wouldn’t bother me too much, then go ahead and add about half. At most, I’d love pokemon included that would make the most sense. Like, lion is a big symbol throughout all of Europe. There should be a lion in Galar, either Litleo or Shinx returning if not a new lion pokemon. And with the expansion packs, yeah, they’re already adding 200 each pack.

And a lot of this dlc should already be in the game. If 400 pokemon are going to be added in, they should already be there. The new Giga forms should already be there and we should’ve seen the Giga Venusaur and Blastoise the same time as Charizard.

I’m also salty that there’s no going to Kalos. Maybe it’ll be a future expansion, and that’s a dlc I wouldn’t mind, but those are two very linked countries they’re based on. And Galar truly isn’t a big region. The Wild Area isn’t as big as it could be. Like, it doesn’t have to be BotW big, but it could’ve been bigger than what we got. And if not expanding the Wild Area, we could’ve had Kalos as a new region to go to, and more gyms for us to do.

ALSO.

I am not a fan of you refacing the gyms and having them act as your “Elite Four”.

They’ve already been fought. Aside from the first two, you’ve already fought all the star Giga forms they have. Its a really lazy decision. At least, you can have the two first gym leaders come in since you didn’t fight their star Giga forms, and include the other two version exclusive gym leaders as the other two. Just for some freshness in this final challenge.

I know they’re not big on voice acting, but, they should’ve put some form of VA into these games. Its a little awkward to get animated cutscenes and there’s no voices coming forth. And its at its worst when you get to Piers and you see him singing away, I presume loudly, into his mic and its just awkward cause there’s no voice and you can hear him tapping his foot to the music and its just so off putting to watch cause something is missing: a voice! And you know what’s the kicker? Pokemon has included voice acting before.

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There is no reason to not do something similar, at least for Piers’ intro so its not so awkward to watch.

And then post game... the official post game... I, I honestly can’t say what is even going on? Those two blonde bimbos, those designs, who agreed to pass them? For sword guy, I don’t know whether I should be laughing or uncomfortable. Its like, an in between especially when his hair flops around. Also, their reasoning, they’re causing chaos in Galar because they didn’t like a book Sonia wrote???

The villains in these games are just so dumb.

Like, Rose had a good motive but, he is still forced in. And he activates the climax for no reason. He was promised by Leon that he would help with Eternatus, all he had to do was wait through one match. One match that would’ve been 30 minutes at most, roughly. Yet he couldn’t wait for one match and went ahead and woke up Eternatus, does a video asking for help, and when you arrive, stops you for a battle that doesn’t make sense to have cause he asked for help why is he holding you up with a battle??

And Team Yell. Supposed to be like, a 2nd Team Skull and these guys could dream to live up to Team Skull. They can’t. They’re not funny or enjoyable at all. And my friend brought up a good point on the issue of having Team Yell based on punks when they’re supposed to be the “villainous” team. Punks, historically, were rebelling against an unfair system, they were progressive and revolutionary. They stood up for LBGT rights, they stood for having individual freedom, and just wanted to break the restrictions society wanted to place on people, let people express themselves and be who they want to be.

If you want Team Yell to be a 2nd Skull and play around with punks as their theme, then they should’ve been set up to be red herrings as well. Be wary at first and then later find that they have hearts of gold, and mean well, even if they can be a tad extreme sometimes. And maybe they can help build up the danger of Rose, who in turn wants to paint them in with a bad image since they’re going against him and what’s normal in society.

Anyway... Sword and Shield honestly should’ve been pushed back. They should’ve been saved for 2020, or even 2021, or however how much time they need. I would’ve been fine waiting. A lot of fans would be. But what we got wasn’t worth the $60 it was being sold at, and definitely not worth the $90 its being sold at with the expansion packs, and as far as I know, these are very, very small areas to explore. Cause as we’ve seen with SaS, they built it up to be big and grand and, well, the Wild Area was smaller than expected and the whole was far shorter than expected. You could beat it in 20 hours roughly.

I even have mixed feelings on there being no enhanced version, cause these games do have potential, they just needed more time and polish, and then it could’ve worth the $60 price. But also thankful that there’s not another 2nd version and we may be getting a few expansion packs instead.

Though I do think a lot they’re bringing in should already be in the game.

Anyway, enough ranting about Sas, onto Mystery Dungeon!

Demo I think could’ve been a little longer, they stop you before you go on the Skarmory mission, I think it could’ve been a better placement to end after the Skarmory mission.

Anyway, I like the changes so far. I love you can choose a different pokemon if you don’t like what you got from the test. I love that you have an updated move pool, though I feel kinda OP but you also kinda need it for these games cause I remember them being so hard and as a starter that can’t evolve till like, post game, yeah you’re going to need that help. I love that you get to wear a little scarf. Design wise, a little weird at first but it grew on me. Kinda reminds me of Okami.

By trailer, for sure they’re adding more pokemon in. Lucario is seen in the team, when before, you only saw Lucario as a statue in Red Blue, I believe? Its been a long time. But they only had Gen 1-3 in RB, and Lucario is there so I would think they’d add in a lot more pokemon.

For starters, I’m hopeful that beating the game, if you replay, you’ll get more options for the starters to play as and have as your partner. I’d loooove to have a chance to play as Popplio. Mega Evolution is confirmed, I wonder if regional forms would also be playable, like if we could evolve into Alolan Marowak or be one of the other two regional Meowths. Otherwise, everyone you could be in the old game is there, with no gender restriction! You can be a female Cubone! A male Eevee! A female Cyndaquil! I’m so happy about that since as a kid, I wanted to play Cyndaquil but never got it in the test and had to look it up and was bummed that it was male only and I wanted to be a girl.

My biggest hope though is that with this, we’ll have a chance to play two player, since you have a team of two usually, and your friend or sibling or SO can play your partner.

I am pleasantly surprised with it so far, though I will be holding off when its released in a few months, just going to listen to all reviews once they beat the game and if its very positive, cause SaS had a strong start and then went down hill with Gamefreak rushing it and cutting corners. I’m hopeful for this remake but cautious still.

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eilonwiiy · 5 years

Text

Bookends ; a Witchlands AU

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children's Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, minor Ryber/Kullen (and more... stay tuned!)

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi

* . * . * . * .

chapter 1

811.34 Courrier

811.34 Gaines

811.34 Vasiliev

Iseult reached for another book from the cart. She ran a pale finger along its spine, noting the title vaguely, before settling on the call number at its base.

813.01 Balthazar

Her gaze lifted to the long line of books shelved in front of her, scanning for one in particular, before bending low and craning her neck to read the next row underneath. A twinge of discomfort radiated through her neck protesting the awkward angle, but she stayed hunched over, reading the call numbers until she found what she was looking for.

813 Allein

813.2 Husmond

Ah. She slipped Balthazar’s book neatly between the two titles, then drew herself up with a tired slowness. Stifling a sigh, she rolled her shoulders and let her head loll back before rotating it from side to side. Standing upright was decidedly more comfortable than the 90 degree angle she’d bent in and out of all throughout the day, but no amount of stretching seemed to ease the ache in her neck and back. An unavoidable caveat of working at the Venaza City Library.

Five months ago when she’d taken the job, Iseult det Midenzi had not considered the physical toll books could have on a person. Sure, she had read Eridysi’s Lament enough times to know books could break your heart worse than any one person could. But books existed to exercise the mind. The most Iseult had exerted herself for a book was forcing herself to stay awake long enough to read just one more chapter a dozen or so times before resigning herself to being a filthy liar. And that was admittedly more a testament to her mental willpower than any physical endurance she may have possessed. Besides, the price she paid for a sleepless night was well worth the reward. It certainly didn’t leave her physically disabled.

Yet here she was, 22 and condemned to live in the body of a 90-year-old woman. All because she shelved books for a living.

Safi told her she’d have the ass of a model by the time she quit, what with all the squatting. Iseult had yet to notice any improvements. (Not that she was checking, of course.)

Maybe it really was time to go back to the gym, she thought as she massaged the painful knot at the base of her neck. Finally start going to yoga again like her best friend had been nagging her to do every Saturday morning since school term had started. A year ago it would have been Iseult dragging Safi out of bed at 7 A.M., succeeding only by using the one means of bribery she possessed: the promise of a double chocolate double whip hazelnut macchiato from the campus coffee cart, followed by a hash brown heist from the dining hall. Nothing quite curbed a sugar rush more than an adrenaline rush and some grease.

Iseult dropped her hand. The spot on her neck faded into a dull throb at the thought of her and Safi running from the dining hall, pockets stuffed with hash browns wrapped in napkins and a breakfast sandwich fisted in each hand, while cafeteria staff shouted after them as they escaped with their spoils.

No. She hadn’t stepped foot on campus since she dropped out. She wasn’t about to now. And not just because she and Safi now had copies of their student I.D. photos posted on the community board in the dining hall asking students to keep an eye out for the notorious thieves.

Drop out. There wasn’t an aspect of her life that didn’t seem to revolve around those two words. She could hear Safi scolding her.

“Don’t say that! ‘Drop out’,” she'd said one evening while they closed up her uncles’ coffee shop shortly after Iseult had made the decision. “You didn’t drop out of anything. You made a graceful exit. To do something more noble than any of those old toads sitting cushy in the administration have likely ever done, might I add! They should consider themselves lucky that you’ll even be coming back!”

Iseult fingered through the books on her cart. Well. That had been back in September. It was now January, the first week of second semester had just wrapped up and Safi had changed tactics. Instead, she ranted about how the collegiate system was the world’s biggest scam, squeezing their generation of every last drop of money and happiness they had, and that she should drop out too just to have the satisfaction in giving Dean Henrick a big FUCK YOU. It was a touching offer, though, not exactly the most ambitious plot for revenge. Safi was running on a free ride. Henrick’s deep pockets wouldn’t be any lighter if she left. He’d still be sitting pretty on the proverbial throne.

“Iseult.”

Iseult looked up to see Evrane gliding down the aisle towards her, thoughts of school and Safi interrupted. As always she was impeccably dressed, from the silver dangling from her ears all the way down to the perfectly polished stilettos she wore. Her long white hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, leaving her bronze face bare, radiant even under the library’s miserable lighting - a feat aided by sorcery, Iseult could only assume. It was a wonder what patrons must think of her roaming the halls, what with her pale moon skin and midnight hair. She looked more like the ghost that was rumored to haunt the library tower.

But Evrane wasn’t the library’s director for her otherworldly cheekbones or dazzling emerald eyes. She was also the sharpest person Iseult had ever met and someone she couldn’t believe she had the privilege of calling a mentor.

Iseult hastily tugged off her earbuds. “Hi Evrane.” Her voice cracked; sshe cringed inwardly. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone during her 8 hour shift. Evrane didn’t seem to notice.

“How are you, dear?” Evrane asked. She nodded to Iseult’s cart of books. “Tackling the nonfiction, I see.”

“Good,” Iseult replied, this time willing her voice to sound normal. “I’m almost done with the nonfiction, and then I have some books I need to bring down to Children’s. I think someone may have mixed up the carts. My shift ends soon, but I could stick around to shelve them. There aren’t too many but...” She trailed off watching Evrane shake her head, as though amused.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, then adding, “Pleased as I am with your progress, I was actually wondering how you were doing… How was your trip home?”

Iseult stared blank-face at Evrane. She should have expected this. Evrane had taken to Iseult from the moment they’d met, always seeking her out between bookshelves, pulling her aside to talk about the latest book Iseult was reading or simply inviting her back to her office to join her for tea. Secretly, Iseult was pleased. To have a woman like Evrane be genuinely interested in what Iseult had to say… well. It was more than she could have dared to hope for.

Which was exactly why couldn’t help asking herself, why?

Iseult never did come up with an explanation for why Evrane hired her in the first place. She could only assume the woman had done it out of pity. Her resume had been woefully thin to the point of being downright pathetic with only her part-time barista gig at Mathew and Habim’s coffee shop to her name. She had no other achievements. No special skills. And of course, now, no academic prospects to boast. Iseult had nothing to offer.

And yet... here Evrane was asking the one question Iseult wished she wouldn’t.

Home was the same as always. Saldonica never changed. It was still the grimy, cut-throat city it had always been, with its streets teeming with crime and illegal trade. That was the accepted way of life there. But it didn’t phase Iseult. She never really considered it home anyway. She hadn’t grown up there. There was only one thing, one person, who made Saldonica home.

Her mother. The true subject of Evrane’s inquiry.

So how was she?

Sick. Very sick. And showing little improvement. Though, she’d probably be worse if not for Alma caring for her day and night. If not for the money Iseult sent home each week to ensure she was getting the medication she needed. If not for her mother’s damned stubbornness to shirk life’s more unsavory aspects and persist in the face of uncertain fate. That in itself was likely aiding Gretchya more than Iseult and Alma’s contributions combined.

“Fine,” Iseult said, expression unchanging. It was automatic. Succinct. Gretchya would have approved.

Evrane merely hummed, bowing her head slowly. As though Iseult’s meager reply required deep and philosophical deliberation. “You know,” she continued after a moment, “I know this,” her eyes panned the bookshelves on either side of them, “wasn’t exactly where you expected to be by now. I am sorry your plans to return to school didn’t work out as you had hoped, Iseult… but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m happy to have you with us for a little longer.” Evrane raised a hand to Iseult’s arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze, a gesture that should have been comforting, yet only turned Iseult to stone. “If there’s anything I can do to help, my door is always open.”

Iseult tried to nod. Swallowing suddenly became painful. Speech, impossible. Mercifully, Evrane let go of her arm and changed the subject.

“Now tell me, where is that cart you were talking about?”

“O-oh you d-don’t have to -” Iseult stammered. She immediately snapped her mouth shut. Hell-gates, did she have to stutter like that now? In front of Evrane!

The woman seemed to take no notice and simply waved a hand. “I am the director of this institution, am I not? I think I am more than capable of handling a couple books.”

“By circulation,” Iseult forced out. Evrane gave her an appreciative smile, then walked away, her silver circlets tinkling prettily in the quiet of the library.

For a moment, Iseult simply stood there, staring down the aisle where Evrane had left. Eventually, she untangled her earbuds and popped them back in. She opened Spotify on her phone and swiped through the playlist she’d been listening to before Evrane showed up. However, after a few minutes of mindless scrolling, stuffed her phone into her back pocket, abandoning her search. Silence filled her ears.

Iseult grabbed a random book off her cart. She read its cover, though not really taking in the the words, and when she went to find its place on the shelf, it was as though she had not read it at all. This happened with every book she picked up over the next ten minutes, and when she finally forgot the author of The Autonomy of Dalmotti - a book she had personally read at least five times - she finally gave up.

Frustration prickled the back of her throat. Gripping the book tight, she leaned her forehead against the oak bookcase. The smell of old paper filled her nose as she let her eyes to sink shut, breathing in the musty air through her nose. What she would give to fall head-first into a book right now...

Stasis, she told herself. Stasis in your fingers and in your toes.

Gretchya sick.

Stasis.

Evrane. Broken words. Broken.

Stasis.

Drop out. Drop. Out. Drop. Out.

Stasis. Stasis. Stasis.

Over and over again Iseult silently whispered this to herself, until a familiar calm resettled in her chest, until every last thread of emotion was pulled tight. Nothing out of place. She took several more slow, deliberate breaths for good measure, then, she opened eyes.

That’s when she saw them.

Through the narrow opening between shelves, Iseult spied Evrane standing by the circulation desk. But it was who she was speaking with that caught Iseult’s attention.

It hadn’t taken Iseult long to familiarize herself with the people who passed through when she began working at the library. Though Venaza City was largely populated, the library had its regulars, and even those who visited only once in awhile had become catalogued in Iseult’s memory like the books she shelved. In fact, on more than one occasion, she found herself recognizing patrons outside of work - an oddly unpleasant experience. She already spent enough time dodging former college peers whenever she ventured out into the city. They now had competition.

That being said, Iseult knew nearly everyone who came to the library. Except for this man talking to her mentor.

Even from behind, there was something striking about him. He towered over Evrane, his imposing figure standing impossibly still in dark form-fitting jeans and a muddy burgundy leather jacket. Iseult wished he’d turn around so she could see his face. Regardless, two features immediately stood out. Or rather, accessories.

First, a blue, opal earring in his left ear. And second, the child held in his arms.

These two things seemed to clash together in Iseult’s mind. The girl, she guessed, was no more than five. A mop of dark hair obscured most of her face with only a red, chubby cheek visible resting on the man’s shoulder. As for the earring, Iseult wasn’t old-fashioned enough to believe men couldn’t wear jewelry. In fact, depending on the piercing’s style and placement, she found them rather appealing. However, the more closely Iseult looked at the gemstone, the more it called out to her as some sort of statement - and not one of the fashion variety. It lent little to the rest of his dark ensemble and stuck out like a sore thumb. It was too ornate. Too deliberate. Something worn out of habit.

Iseult inched forward, bracing a hand along the edge of the shelf as she watched from her hiding place amongst the books. She knew she was teetering on the edge of polite observation and straight-up creeping, but she was too curious to care. Evrane stood close to the young man, too close for him to be an ordinary patron. And there was something in the way that she looked at him that gave her the impression that she wasn’t simply giving him a book recommendation. Even through the warmth Iseult was so familiar with in her expression, she couldn’t miss the urgency in her eyes. Her lips were moving carefully, and she imagined the melodic gentleness of her voice, the same voice that had spoken to her only moments ago. Soft words only meant for him.

As if on cue, Evrane reached for his arm.

Iseult immediately noticed the mystery man’s shoulders stiffen. It was the first indication of life she’d seen from him during the entire encounter. A pulse ticked in his jaw, the only sliver of his pale face she could see. Evrane had stopped talking, but kept her hand on his arm, her thumb gliding back and forth, and appeared to be listening attentively to the man’s response. But as the seconds dragged on, her eyes - never wavering from his - glimmered with a touch of something new. Sadness, perhaps. Her expression dimmed, and eventually the hand holding his arm stopped moving and returned to her side.

Iseult’s nose was practically brushing the books blocking her from view now. Who was this guy? Evrane had never spoken of family or a significant other. On one occasion, she had mentioned a nephew - something about how he’d just returned home after studying abroad. But other than that, no one else. This couldn’t be him, could it? He had a child with him. A child who - Iseult suddenly realized with a jolt of horror - was staring right at her.

“What are you doing lurking in the shadows?”

The Autonomy of Dalmotti dropped to the floor with a rustle of paper and a soft thump as she whirled around. How her best friend had managed to sneak up on her in the dead silence of the library without her hearing, Iseult didn’t know, but the self-satisfied look Safi was pinning her with made her curse the Moon Mother for turning her momentarily deaf.

“If by lurking you mean shelving books,” Iseult replied smoothly, kneeling down to pick up the fallen book as though nothing had happened, “I’m working. It’s kind of in my job description.”

Safi cocked her head to the side, eyebrow arched. “Is spying on hot guys in your job description? Can’t see his face, but the view from behind is certainly enough to go on.”

Iseult felt a rush of unwanted heat flood her cheeks, but aside from that, her face betrayed nothing. Yes, she had been spying. But not in the way Safi thought, and the idea that she had been caught not only by her best friend, but by that strange little girl made her want to tear every book from the shelf and bury herself underneath them.

“What?” Safi persisted innocently as Iseult turned her back to her. She slipped The Autonomy of Dalmotti between two volumes, not particularly caring whether or not that was where it belonged so long as she didn’t have to see the infuriating smirk on Safi’s face. “I don’t blame you. You can’t be expected to stare at dusty, old books all day - no matter how much you love them.”

“Wanna bet?” Iseult muttered. For all her love of the library, she had thought she’d be back in school by now, trading in its dusty, old books for overpriced textbooks.

“I’d love to. Tonight, in fact. At The Cleaved Man.”

“I - ” Iseult began, but Safi’s hand slashed through the air cutting her off and she pointed a finger in Iseult’s face.

“Don’t say you can’t! I’ve barely seen you all week!”

“As if that’s my fault,” Iseult countered, grabbing another book and the opportunity to turn the tables. The last thing she wanted to do right now was spend the night in an overcrowded bar. “Where were you last night? You never came home.”

Safi picked up a book from Iseult’s cart and examined its cover. “Polly’s.”

Iseult paused mid-shelving. “Leopold’s?”

“Mhm.” Safi opened the book, casually flipping through its pages. Silence stretched. She looked up. “What?”

“I thought you weren’t going to see him again,” Iseult said, watching her friend carefully.

Safi lowered the book and frowned in confusion. “Not see him? What are you - ?” But as soon as the unfinished question left her mouth, Iseult saw the life in her eyes freeze for half a heartbeat, and comprehension slowly dawned on Safi’s face. A second later, her expression hardened. “Hell-gates, Iz! I didn’t mean him.”

Him. Or as he was known as in their apartment, the Chiseled Cheater. To the rest of the world, he was simply Caden. Handsome, strong-jawed, infuriatingly charming Caden.

Safi gave Iseult a disparaging look before snapping shut her own book and stuffing it onto a shelf where - Iseult noted - it should not be. Now wasn’t a good time to be pointing out mistakes. The hard line of her pursed lips may have grown taut like she was fighting to feign indifference, but Iseult knew when her best friend was hurt. And this time, it was her fault. Safi crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“Like I’d ever,” Safi huffed, tossing her unruly sun-streaked hair over her shoulder, looking anywhere but Iseult. She let out a strained laugh and shook her head as though the thought of her and Caden together was ludicrous - though, it didn’t stop a tinge of pink blossoming across her cheeks. “Spend the night with him. Honestly, Iz. You know we’ve never - I’ve never -”

Pink turned to a vibrant red as she struggled for words before making a disgruntled noise and giving up.

“Sorry,” Iseult murmured, her expression void of all emotion. “I was just worried.”

Safi finally met Iseult’s gaze. The silence of the library was deafening. Then, she shook her head. “It’s fine,” she relented, and Iseult was relieved to hear sincerity in the statement that was universally known to mean the opposite. “I don’t blame you. I mean... he is Polly’s roommate and it’s me so…” Safi’s eyes darted away self-consciously and she took a fortifying breath, arms unwinding from her chest and hands bracing themselves on her hips. When she spoke next, there was no question as to whether or not they were moving on from the subject of the Chiseled Cheater. “By the time we got out of Two Left Feet and grabbed dinner, it was so late that I just ended up crashing at his place.”

“Two Left Feet?” Iseult repeated.

“Modern dance," Safi replied, as though this was the most ordinary explanation in the world.

“Oh.” Iseult wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I didn’t know we had a modern dance company.” Or that Safi was interested in modern dance. “Um, how was it?”

“If that’s what modern dance is, then I’m not sure what I’ve been doing at the club all these years.”

“Two Left Feet.” Iseult paused. Her mouth twitched. “Seems like a counterintuitive name.”

“Ohh no trust me, they hit the mark on that one.”

Any hint of a smile left Iseult’s face. “Please tell me you didn’t heckle them.”

Safi’s hand flew to chest and she gasped. “Heckle? Us? Two purebred members of high society like ourselves? You insult me.”

“Don’t scoff. Last year you two almost single-handedly disassembled Pobody’s Nerfect.”

Safi shrugged half-heartedly. “It was an improv show. It’s supposed to be interactive.”

“You made that freshmen kid cry! I could have sworn I overheard him talking about transferring as we were leaving.”

“Audience participation was encouraged!” argued Safi. “Besides, the fact that we even went to their little dance performance was generous enough. You think I wanted to spend the first Thursday night of the semester watching people roll around on the floor trying to sell it to me as art?”

“Then why did you?”

“We were expanding our horizons?” Iseult rolled her eyes and turned back to her books as Safi laughed. “I don’t know. We were walking around campus after class and saw the sign and I was like, “Well, I have nothing else to do” so -” She stopped suddenly, as though a thought had just thought of something. “Should I have texted you? It didn’t even occur to me that you’d want to go to something like that.”

The concern in the question made Iseult pause… which irked her. The concern or the pause, she couldn’t tell which. Maybe because if she had been on campus with her and Leopold, there wouldn’t be a question of whether she’d have gone. Safi would have dragged her in there whether she liked it or not, and Iseult would have gone along with whatever Safi wanted to do as she always did - good idea or not. Modern dance would have been decidedly not. That never stopped Safi, though. Or Iseult.

“No,” Iseult simply answered.

Safi nodded, and though it was almost imperceptible, Iseult saw her lips purse, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Next time,” she only promised.

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“You never know.” Safi’s sea-blue eyes flashed mischievously. “Come on, I’ll show you a couple moves I learned at the Cleaved Man.” She gyrated her hips for emphasis, causing Iseult to look away embarrassed on her behalf. This only prompted Safi to bump Iseult’s hip with her own.

“Saf, I wasn’t kidding before,” Iseult insisted, stumbling over her feet as Safi went in for a second, more forceful hip check. “I really can’t -”

“Hey, you owe me after that comment about Chiseled Cheater!”

“30 seconds ago you were saying that I was right!” Really, the grudges this girl could hold. Iseult almost felt sorry for Caden.

Safi heaved a wistful sigh. “You know, if I could come keep you company at work, I would.”

“I’d never get anything done,” Iseult said, gesturing the pile of untouched books on the cart between them.

“Right. As if I’m the one distracting you, you little stalker.”

“I wasn’t -” Iseult began to protest, but Safi was already backing away down the aisle, doing what had to be the world’s worst attempt at the moonwalk.

“I’ll be warming up the car!” Safi whisper hissed, rattling her car keys in the air for emphasis. When she reached the end of the aisle, she spun around on the spot theatrically, and then she was gone.

Iseult shook her head after her ridiculous, wonderful best friend, then peered down at the pile of books in her cart. An hour ago she had been daydreaming of ordering the Arithuanian take-out that Safi never wanted to get and hunker down with one of her all-time favorite books, The Raider King. She’d be in bed by 9 and asleep by 9:15.

So much for that.

It was ironic, really. Safi could rant all she wanted about the injustices of the modern day collegiate system, but no amount of theoretical scheming to take down the patriarchy would change the fact that Iseult missed college.

She missed waking up every day and knowing where she was going and what she was doing. She missed her textbooks. She missed late night cram sessions at the university library with Safi and getting nothing done, aside from gaining 15 pounds from vending machine snacks. She missed misty morning walks to her 8 A.M. seminar. She missed the notes Leopold would pass her during Professor Rosa's soul-killing lectures. Heck, she missed her lectures.

And of course, she missed the dining hall hash browns.

So naturally - naturally - the only thing she didn’t miss about college was the one thing she couldn’t escape.

The college bar scene.

Iseult hadn’t taken Safi seriously when she announced one day just before summer break that she would be getting her bartender license. It seemed to be the thing every college student said the second after they turned 21. For Safi to voluntarily subject herself to 40 hours worth of training courses was enough to give Iseult doubt. However, unlike the rest of those drunk idiots, Safi was true to her word, and in no time, she started bartending at Venaza City’s most popular college bar, the Cleaved Man.

Moon Mother, kill me now, Iseult prayed as she pushed her book cart down the aisle. Its rickety wheels squeaked horridly in the cavernous hall. She cringed inwardly knowing that the second she turned the corner, all eyes would be narrowed on her, silently shaming her for disturbing the peace. Halfway down, though, she hesitated. The wheels grinded to a halt.

Ignoring the sick embarrassment bubbling in her stomach at what she was about to do, Iseult cast a look over her shoulder to make sure Safi was truly gone. Then, she leaned forward and peered between the stacks of books.

The mystery man and his little companion were gone.

#the witchlands #witchlands #baesult #iseult det midenzi #aeduan #witchlands fanfic #iseult x aeduan #safiya fon hasstrel #merik nihar #safik #truthwitch #mine #my fics

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kwanisms · 6 years

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Personal Trainer - lhs

⤑ genre: smut/ personal trainer!au ⤑ pairing: Hoseok x Reader ⤑ warning: face fucking, slight?? degradation, some overstim, sir kink ⤑ summary: when your best friend begs you to go to the gym with her, you’re convinced she’s trying to set you up with her personal trainer and after seeing him, you might just be okay with that. ⤑ word count: 7.6k

a/n: i can’t believe it’s been so long since i posted this piece! i decided to revamp my blog and my openings got a huge makeover. all oneshots and drabbles now have title cards! anyway, thank you all for the attention you’ve shown this piece and in light of recent events, i’m reblogging this to celebrate the good news about our Wonho! ~K

It was a well known fact you detested the gym. You hated the wandering eyes of the overly buff wannabe bodybuilders who clearly didn’t need to be there but instead were hoping to pick up women with their overcompensation. You hated the judging stares you received when you stopped running as if everyone else deemed it too soon for you to quit. Of course, you could be entirely wrong and they probably weren’t thinking about you at all.

Still, you disliked the dirty looks girls gave you when you walked a little too close to their boyfriends as if you were going to snatch them and run; no one wants your poodle, honey, you thought as a girl with her long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail stood protectively in front of her boyfriend with his poofy and curly locks, sending a menacing glare your way. So it came as no shock that you refused to accompany your best friend, Emily, to the private gym at the country club her family belonged to.

You found yourself at one of the loudest and most popular clubs Friday night listening to her pleas as you tried to enjoy yourself and let loose after a taxing work week.“Please!! I could really use the encouragement and you could use the workout,” she said, giving you a once over. “Wow, thanks Emily, that wasn’t contumelious or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You would be so much hotter than you are now if you had a killer body!” she said stirring her drink before raising it to her lips.”And stop using obscure words like some vocabulary hipster. I’m not best friends with a dictionary. Well,” she paused before her eyes turned back to you, a smirk present on her face. “Unless you count as one.” You smacked her arm, bursting into giggles as the music with loud pulsing bass swirled around you.

Emily had always been a very outspoken, very honest, and extremely blunt. It was never her intentions to hurt someone’s feelings, but more times than naught that was the result. You had been friends since you could walk. You knew each other better than anyone. You downed the rest of your drink and stood to make your way over to the bar and order another, Emily’s words still fresh in your mind. Returning to.your table, drink in hand, the words that next came out of your best friend’s mouth made it all too clear why she wanted you at the gym.

“Please just come with me! The new personal trainer is really hot!” Ahhh, there it was. You smirked as she revealed her true intentions to you. “You just want me to be your wingman, don’t you?!” you feigned shock, lacing your voice with mock betrayal. “Actually, he’s more your type than mine,” Emily said, playing with a stand of her hair absentmindedly. This piqued your interest and you sighed. It couldn’t hurt to go and have a look, right? “Fiiiiine,” you say, drawing out the vowel and your best friend smiled half in glee, half in triumph and you almost regretted your submission.

Almost.

The next day, dressed in some simple black leggings, your sports bra, an oversized long sleeve shirt, and your sneakers, you were in Emily’s car and ready to get this over with. The night before, still fresh in your mind, you mentally prepared yourself to deal with Emily’s whining about how hungover she was when she had all of 3 drinks. She pulled into a parking spot near the entrance and the two of you got out.

You looked up at the natural stone façade of the massive complex, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder. The grounds were huge, a massive golf course spanning the sprawling hills outside. The drive up to the building was a long path hidden behind a huge line of trees, as if this place was hidden inside some dense forest when really, it was just inside a huge, heavily wooded city park. The cars parked in the perfectly painted spaces were all models you would never be able to afford with your measly salary as a bank manager.

Ferrari, Lamborghini, and BMWs. Think of any fancy car and they were all there. You had an intrusive thought of a middle aged woman driving her BMW to the grocery store to buy milk and tried to keep a giggle inside. You walked through the massive double doors with wrought iron and glass framed by thick, heavy black wood. Inside was just was grand as the outside with vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and dark wood paneling on the walls. The place screamed high class and reeked of old money.

A massive crystal chandelier hung in the waiting area that was much larger than your one bedroom apartment. The marble on the floors was mirrored in the huge receptionist counter and a small, a girl in her late teens sat behind it. The patrons inside a small cafe area sat around small round glass top bistro style tables sipping on their caramel machiafrappuchinos or whatever the latest coffee trend was and you swore they looked at you with disdain when you passed by, as if you were some dirty thing hellbent on mucking up their precious club. Emily approached the reception desk to sign in and smiled at the teen behind the counter.

“I’ve brought a guest today,” she said sweetly. The receptionist sighed as if Emily was demanding she perform like a monkey for her, pulled out a clipboard with a sign in sheet for guests and jabbed it out at you. Taking the clipboard, you signed in quickly, handed it back, and then proceeded to follow Emily through the massive club to the gym. Inside it was moderately sized, filled with various workout equipment.

On one end was a wall of mirrors with racks of free weights standing in front of them. To one side behind the treadmills were floor to ceiling windows that gave a view of the vast golf course you had seen from the parking lot. Several patrons were enjoying a day of golf on this mild autumn day. On the wall opposite the windows were several doors leading into smaller rooms, each door with a little plaque next to it giving insight as to what was inside.

There were only 4 people in the gym; a middle aged woman, a young man, Emily, and yourself. The woman sported a very blunt, black bob haircut that barely reached past her chin, strands of grey littered her pin straight locks. She moved at a steady pace on one of the ellipticals, her eyes trained on the television screen in front of her, old reruns of Grey’s Anatomy or some other soap opera playing. The only man in the room sat by one of the doors into a private room, his eyes glued to his phone. He had probably the most incredible body you’d had ever seen.

He was ripped. Arms, chest, thighs, calves, you name it, he had it. He wore black knee length basketball shorts over grey compression pants, a black compression shirt, and a black baseball cap. On the floor next to him was a grey duffle bag, a black semi transparent water bottle resting on top. Suddenly, you felt very self conscious of your body and tried to unsuccessfully hide behind your own gym bag.

Emily shook her head, her long black hair swaying and she marched up to the man. He looked up and your heart nearly stopped. He was so handsome. His eyes shone brightly and his face broke into the sweetest smile. He pocketed his phone as he stood up.

“Hi, Emily, right?” he asked extending his arm, offering one if his large hands. She smiled and nodded, shaking his hand. “This is my friend, (Y/N), she’ll be joining us today.” You stepped forward shyly as the man held his hand out and offered you a warm smile. You were painfully aware of how your heart was hammering in your chest, wondering if anyone else could hear it, because damn, it was loud in your ears. When you took his hand and shook it, there was no other way to describe it; your body ignited, as if you were the latest victim of spontaneous human combustion.

His eyes locked with your own and suddenly you found it nearly impossible to form any coherent sentences. The intensity of his stare sent blood rushing to places you didn’t exactly want it to. Damn it, you were screwed. Instead you nodded politely and returned his smile. He dropped your hand, and your body whined at the loss of contact.

“A pleasure to meet you ladies, my name is Hoseok.” You made a mental note of how his name sounded. “The pleasure is ours, Hoseok,” Emily smiled, and when Hoseok leaned over to pick up his bag, she looked at you and mouthed the words “oh my god!” You gave her a stern look, mouthing back “stop it!” and dropped it when Hoseok stood straight again.

He led the two of you into the private room he sat by, shutting the door behind you, making sure to hang the occupied sign in place. Inside the room was larger than you had anticipated. The floor was the same as outside in the main gym, that soft spongy material, there were medium blue mats hanging on the wall to the left of the door as you entered and they vaguely reminded you of the mats that hung in the gym in elementary school.

In the far left corner of the room, next to a large mirror that took up the entire wall across from the door, was a simple door that you suspected was a closet holding various workout equipment. Hoseok dropped his bag in the corner, facing away from you but you could see his face in the reflection of the mirror. He removed his hat and his blonde hair fell, bangs falling into his eyes. You hadn’t noticed you had been staring until Emily cleared her throat.

“(Y/N), you can put your bag over here,’ she said and you tie your gaze away from Hoseok’s reflection but you could have sworn his eyes met yours briefly before you turned away and set your bag next to Emily’s, bending to grab your own water bottle. Emily knelt down, pretending to busy herself with something in her bag. “Don’t get caught staring,” she whispered so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Clearing your throat with a grunt, you stood straight and turned around to find Hoseok had already turned to face you. His eyes were trained on you, the ends of his mouth curled up as if he was trying to fight a smile. Emily followed you to the center of the room as she pulled all her hair up into a bun on top of her head. Hoseok tore his gaze away and moved to open the closet, retrieving three yoga mats. You glared at Emily and she smiled sheepishly at you. Yoga had not been part of the agreement.

You had virtually no balance whatsoever and now you were expected to contort your body while maintaining your balance in front of this incredibly handsome stranger. No way. Not happening. Hoseok motioned for the two of you to join him and gestured at the mats. “Have a seat.” You followed Emily, who sat without hesitation. She grinned broadly as Hoseok sat on the mat in front of you and led you through a series of light stretches, warming you up before the workout began.

Hoseok had you remove your shoes and socks and stand on the mats, showing you the first yoga pose. It was relatively simple enough. You had to stand still. You could do that. “Press your toes into the mat and bring your shoulders back further,” Hoseok said softly behind you, his hands resting gently on your shoulders and he lightly pulled signaling you to stand up straight. You complied, your skin burning under his touch and you were certain he could tell. If the smile on his face wasn’t a dead giveaway, then the way one of his hands lingered on your shoulder after he had already corrected your posture definitely should have given him away.

The next pose had you standing, feet wide apart, arms open, and you had to admit you felt like a real idiot. Hoseok attended to Emily, correcting her feet before focusing his attention on you. He complimented your feet being in the right position but he gently grasped your hips to move them in the right position and you couldn’t hide the involuntary gasp that left your mouth when his large hands touched you.

He either didn’t notice, or he didn’t choose to notice but instead remained professional as he continued to correct your position. When he pulled away and circled around you to make sure you were doing the pose right he stopped in front of you and you dared not look up at him. This man was driving you crazy.

Hoseok moved into the next pose that had you sitting on the floor, legs together in front of you, and you had to bend your body in half. Emily, being the flexible former cheerleader, had no problems. You however had great difficulty. You were not on the cheerleading squad in high school, instead opting to focus more on your studies. Hoseok knelt behind you, “may I?” he asked and you nodded, trying to hide the blush that crept across your face.

His hands were gentle as he slowly pushed you into position, stopping every so often to make sure it wasn’t too much. One hand on between your shoulder blades, the other at the small of your back. “If it’s too much, let me know. I don’t want to overwork you,” he said softly, his voice caring and sweet, mimicking the gentleness of his hands. You winced, feeling a burn in your hamstrings you’ve never felt before.

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in closer, his breath fanning the back of your neck. You could smell his cologne. A light airy scent that on it’s own wouldn’t affect you but mixed with another heavier scent, possibly arousal, you felt dizzy. You nodded quickly hoping it would end soon. Hoseok smiled and patted your back. “Alright, you can sit up now,” he said, his hands falling from your back as he stood and returned to the front of the room. He put his shoes and socks back on, signaling the yoga session was over.

You and Emily also replaced your footwear before standing and allowing Hoseok to roll up the yoga mats, returning them to the small closet. You took the reprieve to down some water before moving on to the next part. The next part was cardio. You left the small room and back out into the now empty gym. He motioned for you to join him at two of the treadmills.

He set the workout for you and let you get into position. You pulled your earbuds up into your ears, pressing play on your phone before starting off at a mild walking pace. After a couple moments, the walking pace sped up into a light run. You tried to focus on anything that wasn’t Hoseok’s face, ultimately focusing your eyes on one of the television screens.

You could see Hoseok watching you and Emily carefully out of the corner of your eye. His gaze lingered on you longer than you thought was necessary but eventually he tore his gaze away. He checked his watch as your pace slowed to a brisk walking pace and you tried to catch your breath. You continued, following the preset workout, keeping your eyes ahead but glancing slyly at Hoseok.

Finally the treadmill slowed to a stop and you worked to catch your breath, taking huge gulps of water in between breaths. Emily gave you a big cheeky grin as Hoseok led you the rack with the free weights. “See? This isn’t so bad,” she said as she picked up her water and downed a few gulps.

Maybe she was fine, but your body was screaming. You were so incredibly turned on by this man who had been touching you, albeit innocently, all morning. You felt as if your body would explode if you didn’t find release soon. Hoseok grabbed two sets of hand weights that were on the smaller side and showed you both the next part. You tried your best to mimic him, wanting to avoid as much skin contact his correcting would bring.

You did well up until the start of your third repetition. “You need to stand up straight, (Y/N),” Hoseok said chuckling and pressing his hand to the small of your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You visibly shuddered and immediately felt mortified. Hoseok said nothing, clearly choosing to ignore it because there was no way he didn’t notice. You finished your workout with the weights and moved on to squats.

Hoseok handed Emily a medium sized kettlebell and she set off, needing no correction. When your turn came, Hoseok showed you how to stand and gave you advice on how to keep your balance while squatting. “Keep your back straight, lower with your legs and lift with your heels. Keep your heels planted. Try not to lift them,” he said with a kind smile and handed you the kettlebell.

While you did your squats, Emily went to refill your and her water bottles. You lowered yourself down, feeling Hoseok’s gaze burning into the side of your face. “No, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that,” he said and moved behind you. He corrected your position and gently lowered you, his hands guiding your body and you struggled to breathe evenly, letting out shaky breaths. Hoseok noticed because he ended your set early and let Emily finish hers when she returned. Your face set ablaze from embarrassment, Hoseok led the two of you back to the private room.

The next exercise required regular mats that he pulled from the wall and set down. Hoseok picked up two medicine balls and handed them to you and Emily. He sat between the two of you, demonstrating a movement called a Russian twist with your medicine ball. You watched in awe, your eyes trailing up his arms, across his chest, and down his stomach to his thighs as he twist back and forth, showing you exactly what to do.

He handed your ball back and immediately Emily started, mirroring his demonstration perfectly. You tried to get into the right position but found you could not keep your balance for more than a few seconds. Futilely, you keep trying, eager to show you could do it, but ultimately failing with a loud sigh. Hoseok knelt down next to you and reached out.

With one hand on the middle of your back, he encouraged you to try again and you did, his hand supporting your back and allowing you to execute a couple twists. You could see Emily’s smirk out of the corner of your eye but you tried your best to ignore her and the obvious heat emanating from his hand and spreading throughout your body, a flush forming on your face. You hoped Hoseok would think the pink tinge to your cheeks was from your exertion and not the fact that he was touching you. After a few more reps, the Russian twist part was done. Emily stood closely as Hoseok returned the mat to the wall, Velcro to Velcro.

“I think he’s noticed how badly you want him,” she whispered so softly only you could hear yet you still shot her a warning glare. “You want him too, I know you do,” she added and pulled away, smiling brightly as if nothing happened the moment Hoseok turned toward the pair of you. There was a knock on the door and Hoseok called out a “yes?”

The receptionist opened the door, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your car is being towed, miss,” she said looking at Emily who immediately yelled out a “what?!” “I tried to stop them but something about unpaid tickets and parking in a handicapped spot.” Emily cursed softly as she rushed out of the room, grabbing her bag and let the door shut behind her, not even sparing you a second glance.

Suddenly you were aware of how small the room was, Hoseok standing behind you. You slowly turned to him to find his eyes were already trained on you. “So, uh, do we just wait for her?” you ask softly, not sure if she was going to return. Hoseok said nothing, eyes glued on your face, his expression unreadable. You glanced around nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

You swayed awkwardly, trying to form a sentence. “Should I just go?” you asked and again were met with silence. You took that as a sign and moved to pack up your belongings. As you bent over, a soft voice called out “don’t,” and you turned to look at Hoseok. He was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t what?” you asked, your voice small. “Don’t bend over like that,” he said, his voice deeper than before.

His tone was commanding, his eyes dark as his stare bore through you. When you didn’t speak, he pushed off the wall, making his way slowly towards you. “If you bend over like that again, I won’t be able to stop myself.” His gaze was almost predatory as he stalked forward, the intensity of it, sent heat rushing to your core.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Hoseok’s lips twitched as a smirk appeared. “You think I didn’t notice? How often your eyes wandered? How your body reacted every time I touched you? How your breath caught in your throat? I’m not blind, sweetheart, and you’re not very subtle.” The amused hint to his voice caught your attention and immediately, heat spreading across your face. He slowly backed you into the wall, reaching out to rest his hands on each side of your head and leaning into you. You didn’t dare look up to meet his eyes.

“I can tell you want me,” his voice was a deadly whisper and still you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid of what might happen if you did. “Look at me at me,” he commanded and you found yourself submit to him, obedient to his words. The moment your eyes met his, your lips parted as a soft whimper left your throat. The look on his face had you melting immediately. The darkness in his eyes hooded with what you could only assume was lust sent shivers down your spine, your core tightening with want, no… with need.

Hoseok searched your gaze, no doubt looking for any sign of discomfort before he spoke. “If you want me to stop,” his hand left the wall and gently, caressed the side of your neck as he made his way down your side, stopping at your hip. “Tell me and I will.” You sighed as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, rubbing light circles against the skin of your side.

You didn’t want him to stop so you shook your head and said in a whisper, “don’t stop.” Expecting him to crash his lips to yours, you braced for impact but it never came, instead his lips pressed softly against your cheek, slowly making their way toward your lips in light, chaste kisses before he paused, lips centimeters from yours. He was giving you one last chance to change your mind.

Any inhibitions you might have had before were now long gone with his skin against yours. You wasted no time, uncertain if Emily would return, and closed the distance, placing a quick peck. You were merely testing, not sure of how to progress. Hoseok’s hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you back into him, deepening the kiss. Your hands resting on his sides, you moved your lips against his. It was a slow sensual kiss. The hand that wasn’t on your neck, was roaming, examining your body. He pressed his body into yours, pushing you against the wall before he rolled his hips into yours and you gasped.

He took that opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and explore. Your hands moved over him with as much enthusiasm as he showed and you settled for resting them on his broad shoulders. Hoseok’s hand snaked down to your thigh and lifted, wrapping it around his hip as he pushed against you again, eliciting a moan from you.

He smiled into the kiss and rocked his hips against yours again, enjoying the sounds of your moans, knowing it was all because of him. It fueled his ego and his lips left yours to pass over your cheek until he reached your neck and started to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear. A quiet whimper escaped you as Hoseok soothed over the irritated skin with his tongue before he sucked which would leave a purplish bruise the next day. His hand that wasn’t holding your hip braced against the wall as he continued you grind into you and tease your neck. You moved your hips to match his rhythm and moaned loudly at the sensation, leaning your head back.

Hoseok bit harshly where your shoulder and neck met and you whined. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. Unless you want everyone to know what a needy slut you are,” he hissed in your ear. Your core tightened at his words, walls clenching around nothing. He pulled away, inspecting your face to see if he hadn’t crossed a line but you encouraged him to continue. He let your leg drop before grabbing you by the wrist and leading you out of the private room, leaving all your stuff behind.

He dragged you through the empty gym to the locker room. Your body burned with anticipation as Hoseok pulled you into one of the showers and shut the curtain before pouncing on you, meeting your lips hungrily. He pulled the hem of your shirt up above your breasts before pulling away and tearing the offending top off, discarding it somewhere on the floor of the shower before latching his lips to yours again. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and backed you against the cool tile.

Your fingers locked in his hair, willing him closer though the was no more empty space between you. Hoseok’s hand moved over your chest, lightly grasping your breast, causing you to groan and lean into his touch. He squeezed and caught your lower lip between his teeth. You suppressed a moan and tugged on his locks, a soft groan rising up from his throat. He pulled back and removed his own shirt, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes.

You released your grip on his hair and allowed your hands to wander, smoothing over his muscles, your eyes following every curve. Hoseok slipped his hand under your sports bra and your gasped at the feeling of his warm palm against your sensitive nipple. He rocked more forcefully against your hips, his erection digging into your pelvis.

“This needs to come off,” he said in a deep husky tone that dripped with lust and conveyed his desire for you. He pulled at the waistband of your leggings. “May I?” he asked and you nodded slowly, watching as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic and slid your leggings down to your ankles. His eyes traveled slowly up your body, stopping momentarily at your black lace panties, before continuing up to lock your eyes in an intense heated gaze. As he watched your chest rising and falling due to your labored breaths, Hoseok stood again before learning into you, pressing a kiss to your lips, positioning his thigh between your legs, and pushed up against your sex.

A soft cry skipped past your lips at the contact and you shivered. Hoseok smirked, resting his hands on your hip and pushed you down on him, guiding your hips to rock against his muscular thigh. You gasped, closing your eyes and losing yourself to the feeling. Hoseok chuckled above you and you snapped your eyes open. “Look at you,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“Getting yourself off on my thigh. Are you that desperate?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hands left your hips and reached up to push your bra up, exposing your breasts. You flushed red and looked away from his gaze. His chuckled reverberated off the tile and he pulled his thigh away.

“Which would you rather have, sweetheart; my thigh or my cock?” his eyes had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes flitted down toward the prominent bulge in his shorts. You reached a hand between you, palm resting against his erection. “You mean this cock?” you purred. Hoseok’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, a soft moan fell from his open mouth.

You relished in your power over him temporarily before he gripped your wrist tightly and his eyes snapped open, finding yours instantly. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for it,” he hissed, taking both of your hands above your head and pinning them in one of his own hands before letting his free one slide down your body, stopping to punch one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined and pushed your hips against his. Hoseok grinned and dipped his head to take the other sensitive bud in his mouth, toying it with his tongue while his hand on your breast kneaded it.

You lean your head back into the wall, letting out another moan, and winced when Hoseok bit down on your chest. “Shut up, or else everyone will hear what a whiny whore you are.” You pressed your thighs together at his words and Hoseok resumed his ministrations. He pulled back, capturing your lips in another hearted kiss, tongues dancing together. His hand left your chest and continued down your body until he cupped your heat.

You held in a gasp as his fingers moved, pressing against your soaked panties, rolling in agonizingly slow waves. You whimpered, muffled by his lips, at his touch. “You’re soaked right through your pretty lace panties. Do you want me that badly, babygirl?” You rolled your hips against his hand, desperate for some friction. “Use your words,” Hoseok mused. “Yes. I want you,” you breathed.

“Tsk, that won’t do. ‘Yes, I want you, sir.’ Say it again and say it right, sweetheart,” Hoseok corrected you. You moaned when his fingers pressed harder into your wet folds, still not giving you pressure where you wanted it the most. “Y-yes, I want you, sir,” you pleaded. Hoseok gave in and delved his hand into your panties, sliding a finger along your wetness.

His skin made contact with your clit and started rubbing slow circles against it. Your breathing came out shallow, your chest working overtime. Hoseok smiled against your skin, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck as he continued to tease you. “Please,” you gasped, trying to wriggle your wrists free. “Let me touch you, sir.” Hoseok contemplated giving in but decided against it.

“You get to touch when you prove that you can be a good girl,” he smirked, letting his finger flitted over your entrance cause you to shudder. “Should I give you what you want? I don’t know if you deserve it.” You tried to rock your hips against his hand but he pulled back. “If you can’t even stay still, how can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

You whined, pleading with your eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be good,” you mewled. Hoseok bit his lip, the corners curling up. “You promise? If you don’t follow through, if you break your promise, I’ll have no choice but to punish you, sweetheart,” he growled and your body shook with want. “I know, sir.” Hoseok’s hand was back in your panties, finger pressed to your clit again. You moaned, arching your back. He slipped a finger inside your wet pussy and slowly pumped the digit in and out of you, eyes on your face, watching your reaction. He added another finger, picking up the pace as he fucked you with his fingers, palm rubbing against your clit.

Your moans grew in volume, bouncing off the tile walls. Hoseok pulled his hand away before your orgasm could come to fruition and wrapped his fingers around your throat, gently, carefully cutting off your air supply. “Since you can’t keep quiet, I guess I’m going to have to fill that pretty mouth of yours.” A dark blush swept over your face at his words and he released his grip on your throat. “On your knees, now,” he commanded. You were surprised by how quickly you complied, sliding down the wall until your knees met the cold unforgiving floor. Hoseok rid himself of his shorts and compression pants, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. Your eyes trailed up and down his body, taking in every curve of his muscles.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he asked bemused. You gulped as he returned to you, taking your chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he barked and you obeyed him, your core tightening as you watched him palm himself over his boxers.

“You look so pretty on your knees in front of me, mouth open like the cockslut you are.” You refrained from moaning like you wanted to, certain he might not give you what you wanted. You watched Hoseok stroked himself over his underwear, watching your every move like a hawk. “Arms behind your back,” he said and again, you obeyed instantly. It was arousing how much control his words had.

You watched in awe as Hoseok slowly removed his underwear and his hard cock sprang free. You tried to hold back a low moan but with your mouth open, it met no resistance. Hoseok glanced up at you with a lopsided grin before he let his boxers drop to his ankles and stepping out of them. He stood before you, holding himself at the base of his member, tip leaking with pre-cum and you tried to hold back from flinging yourself at him.

You wait for instruction which came swiftly. “Tongue out,” he said in a low voice. You surrendered to him and stuck your tongue out, his cock dangerously close to your mouth now. You inhaled deeply and slowly, Hoseok set the head of his dick on your tongue before moving slowly inside your mouth.

You moved to brace yourself against his thighs but he hissed “you don’t get to touch yet. Hands behind your back, sweetheart.” You clasped your hands together behind your back as Hoseok moved deeper into your mouth. He groaned at the sensation of your wet mouth around his throbbing member and pushed inside further still.

You felt the tip of his cock nearing the back of your throat and tried to keep your breathing steady. He stilled inside you, letting you adjust to the intrusion, his hand brushing a few strands of your hair out of your face before gripping your locks. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into your mouth, his cock barely hitting the back of your throat.

You fought against your gag reflex as he continued to thrust into your mouth. You tried to keep your jaw as relaxed as possible, timing your breaths. Hoseok thrust deeper into your mouth, now fully hitting the back of your throat, his hand in your hair holding you in place, another hand placed against the wall, bracing himself. Another hit to the back of your throat and you gagged again.

The lewd sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly filled the locker room before he shoved in and stilled, his cock buried in your throat. You swallowed around them, the sensation sending shivers up Hoseok’s back, his head thrown back as he let out a loud moan.

You tried to hold out as long as you could, your breath slowly running out. Hoseok pulled back and you gasped trying to catch your breath, saliva running down your chin before Hoseok pressed the head of his cock to your lips. “You aren’t done,” he growled and thrust back in once you opened your mouth.

Your tongue brushed against the vein that along the underside of his dick and he moaned again, ramming back into your mouth before pushing your head until you settled at the base of his cock, effectively cutting off your air supply again. You swallowed and Hoseok grunted, staying completely still. “Almost,” he said. Your lungs cried for air and as you tried pulling back to breathe, an impossible feat because of the strong grip he had on your hair, Hoseok let out a loud drawn out moan mixed with a slew of curses as he came, his hot release shooting down your throat.

Hoseok pulled out once he had finished, panting heavily while you coughed as air met your lungs again. You fell forward, hands moving to brace yourself against the cold floor. “Holy shit, that was amazing,” Hoseok said breathlessly. He knelt down next to you and wiped your drool of your chin before he pulled you up and moved you to the small seat inside the shower.

Sitting you down on the edge, he pulled your panties off, discarding them and knelt between your thighs. “What are you doing?” you asked looking down at him. “Rewarding you,” he said with a mischievous grin before leaning forward and pressing light kisses to your knees. His lips trailed along the inside of your thigh, stopping to bite and suck purplish bruises in the sensitive flesh. Your hands moved to run your fingers through his hair and he pulled back.

“No touching, not yet,” he said and resumed his teasing before moving to the other thigh and repeating the same actions. You moaned when his lips ghosted over your wet sex and he smiled before pressing a kiss to your abdomen just under your belly button. “Please don’t tease me, sir,” you whimpered, not forgetting to call him by his preferred title. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Hoseok chuckled lowly before throwing your left thigh over his shoulder and giving you a soft kitten lick. You tasted even better than you smelled and he leaned in for one more little lick before spreading your lips and focusing his attention at the small bundle of nerves. He wrapped his lips around it, the tip of his tongue flicking against it lightly and you let out a high pitched moan placing your hands palms flat on the seat on other side of you and leaned back against the tile. Hoseok alternated between licking and sucking on your clit while his free hand roamed, traveling up to your breast and cupped it, his fingers kneading into it. You whimpered while he continued, eating you out as if it was his last meal.

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar coil inside your groin telling you that your orgasm was building. As if Hoseok knew by some miracle, his hand left your breast and moved down to ease two fingers inside of you, pumping at a steady rhythm. He pulled back, grinning up at you, your juices glistened on his chin. “You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky and you felt your core tighten at his praise.

He returned to your clit, flattening his tongue as he licked harshly against it. He softly nibbled and you cried out. He added a third digit, moving faster as he repeatedly rammed them into you. Your hips bucked to meet his hand and another moan tore from your throat, which was now hoarse from his cock being so far down it before.

Hoseok used his shoulders to nudge your legs, silently asking you to spread them further and you did, allowing more access. “You should see how you look, babygirl. Legs spread wide for me. You’re such a good slut,” he said lips barely leaving your dripping heat. You could only moan in response. “God I can’t wait to be inside your tight pussy. You won’t remember your name when I’m done with you.” As you neared your high, you whined out a series of moans and sirs before you threw your head back and whimpered “I’m gonna cum.”

Hoseok looked up at you, a smile present on his face again. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” and he was gone. You groaned, angry at him for denying you your release before he was pulling you up, only to sit down and guide you to straddle him, your wet, quivering core above the head of his erect cock. His hands pushed your hips down as he slowly slid inside you until he bottomed out. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to his size, the stretch of him more than you had anticipated.

When the pain ebbed away, you rolled your hips against his and he let out a strained moan and grasped your ass in his hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you slowly lifted off him and slid back down. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Hoseok said, his eyes screwing shut as you rode him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, bracing yourself as you continued to bounce on his dick.

You felt one of his hands leave your ass only to deliver a sharp slap against your ass cheek and you gasped, the skin stinging where he had smacked you. He gently ran his hand over the spot, soothing it. He found it increasingly harder and harder to keep up the sir facade as you continued to ride him and take his cock so well.

His eyes fell from your face, the pink tinge of your cheeks and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrated, down to your breasts that bounced each time you fell back down on his length, and finally further down where we watched himself disappear inside you. His jaw opened in a silent moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when you leaned forward, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t,” you whispered and Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

He gripped your hips on either side and held you in place while he thrusted up into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls. Moan after moan fell from your mouth as his dick rubbed against a sensitive spot inside. Hoseok continued thrusting as deep as he could. One of your hands locked in his hair, the other rested against his thigh and you leaned back slightly while he rocked up into your tight pussy. Your eyes locked and he could see that you were close. This time, he wasn’t going to stop because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

His pace quickened as he chased his own high, but not before he snaked a hand between you and pressed his thumb into your clit, rubbing to the pace of his thrusts trying to time your climaxes. You threw your head back and moaned out “oh god, Hoseok,” just as he let a groan fall from his lips.

“God you feel so good,” he grunted and moved the hand on your hip yo hook around your waist and pulled you closer, his face buried in the crook of your neck this time as he thrust harder and harder into you. He was close, but judging from the tightening of your pussy, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his cock so nicely, you were close to coming undone, too.

A few more thrusts up into you along with the circles he rubbed into your clit had you crying out “I’m gonna cum!” Hoseok smiled into your neck and whispered “come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock.” His words were the final pushed you needed and you cried out, walls clenching him as your orgasm hit you. White blinded your vision, an intense heat spread throughout your body as Hoseok continued to thrust, helping you ride out your high before chasing his own and his hips slammed up into yours.

It wasn’t long after that he moaned, more of a whine, as he released his load inside you and continued thrusting until he slowly came to a stop, you still on his lap, face still hidden in your neck. You softly stroked his hair while you struggled to catch your breath.

“That was incredible,” he finally managed to say, pulling back and looking up at you. You blushed slightly and cupped his face in your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to hips lips, one he returned eagerly. “So, you wanna get cleaned up and get some coffee after? I know this really good cafe.” he asked as you gently placed kisses all over his face. “It’s not the cafe here, right?” you asked in between kisses. Hoseok smiled up, his hands on the small of your back as you arched, pressing your chest into his. “No, it’s not. The coffee here sucks.”

a/n: Whew!! I finally did it! I finally posted this. It was something I had in my mind since those most recent photos of Wonho at the gym came out and I just…. hello, sir. I’m a huge hoe for Wonho and my love for him will probably never die since he’ll never let me just L I V E. LET ME LIVE WONHO. I hope you all enjoyed this! I had so much fun writing it. Let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcome! ~K♡

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