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lyriumcoloredskies · 7 months

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Overdrive ft. (Law, Sanji, Zoro, Kid, Nami)

Pairing: Multi-character pairings ft. Law x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Kid x Reader, Nami x Reader WC: 1.2k Summary: Things that drive the OP characters wild. CW: 18+ MDNI Suggestive but no smut, teasing, mild not very descriptive violence in Kid's, food and eating mention in Sanji's, swearing, reader is described with breasts, no beta. AN: I've gotten way sicker and I feel like a small sickly victorian child, hoping that the country air will help my ailment. D:

Trafalgar D. Water Law

"Let me whisper in your ear, tell you something you might like to hear"

It’s been hours since Law decided to hole up in his office, sinking all his attention into a thick medical textbook. He’s halfway through a page when he feels a pair of soft warm lips press onto his neck. Instantly he feels his body erupt into gooseflesh.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels your warm hands make their way across his sides, lifting his shirt, before caressing his bare chest. Your lips work their way up his neck, stamping his skin with searing hot kisses, the slight smacking noise sending tingles down the base of his spine. As you grow closer to his ear, Law can hear your soft breathing, the sound going straight to his groin. Law stifles a moan that threatens to escape his lips as your feverish tongue makes contact with his ear lobe, slowly trailing its way up the shell of his ear. The obscene wet noises near his ear sends static through his brain, down his spine, and straight to his cock which continues to grow hard at your teasing. “How about you take a break?” you whisper before pinching his left nipple with one of your roaming hands, the other finding its way down his happy trail. Law quickly realizes he has no choice but to oblige.

Vinsmoke Sanji

"With the taste of a poison paradise, I'm addicted to you"

For the last few weeks, dinner has proven to be a difficult time for Sanji. It isn’t because he’s hit a creative slump with recipes or because he has to fight off a hungry Luffy from sneaking snacks. His troubles all stem from a certain other crew member – you. Sanji’s grip on his cutlery tightens as you let out a practically pornographic moan the moment a bite of his Poulet a la Provencal hits your tongue. You let out a few more obscene noises as you chew. Sanji swears the room is spinning. “Sanji~ this tastes divine, the chicken is so moist! And this sauce is just orgasmic~” you sigh out before dipping your finger in said sauce. Sanji nearly drops his fork as he watches your pink tongue dart out to lick off some of the sauce from the digit before you suckle it clean. Sanji thickly swallows at the sight, “A-ah thank you for the compliment y/n-swan!”. You let out a giggle before returning your attention back to your plate. Sanji is suddenly aware of how hot the room is and how tight his pants feel. Sanji tries to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths before returning to his own plate in front of him. He gets a few bites in before he nearly chokes on a piece of chicken when he feels a roaming foot caressing his inner thigh, he looks up only to catch your seductive gaze, a teasing smile plastered on your lips. Dinner would be another torturous affair.

Roronoa Zoro

"Girl you look so good, won't you back that ass up?"

Zoro loses count of his reps for the third time this workout. It’s been this way for the last few months. He would start his workouts with the full intent of giving everything he had, only for his eyes to wander, watching as the sweat traces a path down your body. Today was no different. His eyes graze over the curves of your butt as you work on your squats in front of him. Your muscles shake in effort as you let out several loud breaths. The entire thing turns Zoro on, his grey sweatpants no longer doing a good job at hiding his erection. He watches for a few more moments, carefully palming his length over his sweatpants. That’s when he sees you stutter a little bit in your last set. His body moves instinctively, stepping closer to you, your body only a few inches from pressing into his as he hovers his arms near the barbell bar. “Here, let me spot you” Zoro grumbles out. You give him a nod, adjusting your stance and grip. Zoro dutifully watches as you go in for another squat, only for your tight ass to brush Zoro’s erection as you went down and came back up. The pressure causes a filthy moan to rip out of Zoro’s mouth. In his embarrassment he can see you look back at him, a knowing smirk on your face. He had fallen right into your trap.

Eustass Kid

"She's hatin' 'cause I'm up and you can tell on her face"

Kid sits sprawled out in a booth with Killer on his right. His crew sits around him, everyone occupying nearby tables with a plethora of drinks flowing between them. He’s only half paying attention to Killer before their conversation is interrupted by a woman sliding up on his left side. He doesn’t bother to pay her any attention as she presses her hand to his chest and whispers in his ear asking if he would like some company. He waits patiently, secretly growing excited for what was to come. That’s when he hears you slam two mugs of beer on the table, liquid sloshing out everywhere. You were back from your run to the bartender. “Get the fuck off of my man you fucking whore!” you snarl out as you reach for the woman, grabbing her by the hair as you rip her off of Kid. There it was. Kid feels the first rush of blood to his cock as the atmosphere becomes fueled by adrenaline. The woman screams obscenities at you, flailing helplessly, while the crew eggs you on by yelling out vulgar encouragement. The whole scene turns him on, and he soon finds himself rock hard as he watches you throw the woman out the bar door. Your face is thunderous as you stomp back, gnashing out the crudest angry words at the woman’s gall. You don’t skip a beat as you down whatever was left in both the beer mugs before sliding into your rightful spot next to him, smashing your lips into his in a forceful hungry kiss. Fuck, Kid loved when you got possessive.

Nami

"I'm the First Lady of Juicy Couture, got a little cash now so the skirt is Dior"

Nami’s smile hasn’t left her face since she ushered you into the women’s dormitory, her arms overflowing with her latest clothing haul. “Y/n-chan~ you have to try these on! I picked them out just for you!” she says, pushing the bags into your arms. She relishes in the way heat takes over your cheeks as your eyes widen at the amount of shopping bags, clearly flattered at Nami's generous gesture. Despite your bashful look, you don’t say no to Nami’s demands, quickly stepping behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Nami’s eyes trace over your shadowed figure behind the screen as you peel off every bit of your clothing, heat rushes to her core. “N-Nami? A-are you sure you handed me the right bag?” you ask, your voice full of anxiety. Nami is patient, flooding you with words of encouragement. She’s rewarded when you step out from the screen. Your body barely covered by the most vulgar bikini money could buy. Nami’s eyes greedily soak up the sight of your breasts, spilling out over the small triangle top, your hard nipples barely covered. You’re so cute as you fidget in the bikini, your face red in embarrassment. “D-does it look g-good Nami?” “Hmm it looks okay, but I bet it looks better on the floor.” One outfit down, 26 more to go.

#fanfic #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #nami #nami x reader

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weemssapphic · 1 year

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Hi! I love your stories! Could you write a story about Larissa Weems and a University Student reader? Something 18+. They do the deed in an art museum restroom and the reader gets caught by their classmates because they still have lipstick stains on their neck. Thanks :3

hello! thank you for the compliment! 🥰 so very sorry that this has been rotting in my inbox for an obscenely long amount of time, my brain for some reason really did not want me to get this done 😣 i hope it's at least halfway decent to make up for that!

thank you to @afeatherformills for the beta-read <3

warnings/content: nsfw, age gap (reader is 18+), cunnilingus/fingering (reader receiving), praise kink, marking kink

words: ~3k

Lipstick Stains

next chapter | series page

“I’ll meet you guys back here soon okay?”

“Sure, just text us when you’re done,” Robin replied, threading her fingers through Christin’s and turning to lead her into an exhibit on modern art. Cassandra offered you a smile and trailed behind them, leaving you to your own devices.

You weaved your way through the throngs of tourists crowding at the entrance, all still deciding which way to go. You’d been here often enough to know the floor plan by heart, knowing which exhibits would be the most crowded on Saturdays. You also knew that your favorite exhibit would be deliciously empty, as almost no one wandered that far back into the museum.

You settled on a bench in front of an ancient Greek sculpture and pulled your sketchbook from your bag, thumbing through it until you found a blank page, and began to sketch, the world around you fading slowly until it was only static in the background.

“Exquisite, isn’t it?” A low voice in your left ear made you jump, your stomach dropping as if you’d just hit the peak of a roller coaster, your heart skipping a beat. In your art-induced daze, you hadn’t even heard anyone else enter the exhibit.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You twisted in your seat to find the source of the interruption: a statuesque blonde towering over your shoulder. A smirk graced her crimson lips as your eyes raked over her shapely form, pausing for a moment on their upward journey at her hips before moving higher and, finally, making eye contact.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, clenching your fingers tightly around your pencil as you worked to get your racing heartbeat under control.

“Larissa,” the woman introduced herself and you noticed that she spoke in a lilting English accent. Her voice had a soothing quality to it, calming you almost instantly.

Larissa. A beautiful name for a beautiful stranger. You smiled at that, heart fluttering at the smile you received in return.

“Y/N.”

“Would you care for some company, Y/N?” Normally, you would say no to such a request, prioritizing your alone time over small talk with strangers. But something about her had you absolutely mesmerized and before you knew what you were doing, you were nodding and the woman was sitting down next to you. She was so close that you could smell her perfume - notes of jasmine and rose, floral and decidedly feminine.

“Keep working,” she encouraged, seeming to notice your hesitation as you watched her. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you turned reluctantly back to your sketch and traced along the paper. Now it was as if your entire body was prickling with electricity at this mysterious stranger’s presence, your nerves alive and burning.

You stole a glance to your left, marveling at how put-together she looked - silver curls done up in an elaborate updo, drawing attention to her long neck and the smooth planes of her rosy cheekbones, eyes the deepest shade of blue you’d ever seen, framed by mascara-coated lashes that brushed against her cheeks when she blinked, lips a bright shade of red, parted ever so slightly as she as she admired the statue you were sketching.

You wondered briefly if you should flip to a new page and start to sketch her when her eyes shifted over to you, trapping you in her gaze, and the world around you stilled. A heavy blush crept up your cheeks and you couldn’t take it anymore, dropping your gaze back to your sketchbook.

“I have to admit I was surprised to see someone else back here, it’s my favorite exhibit and it’s not often I run into anyone here.” Larissa crossed her legs as she spoke, long legs that seemed to stretch on for miles, and you had trouble tearing your eyes away from them.

“Then I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner, I come here a lot. I like it back here, it’s quiet.”

“You’re here alone?” There was an edge to the woman’s voice, something darker swimming in her eyes as she leaned towards you.

“Uh, sort of? My friends are off somewhere, I’m not meeting them until later.” You squinted slightly, trying to discern the woman’s intentions, but she leaned back again, a satisfied smile gracing her lips, any edge she’d previously had dissipating in an instant.

Somewhere between outlining the Greek statue and your conversation with Larissa, you realized you’d begun to sketch her instead, the silhouette of her body slowly taking shape under the tip of your pencil.

“What are you working on?” Larissa tilted her head towards yours, her breath warm on your cheek as she peered at your drawing. The sudden invasion of your space made your cheeks heat and your pulse skyrocket. Her perfume was overwhelming now, it filled your nostrils and clouded your senses, making you dizzy.

You hesitated for a moment - after all, this woman was just a stranger, and being caught sketching her could end up very embarrassing for you. Something about her curiosity and openness, and your intoxication by her sudden proximity, won out though, and you pushed your sketchbook over for her to see. “Just an assignment for class. I’m an art major,” you supplied.

Larissa traced a long, manicured finger over the sketch, humming her appreciation, the vibrations clinging to the air between the two of you. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring earlier,” Larissa murmured, lips pulling into a smirk as she raised her gaze to meet yours. You were a kid with your hand caught in the cookie jar, until -

A warm hand on your thigh.

A quirk of a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

It was as if your ears were ringing and the air around you was thick and all you could do was wonder if Larissa felt it too.

Larissa’s eyes darkened as she hovered over you, lips parting as she waited for you to close the distance, your faces mere inches apart. You hesitated only for a second before crashing your lips into hers, whining at how Larissa’s tongue swiped almost instantly at your lower lip. Your sketchbook and pencil clattered to the floor as Larissa’s hands came to your waist and pulled you towards her, shifting you onto her lap to straddle her thighs.

“Is this okay?” She murmured into your mouth between kisses, breath ghosting over your face.

“Yes,” you sighed, not caring that you sounded more than a little needy as you wrapped your arms around her neck, enjoying the feeling of her palms settling on your hips.

The kisses became hotter, more desperate, and you found yourself beginning to search for a bit of friction as you ground your pelvis onto Larissa’s thighs. She moaned into your mouth and dug the pads of her fingers into your hips, pushing you down onto her lap.

You found a steady rhythm, rolling your hips and getting decent friction from the seam of your jeans, but it wasn’t enough, and it soon left you growling in frustration as the coil behind your navel wound tighter and tighter but found no release.

Larissa let out a breathy chuckle and moved her lips to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe before whispering, “let me take care of that for you.”

She lifted you carefully off her lap and motioned for you to gather your things - of course you did as you were told, you couldn’t possibly refuse this woman - and then led you expertly down several hallways, avoiding crowds converging at different exhibits before stopping at the restrooms.

Larissa pulled you into one of the restrooms, swiftly locking the door behind you before latching her lips onto yours in a heated kiss and pushing you back into the sink. Larissa’s body pressed into yours, your hands pulling at her waist. Her tongue swiped at your lips, begging for entry, and you conceded, allowing her to explore the contours of your mouth. Her hands came up to thread themselves in your hair, tugging lightly as her fingernails scratched at your scalp.

She pressed a plethora of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, swirling her tongue along the skin there. As she got to your collarbone, she began to nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, then soothing her tongue over the little red mark. Her head dipped into your cleavage, nibbling at the soft flesh barely exposed above your shirt, eliciting a low whine from your throat.

Larissa pulled back at the sound, peering up at you. No one had ever looked at you with such unadulterated hunger before, and it unnerved you. Your heart thundered aggressively against your ribcage, so loudly you were sure she could hear it as well.

A fire had been started behind your navel and was radiating outward, setting your whole body ablaze.

“Larissa…” A wetness pooled between the apex of your thighs and you clenched them together.

“You look absolutely divine,” Larissa growled before her lips hungrily crashed back into yours. Her hands settled on your waist, tugging you closer, though they didn’t stay there for long before they began to wander. Her left hand came up to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shirt as her right hand wandered down to your jeans, her slender fingers tracing the button in question.

“May I?” She muttered against your lips, voice low and dripping with desire. You nodded into the kiss, your fingers coming to your pants to assist with the process.

With your jeans around your ankles, Larissa’s fingers grazed over your underwear and she let out a sinful moan at the wet patch she found there.

“All this for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet?” She looked at you with humor in her eyes, a smirk passing her lips as she began to kiss down your neck again, moving down your body and pulling your underwear down with her, allowing you to kick them off and to the side.

“Let me get a taste of you, darling, hmm? I bet you taste so good.”

Larissa swiped two fingers lightly through your folds, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the unexpected touch. She brought the digits to her mouth and slowly, obscenely swirled her tongue around them to taste your juices, moaning and gazing up at you through her eyelashes. You gulped audibly, trying to clench your thighs together to keep your arousal from dripping down your legs, but Larissa’s hands came to your knees to force your legs open.

“Ah-ah, let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” You blushed crimson at her words, trying to look away, but a hand on your arm made you look down. Larissa looked at you with such kind sincerity in her eyes. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, darling. You’re beautiful.” The words didn’t help with your blush, but you held her gaze this time and relished in her smile as she turned her attention back to the throbbing ache between your legs.

Heat pooled in your stomach as Larissa dragged her nails down your thighs, placing her tongue at your entrance and trailing it slowly towards your throbbing clit. Her tongue began to circle the sensitive nub and a pitiful whimper clawed its way out of your throat. You were so close already, your excitement beginning to trickle down the inside of your thighs.

Your cunt was aching, wanting - needing - more. You clutched at the sink behind you, white knuckled, pressing your hips forward, anything to get Larissa’s mouth closer, anything to get more.

Larissa hooked your calf over her shoulder to get a better angle, groaning as your pussy opened up for her. She placed her hands on your hips to hold you in place, her nails digging little half-moon crescents into the tender flesh there. Your entire body felt ablaze under her touch, you felt almost feverish as she flattened her tongue against your slit, lapping up the juices that flowed freely.

“Fuck - Larissa,” you groaned as you began to grind your hips into Larissa’s mouth, chest heaving.

One of Larissa’s hands left your hips and you gasped as cool fingers brushed against your center. The action only served to stoke the embers in the pit of your stomach and you moaned as a single digit sank into your hole halfway, pulled back out, then sank in again, further this time, slowly, all whilst her tongue ravished your clit.

A second finger soon followed and you met your hips in time with the thrusts of her fingers, unable to take your eyes off the goddess kneeling before you. A particularly loud moan fell from her lips and vibrated against your center, all but forcing you to slam your thighs shut around her head at the sensation.

“I-I’m s-so close,” you gasped, biting into your bottom lip to keep from crying out as Larissa picked up her pace inside of you, curling her fingers into the spongy spot that had you tensing up and seeing stars behind your eyes. Her tongue latched onto your clit, sucking feverishly as shockwaves began to rack your body.

“That’s it,” Larissa cooed, her lips brushing against the hood of your clit and causing your walls to clench around her fingers. “Be a good girl for me and come,” Larissa’s voice dropped several octaves as she dragged her fingers in and out of your cunt.

Maybe it was the “good girl” that did you in. Or maybe it was just the fact that Larissa was good, really, really good, at what she was doing. But come you did.

Your thrusts became more erratic as you rode Larissa’s face, reaching your high on her tongue as your world exploded around you, vulgar moans dripping from your lips. Larissa carried you through it, lapping up every drop of your essence that poured out of you, tongue flicking languidly at your clit to bring you gently back down to earth.

For a moment everything was still, your leg still hooked over Larissa’s shoulder as she held you in place. She pulled her fingers out of you, slowly and ever so gently, and you mewled at the loss of contact, which earned you a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Larissa cleaned you up with her tongue, taking her time to explore your inner thighs and your swollen sex. She peppered your mound with kisses, then the tender flesh of your belly, the swell of your breasts, your clavicle, your throat, your jaw - her lips hovered over yours for a moment before finally making contact, though this kiss was nothing like the rest. It was slow and sweet, tender even, and you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“You did so well for me,” she praised against your lips, her hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking the flushed skin there.

As you pulled on your now-ruined panties and your jeans, Larissa stood in front of the mirror, washing her hands, redoing her lipstick, and adjusting a few bobby pins that had come loose in her hair.

“Will I see you again?” you murmured hesitantly, a bit pathetically, half-hoping that maybe she’d spare you the embarrassment of rejection and would pretend she didn’t hear you.

To your surprise, she grinned and held her palm out to you. At your quizzical gaze, she chuckled and said “your phone.”

You quickly handed her your phone and she added herself as a contact, before handing you back said phone and moving to the restroom door.

“Now, I really must get back to work, but do call me sometime.”

Larissa paused, eyes raking hungrily over your body. They stopped for a moment at your neck and a dark smirk crossed her face, a low hum of approval leaving her throat.

You felt utterly exposed under her gaze, short of breath, thighs clenched together tightly with want. Your heart pounded in your chest at the nod Larissa gave you, cool, almost professional, and in an instant she was gone, the door closing behind her. You steadied yourself on the counter, avoiding your own gaze in the mirror as you caught your breath.

Maybe, if you had bothered to look at yourself in the mirror, you’d have seen the many lipstick stains down the column of your neck that had been left during your little rendezvous, no doubt the thing that had left Larissa smirking at you before leaving you high and dry.

Alright, breathe. You’ll just find your friends, they’ll never realize you were gone. You checked your phone, 5:54pm. Shit, almost time to go. Without sparing yourself another glance (wrong move), you tucked your hair behind your ear, slung your bag over your shoulder and ran out of the restroom and straight into Cassandra.

“Hey, what gives? We spent half the afternoon looking for you!” Her eyes narrowed accusingly, then traveled down your neck, widening comically as her jaw dropped.

“Y/N, what were you doing in there?!” She shrieked.

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered, your beet-red face giving you away (as if the lipstick stains and blooming hickeys on your chest hadn’t already).

“You’re covered in lipstick,” Cassandra hissed, not caring that several tourists were looking curiously at the pair of you as they passed.

“I’m… I’m what?” You pulled out your phone, turning on the front camera to examine yourself and groaning when you saw the marks dotting the front of your neck and chest. “Larissa,” you whined.

“Who’s Larissa? She the one who gave you those hickeys?” Robin and Christin chose that moment to sneak up on the two of you, Robin slinging an arm around your shoulder and grinning down at you. Your blush extended to the tips of your ears and you swatted her arm away, huffing in embarrassment.

“So I say we order pizza tonight and Y/N tells us alllll about her afternoon with Larissa,” Christin teased.

You turned away from your friend’s laughter, looking distractedly across the main hall of the museum as you tried to cool your blush. A group of tourists passed the front desk and you looked past them, your gaze falling to a familiar tall blonde passing through the exit. Larissa looked up at that moment and your eyes locked from across the room. Red lips stretched into a devious smile, and just like that she ducked through the door, vanishing from sight.

#larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems #larissa x reader #it's actually embarrassing how long this took me #so so sorry but i hope it's decent #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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lordtraco-fanfics · 2 years

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Ok one more for the road!

Nimbasa Trio Soul Eater AU worldbuilding bullet points:

(it got long... I'm not a concise person.)

Tell me if you want a drabble on any point made below or have any questions. It's all my brain can focus on right now, apparently.

Basics:

Gym Leaders play the role of local defenders as per usual. They typically attune to one type of pokemon, allowing their soul to take on small aspects of them over time.

Weapon Shifters are a bit of an enigma. Some claim it comes from attuning with steel types, but that's a guess. Whatever the case, they have the rare ability to resonate with a powerful soul when held. They come in endless forms.

Frenzied pokemon can pop up anywhere, but they can be dealt with either by tiring them out or having a meister-weapon pair* resonate with enough positive emotions to quell it. It is a duty shared by anyone with pokemon or shifting ability to deal with the issues and keep things safe.

*or trio

Elesa

Grew up just wanting to be a model alongside cute pokemon

Was part of a crowd that a frenzied pokemon attacked while in her teens. As the only one with a pokemon, she pushed to the front to try and protect everyone.

It didn't do much, but she did stall long enough for two twins to burst onto the scene

The way they swapped forms in complete sync in order to dodge the attacks felt like a work of art. It inspired a new dream in her, to showcase both beauty and power.

She didn't see the end of the fight as the crowd was rushed to safety.

Worked towards becoming an electric-type gym leader.

As her soul attuned to electricity, she found herself able to control hair frizz not only in herself but others as well. Bad hair day? Go see Elesa.

Later met the twins after one of her first modeling events and shocked everyone around by asking for THEIR autographs

Became fast friends with the twins, but the idea of them needing a meister never crossed any of their minds.

Tried her hand at being a meister with another weapon shifter, but couldn't resonate well despite their best efforts.

During one difficult frenzy that involved many people, she found herself synchronized with her friends and before she knew it, they were resonating!

Keeps very busy with her multiple jobs but loves every moment of it.

Resonance with both twins: can use a move similar to Volt Switch, completely changing course mid-stride. Very fast and balanced emotionally.

Resonance with just Emmet: Can collect friction while running to unleash a static shock similar to Thunderwave. Smug, wild grinned pun master who is much more reckless and self-sacrificial.

Resonance with just Ingo: can momentarily make their resonating souls solid, acting as the move Protect. Somewhat more reserved and patient, yet will loudly compliment friend and foe alike.

Emmet & Ingo

Utility (Kitchen) Knife Weapon Shifters. Ingo's hilt is white and Emmet's is black. (Compliments the outfit of the other)

While they are liable to threaten, their blades have never drawn blood. (Careless nicks while cutting veggies don't count.)

Yes they've put themselves into the dishwasher before. Ingo has sworn Emmet to silence on the exact number of times.

Could shift since birth, grew up thinking it was normal.

Fell in love with trains and pokemon battling from a young age.

Pretended to be bisharps a lot.

Only considered using their shifting abilities when they saw a frenzied pokemon nearly derail a train.

Learned to resonate with one another at a young age. Not strong enough to quell a frenzy, but enough to run dizzying circles around any enemy.

Didn't really recall that one girl they saved during that one frenzy attack, so having a MODEL ask for THEIR autograph years later? Ingo nearly fainted.

Ingo had such a big squish on Elesa he had to Contemplate things. (It turns out he just knew she was a perfect soul to resonate with)

Emmet got a little obsessed with battling her. To the point he'd get a little sad on days they couldn't battle. (Their combined excitement during pokemon battles kept aaaalmost making them resonate and it was an addictive feeling)

Common knowledge said meisters could only handle one weapon, so it went without saying that neither could be her weapon.

At least until one difficult fight. They worked together as a team and when they realized "wait. The three of us are resonating!" the resulting relief and joy that exploded out quelled the frenzied pokemon.

They work as Subway Masters, and this sometimes means one will arrive late when Elesa needs them. They trust that her team is strong enough to delay until they can both arrive.

Both are very protective of Elesa, but trust her immensely. If she doesn't say to take the blow for her, they don't.

(This changes after Ingo disappears. Emmet refuses to lose her as well.)

Ingo can sleep in his knife form. Emmet cannot.

#nimbasa trio #soul eater au #subway boss ingo #submas #subway boss emmet #gym leader elesa #worldbuilding #the idea won't leave my head. plz help #anyways sleep time

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gyllenwrites · 4 years

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partition.

headcanon edition because ya girl is lazy! happy thanksgiving to anyone who’s celebrating today, on this fine evening i am thankful for jake gyllenhaal’s chain warnings: dirty talk, daddy kink, lil bit of borderline exhibitionism, this is lowkey trash, i need to go take a shower and read the bible

this was a mistake

he knows just how to wear you down, getting you to accept an invitation as his date to the premiere of one of his movies, and you should’ve known better than to think that the sight of him wouldn’t do you in

blue suit, tailored to fit, his long hair slicked back and the gold chain draped around his neck

you’re sitting next to him, in the limousine, stuck in traffic on the way to the premiere ( this, you suppose, is what happens when you’re an a-list celebrity )

jake’s unfazed by the fact that the two of you will likely be late — instead, he’s taking advantage of the quiet time the two of you have together alone, the calm before the storm when there are cameras shoved in his face and everything is go go go breathe when you’re dead

it’s just the two of you and the driver in the car, the driver up ahead with a small cut out in the seats providing him a window of access to talk with you should you prefer his company in any capacity and allow you both to see out of the windshield

“have i told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” jake murmurs, tucking a piece of hair back behind your ears. you feel the flush rise into your cheeks, the compliment unrolling a sheepish smile. “you’re gonna have all eyes on you.” the only set of eyes you want on you are already there, and when you glance up at him, bright, clear eyes are sparkling jovially

the traffic is slow-moving, much slower than the two of you had anticipated

each time you steal a glimpse at him you can’t help but to think how gorgeous he is, how no one else is around that you have to share him with and those being the moments you enjoy the most, because it means you can have him however you want, however you need, and your mind is admittedly derailing in thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him right now

“penny for your thoughts?” he finally asks after he catches you staring

you just shake your head and reply a half-hearted “nothin.’” which is not convincing in the slightest and jake can see right through you. “just taking awhile,” you add to try and cover your tracks

“we’ll manage,” is his cool response. “not like we can’t find a way to pass the time.” it’s not a suggestive comment at all but your mind’s already down in the gutter and paying rent, so it easily funnels his words into something you wouldn’t mind, something you’d like the more and more you look at his chain, thinking about all the times he’s been on top of you with it dangling down in your face as he rails you into the mattress

you don’t remember when jake became a mind reader but it’s as though he knows exactly what you’re thinking, like he can sense you’re growing wet just from replaying the greatest hits

you feel his fingers slowly begin to drag along the fabric of your dress and the urge to clench your thighs together is strong

you don’t dare to look down and watch what he’s doing out of the fear of giving yourself away, even though you’re pretty sure the desperation is leaching off you in waves

jake rewards it by continuing his venture upward, hand slipping over the curve of your thigh until it’s nestling in between your legs and the coolness of his rings from the air outside on your blazing skin feels like the tiniest reprieve

he eventually makes it to the juncture of your thighs and with a careful, slow motion, reaches to push your panties to the side, but he’s met with nothing. no scrap of soaking fabric keeping him at bay, just the heat of your core

it’s worth it to steal the tiniest glance over his way and his eyes are already locked on you when you do, baby blues dark and stormy with his desire — that’s when you know you are in for it

he decides that if you can be a tease, two can play at that game, so as one of his fingers brushes over your slit, he strikes up a conversation with the driver

they’re talking about meaningless nothings — or it could be some stimulating, enlightening discussion about the state of things, but your mind is buzzing with only one thing at the forefront of your focus: the way that he’s slowly teasing your opening, the tips of his fingers just barely dipping in and avoiding your clit

it’s taking all of your willpower to restrain the tiny whimpers that are building and stacking in your throat

he lazily pushes his ring finger inside you and you have to stifle the breath you take in right as it nearly comes tumbling out

he fingers you slow, like he’s testing the waters to see just how much you can take before you lose it and start begging for more

he adds his middle finger in and you have to do your best not to squirm, knowing that the driver can see you in his rearview mirror and anything you do above the waist is entirely visible, that the driver could turn around at any time and see just what you’re up to, how needy and desperate with want you are, that you can’t even make it a few blocks from the house without succumbing to your lust

jake keeps talking, occasionally pulling his fingers out and circling your clit in slow, tight movements that nearly drive you right out of the seat. he’ll take those moments to drag you into the conversation — “what d’you think?” and all you can do is just nod your agreement, a high and breathy affirmation as you pretend you’ve been paying attention

whether it’s mercy or his own lust starting to take over, you’ll never know, because he kindly asks for the driver to roll up the partition and the second there’s a barrier now separating you, jake lets the wicked smirk unfurl as he starts fingering you with a little more gusto, one of your hands clutching tight to his wrist. “so fuckin’ naughty,” he teases. “that’s my girl.”

“gonna let me take you right here?” he murmurs into your hair, and all you can do is nod. “’course you are, you’re so fuckin’ needy. so wet for me and we haven’t even been outta the house for half an hour. this all you think about?”

and you both know you’d be a filthy liar if you disagreed

he manhandles you out of your seat, pulling you into his lap so both of your legs are bracketing his hips. “don’t rip my dress,” you have it in you to weakly warn him, and jake just laughs derisively as he buries his face in your cleavage, the stubble brushing against your skin

“i’ll do what i want, baby girl,” he informs you, hands stroking up and down your thighs. “if i want you to show up to that red carpet lookin’ all fucked out, dress ripped and my cum dripping down your thighs so that everyone knows exactly what you got up to on the way here, then i will.”

just the mental image of what he spins with his words has your brain swimming with lust, a tiny moan at the thought

you need friction, desperately, your hips rolling downwards as he fists his hands in your hair and yanks you down for a filthy kiss. “fuck me,” you mumble against his lips

“mm, what’s that? i didn’t hear you,” he says, starting to pepper kisses down your jawline

“please,” you cave. “please daddy, i need you to fuck me.”

one of his hands leaves your hair and swats your ass through the fabric of your dress, the sound louder than expected and a bit more telling as to what you’re getting up to behind the partition. “lift up, princess,” he says as he reaches for his zipper, unfastening his pants and pulling out his cock. “go on, then, take what you need.”

you bite down on your lip as the head of his cock bumps against the mouth of your pussy, spreading you open as you start to slide down. “shit, baby,” he hisses into your cleavage, mouthing at your skin. “you’re so goddamn tight.”

you sink all the way down until your ass is resting against his thighs and he lets out a quiet groan into your chest. you start to move, slowly bouncing on him as his fingers grip into your skin and set the pace. “that’s it, honey, ride my cock just like that.”

you’re used to making noises whenever the two of you have sex, since it turns jake on to hear what’s he’s doing to you, but the partition only obstructs the view, it doesn’t silence you. you’re holding it all in as best you can as you take jake inside you, walls fluttering around him with each thrust

jake on the other hand, has a different idea. “ah ah,” he chides with a low laugh. “if you wanna come, you better let me hear you. let the driver up there hear what i’m doing to you, how you’re such a fuckin’ slut that you can’t even wait until we get back home to get my dick back in that pretty little pussy.”

“fuck, daddy,” you whine, tossing your head back as he guides you back down onto his cock, his hands tight on your hips to direct your movements. “you feel so good.”

“you can be more convincing than that,” jake whispers in your ear, teeth grazing over your earlobe as you slump forward, trying to chase your building orgasm

“please, daddy, please fuck me. need you to stretch me—” one of his hands slips between the two of you, thumbing at your clit. “oh, fuck, yes.”

“so desperate,” he murmurs. “don’t even care if someone catches you. what would you do if i rolled down the partition, let him get an eyeful of you riding my dick like a good little whore so he knew who you belonged to? you’d like that, wouldn’t you? letting him know who this pussy belongs to.”

“yes, daddy, it’s your pussy,” you agree.

he groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his movements on your clit quickening and evolving into tight circles. “you wanna come all over my cock like a good little slut?”

your mind is beginning to evolve into static, the friction on your clit coupled with the fullness of his cock inside you and the thought that any moment, your driver could roll down the partition and see the two of you fucking bordering on the edge of too much. “please, daddy. please let me come on your cock.”

“whatever you want, baby girl,” he whispers, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge each time he fills you up. “gonna keep me inside that tight little pussy when you come so you don’t make a mess?” you nod mindlessly, grinding down on his cock at the thought of leaving your wetness behind on the leather seats, clear evidence of what you’ve been up to. “fuck, baby. gonna kill me.”

it doesn’t take much longer to bring you off, turning you into a quivering mess as you hit your climax and slump into him, head falling against his shoulder with his cock still sheathed inside of you. “goddamn, honey, feel so good around my cock,” jake murmurs as he begins shallowly thrusting. “wanna...fuck, wanna come inside you. gonna let me fill you up?”

you whimper, nodding through the midst of your afterglow as another wave of liquid heat rolls through you. “look at you, gettin’ all wet at the thought of that.” his fingers tighten on your hips as he sets a rhythm for you, lifting you up slightly before dropping you back down on his dick. “that’s what you want, isn’t it? me to fill you up until i’m leaking outta that pussy. you wanna walk around tonight with my cum inside you? bet you do. you’re such a little fuckin’ slut for my cock and you want everyone to know it, too.”

his thrusts up into you grow erratic as he nears the edge of his release. “please daddy,” you beg, dying to bring him to release and feel him explode inside of you. “fuck, please come inside of me. use your pussy, daddy.”

“'s right,” he groans at your words, slipping another spank on your ass. “gonna make a fuckin’ mess outta my pussy, you’re not even gonna be able to take a step without my cum dripping outta you and down your thighs.”

“give it to me, baby,” you whine. “please, please, oh god —” you feel it when jake reaches his orgasm, holding you down on his dick as he comes deep inside of you. a broken sigh escapes you as he finishes, a languid smirk spreading across his face when he leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“such a good girl for daddy,” he praises. when he slowly slides out of you and deposits you back onto the seat next to him, the loss of him inside you taking a moment to adjust to, he nudges your thighs apart and curls a finger up inside you. it returns, shining with the mixture of his cum and your wetness and presented to you. you close your mouth around it, sucking his finger clean and keeping your eyes trained on jake. “bet you wish you’d worn panties now, huh?” he teases. “better keep all that cum inside you. i’m gonna come back for it later tonight.”

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal imagine #elise writes

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digitalworldbound · 3 years

Text

one step forward

Pairing: Ken x Miyako

Summary: “I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!” (#30 on the prompt list) Requested by @digichijouji02

Author’s Note: I’ve never written a “song-fic”, but I love Olivia Rodrigo’s album AND Kenyako, so this?? was the result. (this is unedited and kind of abrupt)

Called you on the phone today

Just to ask you how you were

All I did was speak normally

Somehow I still struck a nerve

Daisuke had given her Ken’s number as a preemptive measure. “Even if he isn’t apart of our team right now, I’m sure the others will come around soon.”

His oppressive optimism was almost worse than Takeru’s. Iori had made his stance clear on the situation, and Miyako could feel the guilt bubble up in her stomach as she punched the digits into her house phone. Nerves settled into her hands, her fingers desperately rearranging her hair in an effort to feel in control.

Three short rings later, the line picked up. His breath ghosted over the receiver. Miyako’s carefully planned greeting died on her lips. “Ah, is this Ken?” It was a stupid question – how else would she have his number if she didn’t know who he was? She pushed the phone closer to her ear, straining to discover any sound through the cloud of white static. Nothing.

Her heart pounded in her chest. In all of the reactions she prepared herself for, Miyako hadn’t expected silence. She wanted him to be angry; he had every right to be. She wanted him to yell at her or cry or scream. Screaming would be more bearable than the static he was giving her now.

“How have you been? You know, since…everything?” The sharp intake of breath short-circuited her brain. Ken had just watched his partner dissolve in front of his eyes, and she had the audacity to ask how he was holding up? A flush of shame crawled up her neck. She prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her.

The receiver clicked. Miyako hated the way the dial tone mocked her.

You got me messed up in the head, boy Never doubted myself so much Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy? I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff

Winter air nipped at her exposed cheeks. It had taken her a while to find his apartment; her toes felt like ice in her boots. He hadn’t really spoken to her since the phone call, only acknowledging her when the situation called for it. Nevertheless, he had invited them all over for a Christmas party, and who was Miyako to say no?

His mother opened the door, the smell of freshly baked gingersnaps escaping into the night. “Come in, dear. You must be Miyako! My Ken has told me a lot about you.” The woman ushered Miyako towards a bedroom door before her shock could register. What is there to tell? The only time I’ve talked to him was to slap him in the face.

Ken’s mother knocked lightly on the door, announcing Miyako’s arrival. For some reason, she could feel her cheeks burn when Ken gestured her further into his bedroom. “You look nice, Miyako.” His voice was barely a whisper, the boisterous arguing of Takeru and Daisuke nearly drowning him out.

Self-consciously, she caught her reflection in the glass of a clock on the wall. It had been a harsh winter, the snow getting the best of any potential customers to her family’s convenience store. Her sister’s skirt was too short for Miyako’s long legs, so she layered her old ballet tights underneath. They did little to fend off the cold, but it preserved what little dignity she had around her friends. The attempts at curling her hair were futile. Snowflakes clung to the curls, the strands now hanging limply around her face. She grumbled a bit under her breath, racking her brain for the reasoning behind Ken’s blatant lie.

A card game was in full swing by the time Miyako wedged herself between Iori and Takeru. They both smiled at her before turning back to the issue at hand: Daisuke was cheating.

“Just because I have natural talent doesn’t mean that you can be jealous, Takeru.”

“I don’t think it takes natural talent to look at Hikari’s cards.” The blond deadpanned. Iori sighed and exchanged a look with Ken. They, unlike Takeru and Daisuke, seemed to have formed a companiable silence in the midst of the chaos.

Daisuke’s bickering rattled her brain. With Ken’s unsolicited compliment and the constant arguing, Miyako was already at her wit’s end. “Can you both just shut up and stop trying to mark your territory like untrained puppies?”

Her voice echoed off of Ken’s bare walls. Their Digimon temporarily stopped their feast to look at her curiously. Poromon bounced into her lap, snuggling into her chest. Five pairs of wide yes regarded her with surprise, and Miyako could feel herself grow uncomfortably warm. A giggle burst from Ken’s lips, his cheeks rosy. She had never heard him laugh before.

Soon, they were all laughing. Cards were strewn about as they rolled on the floor, laughing harder when they realized they couldn’t stop.

As the party wrapped up, Miyako was the last to leave. Poromon and Minomon snuggled together underneath a blanket while Ken talked. Her cheeks warmed under the attention, but Ken either didn’t notice or was too kind to mention it. The hands on the clock ticked forwards until his mother startled them with a knock. “Miyako, it’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.” Her eyes were soft and full of kindness; Ken had inherited her smile.

“Of course! I apologize for staying so late. Thank you for allowing me to come over.” She stood and bowed clumsily. Her family valued no such formalities, but if anyone deserved them, it was Ken’s mother.

Ken walked her to his threshold, a hand nervously resting on her back. Despite being underdressed, he stepped out into the chilly night air behind her. A smile played on his lips, causing a swarm of butterflies to erupt in Miyako’s stomach.

“I wasn’t joking, you know?” His eyes looked out onto the horizon. Miyako raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?” The cold had already wormed its way through her tights; she was ready to get home.

His dark blue eyes met hers. “You do look nice tonight.” For someone so shy, so quiet, Ken said it with a conviction that made Miyako’s cheeks color.

Her hands were sweaty, her heart was so loud. Maybe I’m getting sick.

Ken’s eyes were so earnest, so full, waiting her response. The ball was in her court, and she was fumbling. “Ah, um, Ken, I don’t know what to say.” His shoulders drooped, eyes tearing away from hers before fixating on some imaginary point in the distance.

“You don’t have to say anything. Goodnight, Miyako.”

He didn’t have a chance to turn the doorknob before the older girl began to panic. She grabbed his wrist, pulling his backwards.

“No! Ken, that’s not what I meant! I mean, at first I had no idea, and then Daisuke was being all, well, Daisuke. But then the cards were all a mess and this isn’t even my skirt, and I had no-“

Ken’s lips twitched upwards, his eyes empty. “Miyako, you don’t have to make me feel better.” He glances at his watch, “It’s getting late, you should be on your way home.”

“No.” Her hand tightened around his wrist. Ken looked so small and confused that Miyako’s heart gave a painful lurch. Ken couldn’t leave until she said her piece.

The air burned her throat; she was sure that he could feel her fingers tremble against his skin. “I’m trying to say thank you. It’s just that I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I’ve never been in this situation before, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

Silence, then “You think I’m cute?”

'Cause it's always one step forward and three steps back I'm the love of your life until I make you mad It's always one step forward and three steps back Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand No, I don't understand

It must have been something in the eggnog, she thought. That’s the only explanation. It was the fourth of January. Her D-Terminal had remained silent since the defeat MaloMyotismon, Ken ignoring her messages with a practiced ease. It was hard to not take it personal. She knew that they all needed the space and time to grieve, but Ken hated to be alone. Miyako had been so sure that they were finally getting somewhere, finally becoming friends. Her inbox was empty.

The shrine was also uncharacteristically empty, her family making up the majority of the crowd. Her family had also remained silent. Ultimately, they were glad she was safe. Her siblings were miffed that their little sister had been trapezing between worlds while they focused on their math homework but were incredibly proud of the way she handled herself. Her parents hadn’t looked in her eyes since.

She had tried to message her friends about it, but not even Iori would respond. Lost in thought, her brother shoved her forward when it was her turn to pray. Muscle memory was the only reason she was capable of tossing in her coins and clapping.

Prayer seemed superficial in the face of the battle they had fought. Prayer hadn’t saved the children from their Dark Seeds or made the fight any easier to win. Still, her head bowed in thanks. At least her friends had been spared.

She prayed for strength, to face whatever came next. She prayed for the wellbeing of her family, and her partner. She prayed for her friends; she prayed for Ken.

Her D-Terminal beeped.

#kenyako #ken ichijouji #miyako inoue

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 03

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild angst, a sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

I like being with you.

The phrase vividly repeats itself as I blindly lead us to the park, my head in the clouds. So much so, in fact, she has to stop in her tracks and pull me back because we have walked past the entrance.

“Jaebeom,” she struggles to draw me in, firming her grip on my arm and weakly pulling on it, “we’re here already.”

It takes a second to register what Y/N says, but after a few haphazard glances around to see where we are, it does. “Ah, right.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nobody’s ever told me that.’’ Like a lovesick puppy, I bite down on my bottom lip. ‘’That they like to be with me, I mean.”

“Surely I’m not the first.”

“I think Jinyoung, a friend, might have said it.” I shrug, resigned in the fact loneliness has been a steady companion.

The packs in the woods rejected me if I didn’t refuse to join them. Too savage, too beastly, too ambitious, too bloodthirsty. Those are the prime reasons I have been on my own, although one in particular resonates in the blurry mess of vague memories.

I am too monstrous.

“But I,” halted in the middle of the gravel path, I turn to her and rest my forehead against hers, “like being with you too.”

Her heartbeat speeds up as her scent gains a floral, roseate undertone. A flush stains her cheeks, the temperature of her body heightened. In a moment’s notice, she has turned into a beautiful spring flower. No, not a flower. Y/N is more than that.

Like a she-wolf in spring.

In season.

That’s what she looks like.

So pretty. Mine.

I have to pull away before I sweep her off her feet and mate her against the first tree we come across. We don’t even need a tree, a simple bed of grass will suffice. After all, I still want her to be comfortable.

“Did... Did you dye your hair?” Flustered, looking like a lobster, the pretty lady pulls away. However, the growl that erupts from the throat as she moves away brings an interesting change to her scent.

A thick heady tone creeps into it, which definitely puts the girl in the other role the other ego wishes her to play.

A bitch in heat.

An image of her looking as she does now but on my bed flashes by. Tears are brimming on her lashes like crystalline raindrops as pearly teeth bite down on a finger in the futile attempt to mute meek high-pitched squeals of pleasure. She’s lying sideways, the soft skin of her leg on my shoulder while my hips lose control in her warmth.

“J- Jaebeom?”

I suck in a sharp breath, though it does not prevent a pleased growl from escaping. My sight grows hazy with the fantasies of instinct as the world falls away. “Yeah?”

“Your hair... Did you dye it? It was blonde before.”

“My... my hair?” The weird question pulls me out of my reverie, blinking in wonder as to where it comes from. Nevertheless, the senses quickly sharpen as I tighten my grip on the reality of my temporary humanity again. “Right, my hair. I did! I did dye it because... because I thought the blonde didn’t suit me.”

“For what it’s worth,” like a shy schoolgirl, Y/N fumbles with her fingers, “I like this better. This is going to sound weird, but it makes you look more like- I mean, it suits you better.”

“Thank you. But what does it make me look like?”

“Never mind.” A dismissive hand brushes the half-finished remark off as a mere mistake.

“What? What do I look like?” I lean forward, barely holding in the chuckle at her crumbling composure. Notwithstanding, apparently this is the most effective way to get her to talk. “Don’t be shy.”

“Like a- You know, a- You’ll think me stuck in some emo or late teenager phase.”

“Just say it, Y/N. I won’t stop pushing until you tell me. I won’t judge you either. So, tell me.”

The word takes my breath away.

“Wolf,” she finally answers. “It makes you look like a wolf.”

I can’t suppress a smile at the compliment, buzzing with excitement and tail swishing back and forth. Wait, it isn’t my tail that’s causing the low sweeping noises.

It’s merely the wind.

Human. Gent... Gentleman. For her. Her gentleman.

“Please say something.” The pretty lady’s heart rate picks up, her scent growing alarmingly anxious like when we had our second meeting on the street.

No. No, don’t be like this!

“Good. I am.”

“What do you mean?” Brows furrowed in confusion, she looks at me blankly.

“What... oh, uhm, I- I think it’s a good ex- mirror. Likeness! It’s a good likeness. Me and a wolf.” I stick up a thumb in confirmation. Hopefully, it won’t come across as ridiculous as I feel I look.

Her eyes light up with the amber sunlight, her voice as bright when she answers with an adorable giggle. “I think you mean a good comparison.”

“I do,” I mutter, ashamed at the faulty imitation of human behaviour and tired of the storm of words wreaking havoc in my head. “That’s what I meant.”

“Shall we go find somewhere to sit?’’ Her hair dances on the light breeze as she looks around. ‘’I’m kinda overdue for a cup of coffee.”

“And food. You have to eat, Y/N.”

“Jaebeom...”

‘’Let me take care of you.” I lean in, gaze focused on her lips as I run my tongue over them. The taste of honey and peaches is reminiscent of spring, when the bees in the forest get busy and the trees in the orchards on the outskirts of the town are ripe with blossom.

If I’m still here by then, I’ll take you there.

Of course, the thought is translated horribly. “Taste nice.”

“I- I’m glad you like my lip balm.” Cheeks as ruby red as the leaves beneath our feet, she carefully traces her mouth, fingers shaking.

Then she clears her throat and tries to steady her composure, but I’ve evidently caught her off-guard. Which is also noticeable in the small tug on my sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“Are you upset?” I ask, keeping a close eye on her as we walk down the lane towards a big open field of grass.

“No, it’s just that... when you licked me earlier, it wasn’t on,” she lowers her voice to a barely audible and unintelligible murmur though my hearing allows me to still hear her as clear as day, “the lips. It’s almost as if, you know, you kiss... kissed me.”

Kiss?

Just then we pass a couple with their lips pressed against each other. The contact lingers for a brief second, as fast as lightning.

And just as fast the meaning of it for humans dawns on me, rising from the ever-diminishing pocket of humanity inside my brain.

“Would you mind if I did?”

Face pale, she rapidly turns to me. Y/N parts her lips to say something yet decides against it and settle for something else. “Let’s start slowly. Get to know each other first.”

I’d kiss you. You only have to ask.

But we barely know each other. Humans who don’t have a close bond don’t kiss. At least that piece of information has stuck.

We take a right onto the big field and settle down in the grass beneath a tall willow. I’d rather have we sit huddled together or that she sits on my lap so I can keep her warm, but Y/N sits next to me yet far enough away to not touch at all. The displeased whimper and whine get lost in the unpacking of the sandwiches, ignored under the ruckus of unfolding paper.

Notwithstanding, the dissatisfaction evaporates like snow before the sun when a small hand gives me the two venison sandwiches. Restraining myself to not give into the hunger pangs, I accept the food as if she were handing me a weapon. A long metal blade. A sword, I believe it’s called.

However, the careful control doesn’t last long since the first taste of the spiced meat encourages the ravenous part of me to devour the sandwich in one gulp, if possible. And I would have tried had it not been for the breathless giggle at my side.

Nibbling on the straw, Y/N has a strangely tender look on her face as she watches me eat. A wonderful expression that colours a rosy shade of pink when she notices I’m staring right back at her. “Sorry. It’s just... just that I like seeing you eat. You literally wolf your food down with such a happy expression I can’t help but feel happy.”

Don’t talk with your mouth full. Jinyoung’s told you that more than once.

Like this morning, when he sighed in exasperation like a tired father during breakfast. Henceforth, I chew the food with my mouth closed, swallow and wipe my mouth on a napkin before answering. “I’m a messy eater, though. I don’t think it’s- What’s the word? Ap- Appetizing? It’s appetizing, right? Right, appetizing to watch.”

“I don’t mind.” Like a rabbit, she holds her vegetable sandwich between her tiny paws and takes a small bite out of it. “Just be careful. You don’t want meat juice and sauce on your clothes.”

Eats like a bunny. Cute. So cute.

“I won’t make a mess,” I murmur, taking care to actually keep my word while sneaking glances at the way she eats. It’s controlled, more nibbling than biting. All the same, relief and contentment mix in a calming way that’s visible in her relaxed composure. Even her scent loses more of the sourness of anxiety. But I’m just glad she’s eating.

We watch other humans as we eat, sitting in comfortable silence. A little ways away, two old people, a male and a female, sit on a bench and feed the pigeons together. Once there is no more bread left - multigrain, judging by the scent - their fingers entwine as they close their eyes to soak up the sunlight.

A soft whine unintentionally rises in my throat, longing after the dream of experiencing that very same moment myself together with Y/N someday.

‘’Are you-?’’ The question doesn’t register, hardly penetrating the dullness washing over me. Ears gloomily drooped down, I continue staring at the old couple.

Can that be us one day? How long is the road before we get there?

‘’JB?’’

‘’Hm?’’ Slowed down by the heaviness making a numb statue out of this body, I turn my head.

She holds the unfinished sandwich up I had in my hand a second ago. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’

‘’Nothing.’’ I take the food from her little paw. ‘’Thank you.’’

She doesn’t believe me, but resigns in the face of the unspoken message I don’t want to talk. Instead, she sighs and sips on the straw of her coffee.

“What do you do?” I ask by the time I’m finished with the first of the two sandwiches. Y/N knows what I do for a living and it’s the best question I can think of to try and get to know her better. Also, it might lift the heavy silence that fell over us until the elderly mates left.

“I’m a journalist for Pack. It’s a travel magazine and a great way to see the world. It’s amazing how much is out there, how many cultures and perspectives exist. However,” hands tucked between her thighs, lashes avert to the ground, “as you may have noticed, I’m not the spontaneous sort, which is why I don’t like working alone.”

Pack? As in, a pack? Although, you said travel so it’s likely... pack stuff? Packing up! That’s it! Putting stuff in bags and going somewhere.

If only it was possible to travel with her someplace far away. Go see the world together so she doesn’t have to be alone. Then again, there is no way to run from myself nor guarantee any form of safety on strange grounds.

I’ve become too unstable.

Despite trying to hide it, the jealousy I have for who she works with shows in the unintentionally venomous ring in my voice. “Who do you work with?”

“A colleague of mine named Kunpimook, but he prefers going by BamBam. He’s the social and truly adventurous one, so basically I just always happily tag along. Plus, his photos are superb. We’ll be leaving for Bruges the day after tomorrow to take a look at the local chocolate business.”

‘’Is there anything between you two? More than work?” There is no way I’m letting another male anywhere near her because he could take advantage of her. Especially after all this time, working together and thus winning her trust.

I don’t care if we barely know each other. I won’t have it.

I have to keep her safe.

As Y/N’s gentleman.

Her wolf.

“There’s nothing between us. He’s more like a brother than anything else and he thinks the same about me.” Her breath quickens as she notices the blazing distrust in my gaze. “W- Why are you looking at me like that?”

Instead of giving an answer, I sniff her to make absolutely certain this other male doesn’t have or has tried already to create the bond with her that I want despite what she said.

Nothing.

Nothing but summer citrus, autumnal blackberries and juicy peaches.

Good.

To calm her down, I lean in to nuzzle the scent glands in her neck while purring and manipulating my own scent to put her at ease. The tenseness in the palms on my shoulders relaxes, her breaths come at a more regular interval and the rigidity flows from her body.

You’re safe with me.

A gentle force pushes me back, growing stronger as I fight it by wrapping my arms around her waist. A low growl erupts as the resistance persists, though it dies down at the sound. I’m not letting her go.

Not now.

Not yet.

Until a voice like a shy robin stammers in discomfort. “Jaebeom, can- can you let go?”

“Have you calmed down?” It’s an unnecessary question.

There’s a better word for it. Sup... supper? No, that’s not it. Super... something with an ‘f’.

Superfluous!

It’s a superfluous question because the nervous shivers have stopped. All the same, I don’t want to let go.

I can’t.

I won’t.

Yet I do as something blurry flashes by in my peripheral vision. Almost bumping my head against her jaw, I jolt up and stare ahead in tender awe.

Free of the troubles of the world, a brightly smiling pup runs by with outstretched chubby paws. A bit ahead, there’s another giddy pup. The two must be chasing each other.

A child.

A child is chasing another child.

“What are you looking at?” She follows my gaze, which is fixated on the two children giggling and play-fighting with each other. They stop when hearing their mother call, rise to their little hind legs and run to her.

“One day, I want pups of my own.” The dreamy words roll off the tongue without a thought nor consideration for reality. What they see is what could be.

A dream of someday.

“Pups?” The word sounds like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit even though she struggles to make it fit regardless.

“Yeah, pups. You know,” I nod in the direction of the two siblings, “like those over there.”

A frown mars her lovely face, but it fades into gentle correction. “Children, JB. They’re called children.”

I tilt my head to the side, struggling to understand and make my own puzzle piece fit. “I’m certain someone’s offspring are called pups.”

“Humans,” she gestures from me to her, “like us, call them children. Babies when they’re younger than those toddlers you were watching.”

“I still think pups sounds better.”

I let go of her. Nevertheless, sust to be sure Y/N stays warm, I hook my arm through hers and keep her against my side. Instinctively, she snuggles up to me like on the way here.

The content sigh goes accompanied with an ironic remark. “Are you really a wolf or something?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, until I check my body and see no paws nor a tail. “No! I mean, no, I’m not. It sounds adorable, though, don’t you think?” I bite my lip, growing warm with another cheesy yet affectionate remark. “But you did say I look like one.”

“I stand by what I said, especially now.” She giggles, murmuring something under her breath I’ll only tolerate when she says it. “Weirdo.”

Yours. Your weirdo. Your wolf man.

“Have you ever thought about getting them?”

“I actually don’t want children. I’m not too keen on the idea of raising a child and I don’t think that will ever change.” Unaware of the gravity of her statement, she sits up a bit, takes a sip of coffee and finishes her half-eaten vegetable sandwich.

Not... not even with me? Then again, you barely know me and I will likely forget you even though I don’t want to. Would you change your mind if the pup might be the only trace of me before I disappear?

“How about you?”

“I’d like to one day, but...” I trail off, choking on the truth. Her words have created a stone in my stomach which makes me nauseous and unable to think.

“But what?” She places a bunny-like paw on my back, rubbing gently as she averts her gaze and speaks in a remorseful tone. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“I have this...” Fumbling with my fingers, I speak up despite the paralyzing speechlessness. No word seems to accurately describe what’s going on nor is it credible enough to describe the truth. Nevertheless, she has to know what’s going on.

I want her to.

I trust her.

So I try and tell her my story. “I have this condition. I have trouble remembering things and it’s been getting worse.”

“Is it something like dementia?” Out of a lack of a better explanation for this side-effect of lycanthropy, I merely nod in confirmation. A grim paleness colours her attitude, lips pulling into a straight line as she’s now suffocating with words too. “Do you have medication? Anything to help fight it?”

I fish the small bottle of pills Jinyoung gave me this morning out of my pocket. With a thumb over the ingredients, I show it to her. “My friend’s a doctor at the university. He’s put me on these, but I have a feeling they’re not as effective anymore as they once were.” I put the bottle back. “I do want them, though not with the way I am. They deserve better than a father who’d forget them eventually if he even remembers them at all in the first place. Moreover, my partner would have to take care of me as well as the pups. I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I’m sure,” our gazes meet as our fingers entwine, naturally weaving together like beds of moss on the bark of a tree, “they would gladly care if they know about your condition.”

I rest my forehead against hers and lower my voice to a hopeful whimper. “You know about it.”

A mistake.

“We’ve just met.”

“Right,” I murmur and withdraw though I hold on to her paw a little tighter.

She’s right. We’ve just met.

I’m still a stranger. A stranger in a world strange to him.

“Yet,” Y/N takes in a shaky breath before she continues and transforms the burden of loneliness into a storm of butterflies, “I’d stay. For now, can I stay by your side like this?”

“Of course.” In an impulse, I pull her into my arms and on my lap. Her hair smells like argan oil, sweet yet pleasant like summer. “Never doubt that. Never think I don’t want you to.”

Despite the joy, tears sting in my eyes at the realization I’m no longer alone, surviving like a floating ship in unknown waters. Of course, there’s Jinyoung, but he can’t be there in ways the pretty lady can.

Y/N is my anchor now.

“Don’t go.” I can’t suppress an ugly sob, gripped by fear at the vision of ending up alone in spite of the promise. To go back to the way I was, on the brink of being lost forever. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” she murmurs into my hair, lovingly running her fingers through it to calm me down. “I’m here, Jaebeom. I’m here. Until I can’t anymore.”

For a little while, we sit like this beneath the willow. The world shrinks and fades into a blur of autumn shades in October, its sounds gradually becoming nothing more than indistinguishable white noise.

They rise in volume again when I’ve stopped crying, the reality filtering in by sharpening the song of robins and nature dressed in warm tones of red and gold.

We exchange numbers. As she types hers into my phone, she promises to send me daily reminders to take my medicine and threatens to spam me with them until I send a confirmation. Guess I finally have something to look forward to aside from Jinyoung’s cooking.

Coming back was a good decision after all. I want to try for you. Until I can’t anymore.

“And you can call me whenever you like too,” she shyly remarks as we switch back our devices.

My ears perk up as a delighted buzz leaves me trembling. “Really?” I yelp, my tail quickly swishing back and forth. My nerves are on edge with delight, limbs ready to pounce on her. But I don’t.

Because I am human.

And I don’t want to give off the wrong impression.

But your body tells me something else. No! Not without your consent.

“Yes, because I... well, aside from being with you, I like... your... your voice.”

“I like yours.” I lean in and run my tongue over her lips like before. Does that count as a kiss?

“And I like your scent,” I add, purring as I trace my fingers over her arm to her wrist.

“Uhm, Jaebeom, what- what are you doing?”

I press it against my nose, drunkenly nuzzling it while trying to conceal my panting. “I’m scenting you so they’ll know you’re mine.” To strengthen the claim, I leave a stronger imprint of my own scent on her by giving it a firm lick. Even her skin tastes of spring. “You smell really nice.”

“I’m glad you, ah, like my perfume, but,” a strange panic creeps into her voice after a pained squeak when I sink my teeth into her flesh, “JB, I think you should stop. People are watching.”

“Let them.’’ The taste of iron floods the senses, raising the beast within further to the surface. Notwithstanding, I fight the urge to pin her to the ground for a proper mating. So all I do is help the healing by licking the ridged skin of the shallow wound. A wolf’s saliva works as a disinfectant and anti- ant- health advancer. ‘’I want them to know I’m your mate.”

Besides, how else am I supposed to mark you?

“Mate? What? JB, are you okay? You’re starting to make less and less sense.” A small warm palm cups my cheek, initiating a lock of gazes. Frantic with concern, she searches for a reason as to what I’m going through in my gaze though I doubt if she will. “You’re burning up.”

I weave my fingers through those on the side of my face, a wistful smile on my lips. “I’m forgetting myself again. You wouldn’t understand when I’d say I’m slowly fading and not just forgetting as I told you. And it’s gotten worse because of you.”

“Be- Because of me?”

“It’s not a bad thing.” To assure her it’s not as grave as she thinks, I close my eyes and hum in pure content. After all, I could lose my humanity a lot faster in a less pleasant way. At least it’ll be slower now that I have something to fight, to live for. “You don’t understand the significance of it and I don’t want you to.”

“You’re talking nonsense. You’re not going anywhere soon. Let’s go home before your fever gets any worse.”

Our fingers disentangle, mine gliding over the indentation I’ve left behind on her wrist before I wrap my arms around her waist. Her heart races in my ear when I rest my head on the softness of her breasts, her breath falling still in an instant when I place her hand on my head. Hopefully, Y/N will catch on to what I mean by it. “Yeah, it’s definitely getting worse, but I looked forward to this. This park outing. So can we please stay like this for a little longer? A nap might make me feel... bet... ter.”

The wish is granted, because she runs her hand through my hair. Hesitantly at first, but quickly setting a pace for herself that lets me rest tranquilly.

In the sky above, the moon looks down on us. If I wasn’t sleepy, I would howl to it and sing a wolf song. Instead, I purr and bask in my mate’s presence until I lose conscience. “Hm, nice.”

I love you and always will. My love will never change. I swear so by the moon.

#GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 x Reader #Werewolf AU #Jaebeom x Reader #Werewolf!Jaebeom

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crispyjenkins · 4 years

Note

Me again, hope you don’t mind... anyways could you do Cody and Obi wan First Meeting out of Cody’s POV and he slowly realizes that this isn’t you usual Jedi general but that Obi-Wan Kenobi is not only beautiful but also 1. Incredibly good at words 2. Actually cares about the Vode 3. For that reason dislikes fighting and casualties and actually shows his compassion to the Vode 4. Is an absolute badass and 5. Absolutely insane

(Obi-Wan defying the troopers' expectations is the reason i'm alive, and the vode being intimidated by this scary magic man only to find out he's a reckless dumbass who cares more about them than actually winning the war is just. yes. not actually sure how it happened in canon, my brain is being mean, but canon is nebulous and i do what i want.

so here's Cody being surprised by Obi-Wan's endless love for absolutely everybody, and obi being surprised that Cody is surprised.)

Cody is running on six hours of sleep in two days following General Rret So’s reassignment, and he isn’t even close to being finished cleaning up that... disaster. They’ve got a new batch of shinies to paint and name, bodies to bury, a new general to meet, and to be honest, Cody doesn’t have all too high hopes for their next one. It’s already kriffing clear that none of the Jedi have proper military training, and while Cody isn’t one for gossip, he’s also heard rumors that Kenobi hasn’t been in the field since Geonosis. And they want him to lead an attack battalion.

But when Cody arrives in the hangar of their current outpost to make sure it’s in shape before Kenobi arrives, there’s a Jedi near the center of the room, sitting on the floor. Or sitting... a few inches above the floor, only one hand gently touching the durasteel below him, and Cody halts just inside the door.

It doesn’t take much to guess his identity, what with the Jedi robe mostly pooled on the floor, whose edges drift in lazy swirls. The man has his eyes closed, several small stones levitating in equally lazy spins around him, but the casual show of power doesn’t put Cody on edge the way their Nautolan general had; the air around Rret felt like static when he meditated, but General Kenobi effuses warmth and calm, his expression as thoughtful as it is peaceful.

Cody skeptically takes in the armor under Kenobi’s robe, modified clone armour; General Rret never touched anything not sent directly from the Temple. And Kenobi is... smaller than Cody had expected of the famed Negotiator that had helped lead at the Battle of Geonosis, more lithe, more compact. His hair is longer than regulation (not that that has ever stopped Tup), just enough to pull back, with an endearing curl that’s escaped the elastic floating at his temple.

Cody was created for problem solving, for analyzing patterns and information where his rank-and-file brothers could not, but all these little details just leave him confused.

The stones gently and slowly settle back onto the ground, followed by the general as he inhales a deep breath, and that aura of tranquility does not leave when he opens his eyes.

And then he smiles at Cody.

Cody snaps a salute, nerves jumping despite the general’s expression, and tries to raise his mental shields like Jango had taught them to. “General, sir,” he greets, keeping his gaze just below Kenobi’s eyes, which unfortunately has him pinned on his lips.

“Commander Cody,” he returns warmly in High Coruscanti, rising in a fluid motion and holding out a hand. Cody stares at it for a moment before he realises General Kenobi means to shake his hand, and he almost thinks it’s a trap, but he hesitantly reaches out all the same. That smile grows as Kenobi then moves to grip Cody’s forearm like any proper Mando, tapping his other fist to the center of his chest. “It’s good to finally meet you, Commander: I’ve been assured that we will work quite well together.”

Reeling, Cody almost forgets to respond. “Sir?”

“I’ve heard nothing but compliments from your men, and from other battalions; Captain Rex in particular speaks very highly of you.”

Does he know Cody was almost court martialed for arguing with General Rret? Does he know about the multiple complaints submitted by the Nautolan for insubordination?

The way Kenobi’s eyes crinkle at the corners doesn’t assure him that he had. “I like to get my information from multiple sources,” Kenobi explains, finally releasing Cody to tuck his arms behind his back almost at parade rest. “You’re here a bit early, aren’t you? Excellent, that gives us some time to chat before your men arrive.”

It’s enough that General Kenobi went out of his way to learn his name, and then use it, leaving Cody absolutely helpless as Kenobi launches in questions about the cleanup from Rret’s departure.

Kenobi growls like a stampeding reek as their next assault goes to kriffing shit. No sooner had Kenobi managed to greet Ghost Company, that the call to arms had blared through the outpost, a droid battalion approaching from the South. Which was something Rret had apparently anticipated but not felt the need to tell anyone, including the High Generals.

And Kenobi had loaded up with the rest of them, speaking quickly with the pilot, and surely his general wasn’t planning on— on actually fighting with them?

But he had indeed leapt from the transport into the dense forest right alongside him, and Cody had realised, kriff, he has to try and keep this crazy Jedi alive long enough for him to ask what the kriff he’s thinking.

And then things just keep going wrong, from misinformation about droid numbers, to being cornered in a ravine, to Cody having to step over a Shiny that hadn’t even been named yet. Kenobi whirls through the droids with his lightsaber, but the B1s seem to just keep coming, and Cody has almost resigned himself to dying here, because Rret would never let them change the plan this far in—

“Commander!” Kenobi shouts, shoving a B2 droid off his ‘saber. “Full retreat! Evac is inbound, get your men to the top of the ridge!”

“Sir?”

Appearing at Cody’s side and handing him a fresh blaster, Kenobi’s serene expression is traded for troubled rage, but it’s by some miracle not aimed at the vode. “We’re not winning here today,” Kenobi says, jerking his chin towards the ridge as he tugs Cody behind a boulder. “We need to regroup, your medic is already overrun.”

Which doesn’t quite compute. It’s not as if they haven’t lost entire squads in similar conditions, what does Kenobi hope to achieve by—

“I’ll hold them off,” he says, making Cody choke on his spit. “As long as I can.”

“General!” By the Force, he can’t honestly think that Cody will let him stay behind, that Cody will leave him here.

“That’s an order, I’m not losing any more men today,” Kenobi says firmly. He checks around the boulder before spinning back to Cody. “I was told you were by the book, that you were a stellar soldier with his brothers’ best interest at heart. Are you going to make me a fool for believing that?”

“General, I don’t think—”

“I’ve given you an order, Commander. Retreat. I will meet you back at the outpost.”

Swallowing down the urge to throw up, Cody nods and salutes, and prays to whatever deity listening that he’ll wake up tomorrow with absolutely no memory of today.

Kenobi gives him a small smile, before reigniting his ‘saber and rushing back into the battle.

Cody is just beginning to wonder if they’re going to have to get another new general when Kenobi shows up in the last search party before they call it off for the night, stepping off the transport with several more injured brothers that hadn’t made it back with the first two evacs. A squad of shinies runs up to get the stretches to the medbay that is indeed overrun, but Cody doesn’t worr— can’t worry about that right now, marching up to Kenobi with a comm disk.

“Sir, welcome back,” he greets, taking quick stock of the minor grazes on Kenobi’s face, how limp his hair has turned, but he otherwise seems fine, which is a miracle in it of itself. “High General Mundi—”

“Later,” Kenobi cuts him off, not unkindly, but with an air of unspeakable exhaustion. “Master Rret So restationed your secondary medics, yes?”

“Yes, sir, but what—?”

Kenobi nods once and starts to follow the shinies, Cody matching pace with him even as he’s sure he’s broadcasting his confusion into the Force. Kenobi offers him a tiny smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your brothers aren’t going to last the night if I don’t go help Wupi, and you’re horrendously undermanned as it is.”

Another name casually thrown out, as if General Rret hadn’t even bothered to learn their numbers, and if Cody wasn’t already a whirlwind of emotions, he might have some feelings about that. Later. Everything later.

A thought occurs to him. “Sir, General Rret said they were needed elsewhere. The secondary medics.”

They arrive at the medbay that is in utter chaos, too small to house so many vode, already filled from their last skirmish and now completely overflowing. Kenobi looks around almost as if he’s going to cry, before he clenches his jaw and turns to Cody.

“General Rret was mistaken. I hailed the 501st from the transport, they’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, but until then, it’s my duty to keep your men alive. Can you help me do that, Cody?”

Cody simply nods, wondering if he had been concussed during the battle. “Yes, sir. What do you need.”

“I need every sheet you can spare, and the emergency medkits from all the transports. I need you to hold off General Mundi until morning, I know he’s expecting a long conversation. And please, tell him in no uncertain terms that I plan to have very harsh words with his former padawan as soon as the 501st arrive.” Kenobi takes a deep breath, seeming to draw energy in from everywhere, and then puts a hand on the side of Cody’s neck for the briefest moment. Almost like static shock, Cody flinches, but suddenly doesn’t feel so exhausted, and he blinks down at Kenobi.

“That should hold you over until morning, I trust you to handle the rest of the outpost?” He raises a single brow, but kriff if Cody is going to tell him no.

“Yes, sir.” He salutes, feeling a green warmth brushing against his mind that certainly was not there before, but belongs there all the same.

That warmth stays with him long after the 501st arrives with aid, and Cody intends to hold onto it for as long as his cannon-fodder life allows.

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

Ohohoho yes anon let’s turn this broccoli boi to the dark side 😈😈😈 also thank u @gallickingun for helping me with the plot!!!! And @jojosmilktea for hyping up my banner cause I seriosuly don’t know what I’m doing with graphics 😂😂😂

Izuku x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2700

Warnings: slight cussing

Summary: Izuku feels he is never going to get a chance to be close to you, being you two are so much more different than each other. But seeing you spar with Bakugo makes him decide that he has to shoot his shot-before it becomes too late.

-----------------

Y/n l/n.

Your name was written at the top of the page in Izuku’s messy handwriting, the name particularly more neat than the other names in his notebook.

Right under your name was a crude sketch of your hero suit, just like the rest of his pages of notes. Yours was somehow a little different, a little more detailed than the rest. It seemed to have more care put into it, as well as a lot more notes surrounding it than the other entries.

The other pages about the heroes and students he had encountered were much more simpler than yours, the writing only focusing on their powers and their notable strengths. You on the other hand, were different-Izuku had seemed to write everything about you he could fit into that initial page, the immense amount of detail eventually spreading out to the following pages.

No matter how he looked at the situation, Izuku knew he had fallen head over heels for you. He knew he shouldn’t have-it was like you two were practically in two different worlds.

You were blunt, assertive, and a little on the rebellious side. You acted first and thought of rules later, being the first to challenge someone to a fighting match, or agree to a dare no matter how risque it was. You were a risk taker, and you knew it, which made you such a perfect addition to Bakusquad.

Izuku,on the other hand, was nothing like that- he studied everyday like a good student, and always made sure to stay out of trouble as much as possible. He colored in between the lines, and he felt like he was so bland when compared to your wild spirit.

Even though you two were completely different in every way, he couldn’t keep you out of his head. You never seemed to look down on him, always greeting him with a warm smile and asking him how he was. Your laugh echoed in his head like a catchy song, and the way you would send him smiles from across the room made his heart race. Izuku was fully aware that he was most likely going to get his heart broken if he didn’t make a move soon, but he was content at the moment with admiring your beauty and resilience from afar.

“Cmon y/n, I told you not to go easy on me!”

Izuku perked his head up from his note taking, noticing that voice to be none other than Bakugo. Poor Izuku’s eyes were blown out of sockets, though, as he saw the scene unfolding in front of him.

There was Kachan, his friend and sometimes rival, toppled on top of you, his torso straddling your hips. Bakugo’s large hands had your wrists pinned to the ground, his powerful legs pushing yours into the ground to keep you from squirming.

Uncharacteristic anger bubbled inside Izuku as he saw Bakugo on top of you in such a suggestive pose. He knew you two were just training, but-he couldn’t help but wish that he was the one on top of you, not Bakugo. Heck, he just wished he was the one you asked for help with training and not Kachan. Izuku never wanted to feel like he was competing with his friend, but right now, he felt like he was-and he was losing.

It didn’t help either that you were close to Bakugo, always hanging out with him and his friends. You weren’t that afraid of his yelling and his threats, merely laughing at him when he was on another rampage. Bakugo seems to treat you like an equal, actually offering you compliments from time to time and allowing you to train with him. Izuku knew only a few people could earn Bakugo’s respect, and it couldn't be a good thing for his love life if his antisocial best friend seemed to take an extra interest in his crush.

Izuku watched as you laughed at Bakugo’s statement, your sweet laugh ringing like bells.

“Hell Bakugo, you thought that was me going easy? I was just getting started!” You scoffed at the ash blonde boy, your chest then connecting with his.

Izuku sucked in a tight breath, holding it in as he watched you wrap your legs around your opponent. You then quickly flipped your bodies around, landing so it was now you, not Kachan, who was on top. Bakugo took a large gasp of air, his lungs unable to get a proper inhale from the sudden movement.

You shoved his shoulders into the ground, shimmying on his chest to get a better grip.

“God Bakugo, you're so quiet!” You smirked, “Didn't know you liked being a bottom so much-“

“S-s-shut the hell up you damn idiot, I’ll fucking-“ Bakugo instantly started yelling at you, the twinge of red in his cheecks hard to ignore for Izuku. You continued to laugh at his reaction, your body shaking from the giggles as you continued to sit on his stomach.

Izuku looked down at his notebook full of notes about his devotion to you, sighing sadly-

Yeah, he had no chance.

As you continued to chuckle, trying to hold your grip on the aggressive boy under you, you looked to your left. To your surprise, you saw a lonely looking Midoriya under a shady spot of a tree, looking slightly sad as he stared down at his lap.

You and Izuku were pretty good friends, as you both seemed to have mutual likes and interests in and out of class. You didn’t talk much to the green haired boy, but you found him to be extremely sweet and quite attractive. You also didn’t socialize with him as much as you wished you did, but since you two were completely different friend groups, it made it quite difficult to hang out with the greenette.

You wished you knew what was going on in that poor boy's head right now, his head hanging low on his shoulders. He looked so defeated, his back arched as if he was carrying a heavy burden on himself.

“Shitty woman-your hurting my fucking wrists!” Bakugo spat out, his eyes filled with anger. You smirked at your opponent, knowing full well that was his way of “taping out”.

“Sorry Bakubro-,” you replied, rolling off his stomach as he rubbed his wrists tenderly, muttering about how “crappy” you were.

You ignored your friend’s remarks, making your way over to the poor boy underneath the cherry blossom tree. He didn’t seem to even notice you walking towards him, his hands resting sadly on his notebook in deep thought. You smiled softly at him-he looked so cute when he was thinking so intently, even if he did look a little solemn.

“Hey, Earth to Midoriya!” You hovered your hand over his eyes, breaking his daze.

“Oh-uh-y-y/n!” He squeaked, his body jumping from your sudden presence.

You laughed at his jumpiness, causing a red hue to grace his cheeks. Izuku didn’t even notice you sneaking up on him...but the fact he had made you laugh made him stomach feel warm and fluttery.

You stood in front of the boy, thinking it might be better to be at eye level with him.

“Mind if I sit?” You asked

Midoriya shook his head vigorously, his heart pumping wildly in his chest. “N-n-no, not at all!” He said enthusiastically, scooting over so you had more room.

You plopped yourself right next to him, seemingly unfazed by the sudden closeness. Izuku, on the other hand, was freaking out internally.

He could practically feel the heat radiating off you, your infectious personality seeping into his, brightening up his spirits. Your shoulder was resting on his, the breeze flitting through both your hairs. He couldn’t believe you had come to him, let alone sit next to him and want to talk. Even if you maybe had a thing with Bakugo, this was a win in his head.

You looked down at Midoriya's hands, noticing the slight shake in his fingertips. You smiled softly-this boy was too nervous for his own good.

“Are your hands doing okay-I know you train really hard,” you stated matter of factly, tenderly picking up one of his scarred and calloused hands with your own.

Izuku’s brain was about to explode-you were touching him now? Even though his brain felt fuzzy and full of static, he loved the way your skin felt against his own. It was just as calloused, but the skin was softer and feather light, the pads of your fingers tracing each scar like a message in Braille. You flipped his hand over gently, following the roads of his skin as you inspected his hand.

Each touch left a ticklish feeling that settled in his skin, the tingling simultaneously calming and accelerating his heart rate. God, he could get used to this.

“Their-their doing fine,” he stuttered out, his face engulfed in red.

“You sure?” You gave him a knowing look, a small smirk on your lips. “Cause you look like you punched a wall”

You giggled at his embarrassed face, your sweet voice making his heart thump against his chest.

“Well, since I’m still not used to my power yet, it takes quite a toll on my body,” he rambled , staring at the hand you were currently holding, “s-so I have to train extra hard to allow my body to fully grow to handle its power.”

You nodded your head, letting go of his hand and resting yours on your knee.

“That makes sense,” you agreed, resting your head on the trunk of the tree, “You got a hell of a powerful quirk if you have to train that hard...I've always admired you for that.”

Izuku’s head shot up in confusion...admired him? He thought you didn’t even notice he was alive! He stared at your profile, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Oh, it’s really not that big of a deal,” he rambled on again, scratching the back of his neck, “it’s expected of me to do that-“

“No it isn’t!” You argued back supportively, “none of us ever train as hard as you do! You always try your best, no matter the circumstances. Hell, I don’t even think Shoto trains as hard as you and he’s the one that came to UA off of recommendations!”

“Oh-oh it’s not that big of a deal, I promise-“

You were beginning to feel frustrated that this shy boy couldn’t take your compliment. Midoriya was too sweet and humble for his own good, and it took quite a lot to get him to believe your words. You took that as a challenge, and you were all up for it.

Your arm crossed over Izuku’s body, encasing him in your body so you could fully look at his face. His eyes were wide from your sudden movement, his freckles much more prominent as his cheeks were dusted with pink.

“You are strong Midoriya, and I have a reason to admire you,” you stated, your face a mere inches from his.

Izuku couldn’t move, and really, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. You were so close: he could see every beauty mark, every strand of hair that graced your complexion. He could even smell your perfume, a light floral scent that made his head swoon. He was feeling so awkward, not knowing how to react, but he wanted to stay like this forever.

You smiled at the young hero, taking his quiet demeanor as him surrendering to your compliments. You swung your body off of his, leaving a cold spot in Midoriya's stomach from moving away so soon.

“Which reminds me…” you began, your hands resting your stomach. “I wanted to see if you wanted to train tomorrow after class-I'd really like it if you gave me some pointers on my technique.”

“Oh-I’d be honored!” He exclaimed, but then chuckled nervously at a sudden realization.

“B-but I think Kachan wouldn’t like it if I were there…”

You cocked your head in confusion, staring at the greenette’s face, perplexed by his statement.

“Bakugo isn’t going to be there-it'll just be you and me,” you stated matter of factly.

Izuku instantly fidgeted, feeling dumb for just assuming it would you and all your friends. Of course if you asked it would just be him and you! He instantly shook off the embarrassment, feeling giddy from happiness. You had asked him-not Kirishima, or Shoto, or Kaminari, or even Kachan-him, to train with you. He felt like he was on top of the world.

But then the alarm bells began to ring in his mind, a memory flitting back into his head that was stopping him from agreeing instantly.

-----------------------

He was at the lunch table one day, staring sadly at your table full of friends. Right now, they were currently trying to throw pieces of meat into your mouth, the yells and laughs flowing over to his quiet table. You were laughing, trying to catch the small bits of food and looking like you were having the best time.

His friends noticed his saddened demeanor, following his gaze to your table.

“Midoriya are you feeling quite alright?” Iida asked as he looked down at the green haired boy, “you're staring quite intently.”

“Huh?” Izuku shook his head a few times, looking at Iida with rosy cheeks, “oh-oh I wasn’t staring-or looking at y/n-san…”

Uraraka giggled nervously, giving her friend a strange look. “Uh-Midoriya, Iida never said you were staring at y/n...just that you were staring-“

“Oh! Well - I was- uh…” he stuttered out, not knowing how to get out of the situation. He was cursing himself internally for basically admitting to his crush he had worked so hard to keep quiet.

Iida took a bite of his food, focusing his attention at your table as well.

“Y/n is truly a free spirit-she’s quite a rebel as well,” Iida commented.

“Yeah, it seems like almost every week Mr. Aizawa has to speak to her about something she’s done… she’s really nice, but she is a little on the wild side,” Uraraka followed suit, focusing her attention on a quiet Midoriya instead.

“Do you really like her Midoriya?” She asked, her wide eyes seemingly staring into his soul.

Izuku giggled nervously, fiddling with his hands. “I-I guess...maybe….”

Uraraka pursed her lips, giving Iida a pained look. They both cared for Midoriya dearly, but didn’t know much about you except you were one of the “wild ones” of Class 1-A. You and Midoriya seemed completely opposite, and both friends felt that this crush would end badly for poor Midoriya's heart.

Iida sighed again, looking at his blushing friend, “Midoriya, it is wonderful you find so much love and affection for y/n-“

“But this probably won’t end well. She’s friends with Bakugo, and all of his friends-she’s just so different from you Izuku. We just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Uraraka finished Iida’s statement, watching Izuku slump into his chair a little more.

He felt almost defeated-his friends were right, you two were in completely different worlds and values. No matter how much he tried to weave a plan or scenario in his mind that would somehow end in you two being together, it just never seemed to work out.

The bell rang for lunch to end, Izuku still slumped in his chair in defeat.

“Cmon Izuku,” Uraraka said sweetly, offering her hand to him, “let’s go to class,”

He got up sadly, his friend's words echoing in his mind as he walked to class.

They were right-it wouldn’t ever end well for him.

—————-

But now, seeing your waiting face so close to his, he couldn’t help but say yes. He had to at least try, to see if maybe you did have something between the two of you.

Forget about your wild personality, or the fact you two were so different, or the way you seemed so close to Kachan-he was going to shoot his shot, even if that meant he was going to get hurt in the process.

This was his chance-it was now or never.

Izuku took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow.

“I would-love to train with you...and-and maybe,” he gulped, feeling his heart beat fast against his chest, “we can get some ice cream after?”

You smirked at the blushing boy, having a feeling at what he was implying.

“Just you and me?” You mused, leaning into Izuku’s body slightly.

He nodded feverishly, feeling his confidence begin to wane slightly at your sudden closeness.

“Y-Yep! Just- you and me.”

—————-

Taggings (if ya want to be added, just shoot me an ask or comment on this post!)

@birds-have-teeth @gallickingun @yuueimagines @bnhabadass @dabis-devil @freckledoriya

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnhabookclub #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha izuku x reader #mha izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha deku x reader #deku hc #deku #i

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Text

Vulture In Lark’s Clothing

As a rule of thumb, Geralt didn’t ask questions. He assessed a contract from purely his own perspective, whether it was worth his time and danger and, if he deemed it valuable, he took it. No questions asked. No prying into who he was protecting, who he was escorting or why. If the money was good, he did it. It was why people liked him so much, employed him despite his less than sociable demeanour. The job got done and he didn’t fuss, even if he got blood and guts in his hair.

His latest contract was a curious one. Pick someone up from prison and escort them to the other side of the country to a hearing. Allegedly he was a witness but Geralt couldn’t care if it was his own hearing. A job was a job.

There have been many people Geralt had met but not a single one had been quite as exasperating as Jaskier. Who the fuck got arrested with only a lute and some fancy clothes to their name? Jaskier. Obviously. But it was neither here nor there. What mattered was that he was constantly making noise. Wherever he went, the lute did too. Even when Geralt threatened to throw it out the car window, Jaskier had just laughed and began composing a ditty about a tumbleweed crossing a country having more of a personality than Geralt.

The thing that made Geralt so good at his job was his ability to just deal with things without a fuss. He’d picked up on the fact they were being followed a while back. It wasn’t anything to be concerned about just yet. Well, he was concerned but he had it in hand. Their tail was keeping their distance, watching and assessing.

“So, our charming friend has been very thorough in his observations,” Jaskier commented out of the blue as they had stopped to get lunch. The ever present lute was leaning against his chair as he picked through a salad, eating all the onion from it.

“Nothing to worry about.” Geralt replied and munched steadily on his burger.

That night they were in a motel, Jaskier in the bed, Geralt on the sofa. When Geralt woke up suddenly, he tried to figure out what had roused him. A peek into the bedroom and Jaskier wasn’t there. Probably gone to the bathroom but checking there revealed an empty room. Scouting through the kitchen and living room, Geralt was ready to grab his guns and track down the idiot who stole him. To do that, he would need information, namely how some schmuck got into the bedroom and abducted Jaskier from under his nose. Pushing the bedroom door open, Geralt blinked. There was Jaskier, curled up in bed and fast asleep. Maybe Geralt was more tired that he’d thought, to have missed the fact Jaskier was there all along. He returned to the sofa and tucked his guns under the cushion, grumbling. Weirdly enough, their tail was gone the next morning.

One problem with Jaskier (well, one of the many) was the fact that he was so soft. Always demanding they stop over night somewhere with a decent bed, getting stroppy when they only bought food from a petrol station, he even went as far as kicking up a fuss when they hadn’t had the chance to shower for three days. How he survived in prison was beyond Geralt. He wouldn’t ask though, that wasn’t his place and asking meant he might actually care. Which he most certainly didn’t.

A spot of trouble happened at one of the restaurants they had stopped off at. A group of idiots had taken quite a dislike to Jaskier singing in the corner while Geralt ordered at the bar. They were closing in on him and Geralt could hear his name being called. To cut a violent story short, the men didn’t end up bothering Jaskier. But the price of that was being barred from the restaurant. From in front of the door they had just been thrown through, Jaskier turned, hands in the air as he cursed them, threatened to write a scathing song and leave a very rude review online. Silently, Geralt wiped the blood from his knuckles and walked towards the car. This job was starting be much more of a hassle than worth.

At least, he thought that until Jaskier turned his flirting to Geralt. It had been common enough for Jaskier to wink and compliment his way through any establishment they set foot in. Praise for the receptionist at the motel, a smile filled with promise to the attendant at the petrol station, he even had the gall to blatantly and appreciatively give the cleaner of the restaurant bathroom once over the one time. As an outsider, Geralt found it charmingly sleazy. But even he couldn’t deny that it was worth the small upgrades he would never have got before.

“You never know who you’re meeting,” Jaskier had reasoned.

The attention Jaskier started paying Geralt was awkward at first. Geralt had no idea what to do. He’d seen Jaskier go through the motions umpteen times before, knew it didn’t mean anything. And yet, he wanted to feel as special as Jaskier suggested he was. Which was just ludicrous, Geralt didn’t need someone’s approval or appreciation. Especially not from an incompetent criminal who got caught. And couldn’t even protect himself from a bunch of idiots at a restaurant. What Geralt missed was the news article about the murder or four men in the town they had just left behind, throats slit.

Whoever Jaskier was, Geralt was starting to realise that he was more important that he thought before. The closer they got to their destination, the more trouble they ran into. Not just people trailing after them now but actual attempts on Jaskier’s life. As if the idiot had actually realised. He merrily strutted through the world as if it was the safest place, strumming his lute and humming. And flirting. Always flirting, even with the pigeons by his feet if the mood took. Yet, Geralt still felt a warmth spreading through him whenever Jaskier smiled at him. It seemed like a special smile, warmer and even more sincere than the ones he gave everyone else. It made Geralt feel alarmingly disarmed in the face of it.

He’d just finished mopping up a trail of people after Jaskier who flounced through little side streets without a worry. This was the reason Geralt liked to wear black clothes, they didn’t show up anywhere near as much blood. Though, to be fair, he did try to just knock people out first. A warning of sorts that if they got near again, he could and would do so much worse.

“Ah! Geralt! I was wondering where you got to.” Jaskier skipped towards him. Actually skipped.

“I had business to take care of.” What he didn’t expect was for Jaskier to push his lute onto his back and stand almost nose to nose with him.

“My wonderful White Wolf, always keeping an eye out for me,” he breathed, eyes flicking to Geralt’s lips. As if Geralt wasn’t paid to keep him alive. It sure as shit wasn’t Geralt doing this out of the goodness of his heart. All thoughts however flew from his mind as Jaskier tugged him in for a kiss. There was a hand in his hair, a tongue in his mouth and a hand drifted over his hip.

The sound of a gun going off was deafening and Geralt froze, eyes opening to see Jaskier, eyes open and staring past Geralt’s head even as they kissed. Pulling away, Geralt looked over his shoulder. There was a body sprawled on the ground, very obviously dead. And Jaskier’s arm was still out, gun in hand.

“I think you missed one,” Jaskier smiled merrily as if he hadn’t just shot someone in a back alley. There was no response to that, Geralt’s brain was a blank static as he tried to realign his opinion or Jaskier with this new information.

“What?” That was going to have to do. It conveyed everything and Jaskier liked to talk anyway.

As expected, Jaskier laughed lightly and tucked the gun he’d slipped from Geralt’s hip back into its holster and patted his cheek fondly. “Well, you’ve been doing such a great job of taking care of the bumps along the road, I didn’t see the need to intervene most of the time.”

The ‘most of the time’ had Geralt’s hackles rising. He was damn good at his job and didn’t need some two-bit idiot claiming to step in to mop up after him. He growled low in his throat, a noise that usually sent most people scattering in fear. However, Jaskier just laughed in his face and called him cute, proceeded to plant another kiss on Geralt’s lips and turned to continue his journey, expecting Geralt to trail after him.

Things didn’t get easier after that. Geralt was trying his best to keep professional and not ask anything about just who Jaskier was. But it wasn’t very professional to fall into bed with Jaskier at any chance he got. Motel bed, bathroom stall, once even in the car, pulled over on the side of the road. It was messy but so damn satisfying.

As always, things went tits up three hours before they got to their destination. There was a car chase that ended with Jaskier hanging out the window of their car and taking alarmingly good potshots at their attackers. They worked in tandem with more ease than Geralt had ever experienced with anyone. While he was on the offensive, Jaskier was restocking in more and more creative ways. He sent a Molotov cocktail of, actually, Geralt didn’t want to think about what he found in the hardware shop to use for that. It exploded, there were screams and they had a window of opportunity to run.

In a way, Geralt almost regretted it. Because while he was loading his guns, Jaskier was hurling hammers, wielding circular saw blades like his personal throwing stars and causing a rather gory mess. At least Geralt managed to wrangle the chainsaw from his grip before he went into a full on fight with that. It was the moment Geralt understood how Jaskier survived prison.

Outside the courtroom, Geralt turned to Jaskier, finally asking the question he had been wanting to all along.

“Who the hell are you?”

It was met with a delighted laugh. “Ever heard of The Bard?” Geralt shook his head. “Little Lark?” Another shake of his head and Jaskier looked both exhilarated and aghast. “The hitman of the century? The singing killer? No?”

“No.” Geralt shook his head.

“In which case,” Jaskier stuck his head out, “I’m Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.”

“Oh,” Geralt heard that name before. “The one with all the sheep.”

Another light laugh and Jaskier nodded. “The one with all the sheep. Well, thank you for your help in escorting me across the country. I must go, take a plea deal. But be in Blaviken in a year. There’s a dear little cafe there, order me one of their chocolate twists and a cold chocolate for an 11 o’clock date. I’ll meet you there.”

Sure enough, Jaskier took a plea deal, his sentence was reduced from life to twenty-five years. How he thought he’d be in Blaviken a year on, Geralt couldn’t fathom. But once he got the chance, he sat down and did his research, to find out who exactly he had travelled with. And swallowed thickly in fear and awe. Because oh fuck, Jaskier had history and a list of kills longer than Geralt. And those were just the confirmed ones. Fuck.

Despite everything pointing towards the fact that Jaskier was in prison and with no way out, Geralt couldn’t help the small burning ball of hope in his chest. A year after the trial, he made his way to Blaviken. Even wore nicer clothes and brushed his hair - Jaskier had said it was a date after all. It felt a little silly to order for two when there was no chance his date would make it. But still, a coffee and blueberry muffin for himself, and a chocolate twist and cold chocolate for Jaskier.

Settling in the darkest corner of the cafe, Geralt sat back and waited. A shadow fell across his table and he looked up.

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood,” a familiar voice greeted him. For the first time in a long while, Geralt smiled.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #tldr: jaskier is a lazy hitman and lets geralt do all the hard work #cw: violence #hitmans bodyguard au of sorts #long post

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slayanyhivegodslately · 3 years

Text

Destcember 2021

#3 - O Captain, My Captain

Featuring Kenna, Zavala, and some mixed emotions during the Season of the Drifter alliance quest, where Kenna joins the Drifter much to her and her ghosts confusion.

Kenna walked past the ramen shop, breathing in the smells of the food being sold within. Her eyes were fixed on her feet, careful to avoid the gaze of Ikora by her usual spot by the railing. She moved at a snails pace while her mind worked overtime. She trudged up the stairs to the Courtyard, replaying what had just happened in her head. Shin Malphur? In the EDZ? She had heard of him, The Man With The Golden Gun. And Drifter had an “arrangement” with him? What did that even mean she wondered, what had she gotten herself into?

Sooner than she thought, Banshee’s deep rumble cut through her thoughts, and she found herself standing next to his shop. It shocked her how quickly she had become used to this new Tower, that she was already navigating the area on autopilot. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, but a shout from down the way stopped her. Lord Shaxx, yelling at his crucible feeds, and she heard Drifter in her head, asking her to go into crucible, kill a bunch of guardians, get Malphur’s attention. She froze, not noticing the civilians and other guardians having to move around her. Spark materialized in front of her, startling her.

“Are you ok?”

Kenna blinked a couple of times, cleared her throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m just thinking.”

Spark drooped his top point in a knowing look, and she waved him away. As he went back into her backpack, a glint of light caught her attention. Zavala, his armor shining in the midday sun. An idea formed in her mind and she made her way over to his balcony. Running some strikes for Zavala would be nice she thought, give her some time to process everything she had gotten caught up in. As she approached him, he turned in her direction at the sound of her heavy footfalls. When he saw who it was, an approving smile appeared on his face.

“Ah, Kenna. It’s good to see you. I just got word from Sloane that you helped out with a Fallen problem on Titan.”

Kenna stopped short, brain turning to static at his words. “Sir?”

Zavala stepped forward, closing the gap between them left by her sudden stop, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, she said a small group of Fallen were once again interfering with supply drops, and that you took care of them.”

She managed to find her voice. “Oh, yes. I was on Titan to gather some materials, and noticed their movement. I followed them, and took care of them when I discovered what they were up to.” She was amazed by how quickly she came up with the lie. Her gut twisted.

Zavala’s smile widened the tiniest bit, and he nodded approvingly. “Very good. It’s that quick thinking of yours that has gotten you to where you are today, it’s nice to see you’re staying sharp.”

Kenna managed a smile, his misplaced compliment making her feel uneasy. “Thank you sir.”

Zavala nodded again, smile leaving his face as he turned to business. “Right. Now, was there something you needed?”

Kenna paused for a moment, before remembering why she had come over in the first place. The two of them talked for a couple of minutes, and she got the details for a couple of potential strikes she could help out on, plus some bounties. She thanked him and walked off, headed to the hanger and her ship. That uneasy feeling in her gut still lingered. She transmated into her ship, staring at the controls in front of her without really seeing them. Spark appeared in front of her.

“You just lied.”

“Hush.”

“To ZAVALA.”

“I know!”

She put her face in her hands. Zavala, her Vanguard, the one who had taught her what it meant to be a titan. And she had lied to him. And for what? Some strange man who had showed up one day in the Bazaar, with his Gambit and his promises of power? A lot of rumors had started to fly around him after he appeared, and Kenna really didn’t know what to believe. But for some reason, a reason she had no idea where it came from, she trusted him. That was his whole thing, right? Trust? And trust she did. Spark had disapproved the second she had started getting involved with Gambit, and she wasn’t sure she could ever explain it to him. She couldn’t explain it to herself.

But for all the danger and mystery that surrounded Drifter, she did not feel in danger being around him. He very well could have done some very bad things, maybe some good ones as well. And Kenna was willing to bet that throwing in her hat with him wouldn’t turn out as bad as everyone would think.

#destiny 2 #destcember2021 #destiny guardians #zavala #my posts #my fic #this was supposed to really focus more on her relationship with zavala but it kind of got away from me but i've had this idea #pretty much ever since the quest dropped what 2 years ago?#so yeah it only kind of fits with the prompt but who cares #i wrote the thing!

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taeswurld · 3 years

Text

Ace IX [Wake Up]

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

genre: humor, romance

TW: violence, cursing, angst, fluff

Summary:

Shifting into My Hero was a total mistake, all those tiktoks you watched on a daily about shifting somehow convinced your brain to take part. Now the question is how to wake up, and most importantly, DON’T GET ATTACHED TO STUPID DRAWINGS!

A/N:

New Chappie! Enjoy Hotties! Also I didn’t edit this, so it’s probably really crappy.

{ACE MASTERLIST}

Climbing into the shower, you tried your very best to scrub off all the dirt and sweat from your body.

Also trying to scrub away any confusing thoughts.

So much was going on in that pretty little head of yours, with questions about returning home, your quirk, and just how exhausted you are.

But one thought stood out to you the most, Bakugou.

Where do could you start, well you could start anywhere you suppose.

He was so confusing, giving you pet names, staring at you longingly when he thought you weren’t looking, and being a bit more aggressive when you, Todoroki, or Midoriya interacted.

You weren’t stupid, you know the boy is definitely into you. But you didn't know how to go about it.

On one hand, you could try to rekindle your little, whatever it was, and explore those feelings.

Or, you could go with the safer option, and not act on anyone’s feelings.

He liked you, but you couldn’t return those feelings completely. And that’s not fair to him or you to explore something that isn’t even there.

You can’t lie, the boy is super attractive, anyone with eyes could see it. The problem was his attitude.

You aren’t weak, you know you could handle him if you wanted to. But you aren’t in the right headspace to get into anything. For fucks sake, you were just transported here this morning.

Hopefully, after tonight’s sleep, you could go back to your dimension, and the other you with memories could help Bakugou fix his heartache and have makeup sex or whatever.

Rinsing the shampoo out of your hair, you tried your best to not thinking about Bakugou anymore.

Not think about the way he carried you, or his smell of caramel, that cocky smirk of his, or his big strong arms, or the way he would call you princess, or-

Fuck. Okay, this clearly isn't working.

“If I don’t arrive in my dimension by tomorrow, I promise to have a nice long talk with Bakugou before class to just discuss this issue like fucking adults.” You muttered aloud.

‘Woof!’ Hiro agreed outside the shower curtain.

Standing in the water for a second, you tried to recap your crazy day to the best of your abilities.

Taking a breath, you rinse the rest of your conditioner and body wash off.

You did your little shower routine, thankfully finding all your favorite products in a cabinet by the shower.

“I didn’t know the girls here used this type of lotion, how convenient” you muttered.

Finishing up and putting on some shorts and a big shirt, you roam outside the halls, seeing if you can find your way into the common room.

“Hey Y/N!” Uraraka comes to greet you. “Did you have a nice shower?” She asks sweetly.

“Yeah, I did! Crazy how I found all the products I use at home here.” You tell her, walking your way to the couch to relax.

“Oh yeah!” Mina comes up to you. “When we first moved into the doors, U.A. supplied us with all the products we need, which is great because do you know how hard it is to maintain these curls?!” Mina yells.

“I bet it’s tiring. Your hair looks great though.” You compliment.

As you three girl make yourselves comfortable on the couch, Uraraka grabs the remote to turn on the T.V., quickly putting on a soap opera.

“Hey, dumbass. How’d your shower go?” You hear a deep voice behind you ask.

You turn to look at the very same man who pretty much took over your shower thoughts, Bakugou.

“Yeah it was fine. Why do you ask?” You say, raising an eyebrow to his question.

“It was just a fucking question. Wanted to make sure your stupid ass didn’t fall and break your arm in the shower.” He mutters grumpily, with a small blush on his face at the thought of caring about you.

“Well I’m here right? Uninjured?” You tease him.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. You-”

“Wake up.”

You both stop your conversation to look at the T.V.

The soap opera Uraraka had on seemed to have lost it’s connection, turning into static, before changing into an image of an eye.

“Wake up, Y/N.” The audio from the T.V. said.

As the eye took its first blink, you heard a loud ringing in your ear, giving you a feeling so painful and scary, your body paralyzes itself.

“Y/N, your ears are bleeding...” Mina turns to look at you with a horrified expression her face.

You couldn’t move, you stood there with your ears bleeding, your head ringing, and your eyes wide open.

Bakugou jumps over the couch to grab you.

“Hey! Wake up Y/N! Come on baby, tell me what’s going on.” He yells into your face, shaking your shoulders to wake you up.

“Turn that shit on the T.V. off” Midoriya yells at anyone.

“I’m pressing the power button! It’s not working!” Uraraka cries.

“Wake up Y/N.” The eye blinks again.

“Denki!” Midoriya screams.

“On it!” He yells. Sending a voltage to the television to fry it.

“Wake up Y-”

Everything goes silent, before you pass out for the second time that day.

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soft-levi-girl-blog

ladymidnight77

#bakugou katuski x reader #myhero #my hero academia x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha ochaco uraraka #izuku midoriya #denki kaminari #shouto todoroki #Ochako Uraraka #eijiro kirishima #mina ashido #tenya iida #boku no hero academia #ace #anime #bakugo katuski #Katsuki Bakugō #my hero academia #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #x reader #yn

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peachyybunni · 3 years

Text

Han was a fanboy, I mean anyone would be! His idol crush was hot and cold literally his personality, as soon as Han awoke from his nap- a loud ding was heard- a vlive notification- he reached over quickly and let out a small excited squeak! “FINALLY!!” and without a doubt the idol, lee know, smiled as Han was the first in the room saying hi like normal complimenting the idol, who in return smiled and got on his phone “thank you..” he said which threw Han off, and in the chat he said

“Me did you just- yk answer me..”

Minho laughed and smiled “yes I did” AND HAN LOST IT! Screaming into his pillow and sobbing with joy, finally being noticed happy he wasn’t talking to the other stays- what Han didn’t know was that Minho loved reading his comments, yeah sure he had stays who serenade him with the borderline same compliments but this user ‘quokka_.Han’ made his day for some unknown reason

“HANNIE GET UP go shopping for me!!” “Okay eomma!!!” And he placed a quick chat to Minho in the chat box

“Goodbye Minho good luck!!FIGHTING I’ll watch the live after I’m done shopping”

Minho had waved bye with a frown and watched the clock; after about a hour of doing this he ended the live ‘I need to shop too..get the cats their food..’ and soon he got dressed heading to the downtown shopping center and entered the quiet grocery store

Han steered the cart stopping occasionally and picking things up and lightly he felt a bump on his back and he turned seeing a guy bent down “e-excuse me your cart bumped into me…” the man looked up eyebrow raised as he fixed his mask “sorry..” Han took note of the guys attire and gave a compliment “do you like the idol lee know too, that’s one of his jacket he has did you recreate it, it looks super good??..” the man looked at the smaller and shook his head “no…this is mine..” and Hans eyes widened “y-y-“ and a loud buzzing is heard and he picked his phone up, “hell-“ “HAN JISUNG HURRY HOME IM WORRIED SICK!! It doesn’t take you a hour or more to pick up some groceries!!” “S-sorry eomma I’m coming home now” and Han nodded leaving

Minho was stuck that night in his thoughts..the kid knew his jacket..it’s weird right and he sighed, Lowkey bored outta his mind “imma text that quokka guy” he said aloud Dori looking at him and sighing, “I wonder- A HA!” he tapped the guys Instagram and sent a message

‘Hey’

Quokka_.han

Omg! Hi um wow hi!😳

Hey! So I have a question

Yeah? What is it?🥺

We’re you the one

Who asked about my

Jacket today at

That grocery store?

*seen* 11:23

Minho knew the answer it was Han who said something but he wasn’t gonna let that slip.

Han ignored his texts that blew up his phone. he laid down shocked, scared, and embarrassed and he frowned, he couldn’t sleep though…so he got up grabbed his coat and left for a walk silently, his mind wondered as he bumped into someone falling on his butt and he looked up huffing “he-…Minho?” The man looked down helping the smaller up “yes are you a fan?” Han simply nodded “how are you” his cheeks burned from the crazy blush on his face “a little mad that you ignored me, then decided to bump into me.” Looking up his brain went to tv static and his words lost in his throat,,”I-I..how-“ “you have your pics on your Instagram.” he blushed more and pouted biting his lip “I’m…uh…why are you out on a walk?” he looked anywhere that wasn’t Minho, who stared at him smirking “so I wouldn’t scream at you over text for ignoring me, I had no idea you’d be out walking too though…would you like some tea..” Minho offered and Han nodded looking down “cmon.” And Minho grabbed ahold of Hans thin waist as they walked to his house “I- I can’t be here..” he turned to leave. the stronger of the two held him there and he smiled “it’s just tea then you can leave this is a one and only chance” Han nodded giving up “just don’t drug or murder me..” he said laughing some and Minho rolled his eyes “I can’t even if I wanted to” Han sat on the sofa shaking and Minho smiles and pats his shoulder “calm down” and he does slowly sipping the delicious tea that Minho prepared for the two of them. he doesn’t realize how late he stayed till the morning sun Rose and he was cuddled into Minho who was laying with him, cuddling him, and playing with his hair and without looking Minho mumble a low “your so cute” as he smiled down at the ‘sleeping’ han. And from then on the relationship between them grew…from just a fan and his crush on a idol but to. boyfriend and his idol boyfriend they now shared the apartment together and Han was in bliss seeing Minho everyday and being able to kiss him and hug him made his heart whole

‘I really live the y/n life huh’

He thought to his self chuckling as he sat up in bed seeing the bruises on Minho’s neck and the slight scratches on his shoulder blades. Blushing hard and looking away no doubt he looked worse than Minho- speaking of the devil he crawled on the bed over to Han and grabbed his head kissing him roughly and Han sighs into it. dragging Minho down “stay home” he mumbles pecking Minho over and over “I can’t baby you know this I gotta practice” Han unconsciously traced the hickeys on Minho’s neck and smiled Minho smirking and kissing Han “I guess I can stay for a few more minutes.” “Ohhh baby~” Han said his signature line and smiled.

﹤⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹡⊹﹡⳾ ⳾ ⳾ ⳾﹥

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

~note- I pulled this outta my ass 😭🤚🏻 I had no idea what I was doing with this but I guess enjoy sorry if it’s shit LMFAO!!

#minsung #han jisung #lee know #fanfic #kpop idol #stray kids

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zwritestuff · 3 years

Text

Some Things Are Bound To Be (Kyara) - Epilogue

A/N: This is it homies. We've made it. I'm sorry it took me so long to post the epilogue, I hit writers block and tbh didn't want to let go of this fic. I tried to make the epilogue longer, but at the end of the day I don't think that's necessary. A big thanks to Emerald for being my biggest supporter during this ride and beta-ing every single chapter. Also, a huge thanks to the people that stuck around even after the season finished, I treasure all of you 💕 I have thought of a sequel focused on another ship that didn't get to shine here, but it's still a thought. I hope you all enjoy the epilogue. 💕

Find the rest of the chapters here | Read on ao3.

Kyne has no idea why she’s so sweaty.

Under normal circumstances, she’d be annoyed. Instead, she has Priyanka talking her ear off on one side, giving her one of her usual pep talks, while Bobo on the other is trying to get her eyeliner as sleek as possible. Bo has her head in her wardrobe, criticizing each and every clothing item she owns. That would gain a hundred eye-rolls from her—but then again, these are no normal circumstances.

She’s had dates before, despite what Priyanka might try to say, it’s just that they were never all that exciting. She was lucky if she was interested enough in someone to accept to go on a second date, and third dates were unheard of for her.

The fact she’s this nervous over her first real date with Kiara should be a surprise, considering she still swings by her office every day, coffee and cupcakes in tow, they still go out for lunch almost every day, they’ve been together just yesterday at work, not even 24 hours ago; but still, she can’t help the anticipation welling up inside her—it’s one thing to grab lunch together, to have movie nights and stay over at each other’s places when they think it’s completely platonic; but once they acknowledge the feelings meddling in the middle, it becomes harder to keep their cool.

It’s just a date with Kiki, she thinks, trying to keep her calm. It’s just Kiki, she repeats it like a mantra, because it’s really not that deep. She knows how to talk to Kiara, how to get out of her those throaty laughs that echo through the room and make her eyes crinkle at the corners. It shouldn’t be all that different from their usual “dates.”

Then again, if that’s the case, why does she feel like her brain has been replaced with TV static once the time for Kiara to pick her up arrives?

Kyne’s going to dig a hole through the carpet pacing back and forth. She doesn’t think she was ever this nervous, not even during her final exam to graduate.

“Don’t stress too much about it,” Scarlett yells out from the bathroom, possibly—definitely—smoking against the window. “She already looks at you like she wants to propose every time you open your mouth, a date can’t be all that bad.” Kyne’s cheeks heat up, not even bothering to yell out anything because she’s too busy chewing on her nails while she waits for a text from Kiara.

And then it comes through.

‘I’m parking, I’ll be up in a second,’ followed by a red heart. Kyne smiles unconsciously as she grabs her purse and jacket, and turns to Priyanka and Bo sitting on her couch, intently looking at her.

“Right. So, you two keep your hands out of my fridge, don’t let Bobo stain the whole place with smoke, and for the love of god, don’t blow up my phone every ten minutes,” she says, like she’s a single mother giving her children instruction before going out on her first date in years. She stops to wonder why she ever allowed them in in the first place, but considering Priyanka has a spare key, they probably would’ve entered anyway.

They nod with childish grins, and Kyne paces around for a little while before there’s a knock on the door and she nearly jumps out of her skin.

It’s just a date, she thinks one last time.

Then she opens the door, and she feels her cool fade away the moment she sees Kiara’s smile.

“Hey,” they say at the same time, eliciting a chuckle from the other.

“You look really nice,” Kiara offers as a compliment, the smile on her face never faltering. Kyne opens her mouth to return the compliment, when she hears Priyanka and Bo snicker behind her back, making Kiara cock a brow and look past the door. “Ah, nice seeing you guys,” she says awkwardly, waving at them.

“Looking good, Kiki. Have fun, don’t make stupid decisions again,” Priyanka calls out as Kyne shuts the door behind her, mumbling apologies about her friends as they walk to the elevator.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, Rita and Tynomi came over to bother me before I left, too. I get it.” She rolls her eyes, scoffing with an amused smile, and Kyne feels the nerves melt away as she laughs, hooking an arm around Kiara’s biceps, letting her head fall against her arm.

“I have no idea why I ever thought giving Priyanka a spare key would be a good idea,” Kyne comments, chuckling slightly as Kiara recalls that one time she gave Tynomi her apartment keys so she could water her plants while she was away, and she has yet to return the keys.

Kyne makes a comment about not having noticed Kiara’s plants in all the times she visited, and Kiara just shrugs with an embarrassed expression. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause I don’t have any right now—I don’t have a green thumb like you, y’know? My plants always end up dead one way or another,” she admits, as the elevator opens its doors and they step outside.

“I can help you grow some stuff, I think we have plenty of time ahead of us for that,” she comments, meaning it, but Kiara has that shit-eating grin on her face that makes Kyne roll her eyes right away.

“How are we going to grow a garden in just a few hours?” She asks, leaning in on Kyne, and she’s feeling generous tonight, so she doesn’t shove her off, saying how corny she is; she just scoffs and softly headbutts her.

“You know what I meant, dumbass,” Kyne says, the affection in her tone palpable despite the name calling. Kiara doesn’t seem to mind; she smiles cheerily as she opens the car door for her, and Kyne dreads the moment their hands let go, if only for a couple of seconds.

“I know, I know,” Kiara chuckles after a moment, fastening her seatbelt so the annoying beep will stop. She turns to look at Kyne with a smile as she turns on the engine, “I’d love to have a garden with you, babe,” she says, with a tone so soft Kyne can tell she means it. She gets the car going, searching for Kyne’s hand almost right away, giving it a small squeeze before lacing them together.

She’s not sure if it’s the fact she hasn’t had a proper date in a long time, that she’s waited a long time to be like this with Kiara, or just that all of this seems straight out of a romantic movie, one she thought she’s never get to live herself—but she feels like a teenager in love all over again, wanting to dive head first into what she has going on with Kiara without a helmet, because she knows she’ll be there to catch her when she falls.

A week after their first date, Kyne gives Kiara a pot of dahlias, and promises to help her not let them die. If Kiara catches the symbolism behind it, she doesn’t say anything, just gives Kyne a kiss and promises to take great care of them.

Red camellias come next, some weeks after the dahlias, when Kyne thinks Kiara is doing a good job with them. Then, a small arrangement of orchids—Kiara notices the pattern at some point, and just smiles and kisses her forehead when Kyne brings her a new plant.

The dates keep on coming, and so do the flowers and indoor plants; Kiara eventually runs out of space to put them. Kyne isn’t of much help, either, since her place is small and barely fits her own plants.

“It’s not fair,” Kiara childishly complains one day, while Kyne’s staying over. They’re cuddled up on the couch, not paying attention to whatever it is that Kiara randomly selected from Netflix’s catalog. “A flower shop opened around the block, do you know how much I have to contain myself to not enter and buy everything when I ride past it to work?” She pouts, adding a vocal fry to really get her point across.

Kyne just laughs, amused at her girlfriend’s antics, while five different types of flowers hang from the sides of the TV. Maybe getting her into gardening wasn’t such a good idea.

“If space was really the problem, you’d be throwing out stuff to bring in more plants,” Kyne comments, not really giving it much more than a second thought.

But Kiara bites her lip, fidgets with her fingers for a little while, and avoids Kyne’s gaze for a solid minute. Kyne knows that demeanor all too well.

“No, yeah, I know. But, like, I dunno, I’ve been thinking about moving somewhere else, somewhere bigger, obviously, where the sun actually can come through and I don’t have to haul a bunch of plants in the same five spots,” she explains, stammering over her words, visibly nervous. Kyne prompts her to go on, knowing there’s more to it. Kiara breathes in hard, looking at her straight in the eyes. “And - and I want to live with you, too.”

The world seems to stop during the seconds it takes Kyne to process what she just said.

When it dawns on her, the sun seems warmer, birds are chirping and the flowers are in full bloom—even if they’re in the middle of winter and there are no birds in the city. That’s just what love does, she suposes.

“I’d love to move in with you,” she says softly, pulling her in for a hug, and Kiara breathes out a long sigh of relief.

She’s ready to plant a long-lasting garden with Kiara.

#fake dating au #some things are bound to be fic #kyara #kyne #online kyne #kiara schatzi #rpdr fanfiction #my fanfiction

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chocochar · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could you write a one shot where Hawks takes out his secretary, whom he has a massive crush on, out to a fancy dinner? They think it’s all for business but later it’s revealed Hawks took them out on a date. Pls and thank you!

(AN: I’m SO SORRY this took so long! I had it started for a while but my brain was radio static TuT But it’s dooone, hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!)

"Come oooon, (F/n), don't make me beg~" Hawks already is begging, and (F/n) sighs as she fixes the papers on her desk. For the last week now this birdbrain has bothered her every day to go to this new restaurant with him. They supposedly have incredible food, especially their chicken and seafood, and for some reason she was his choice to take there.

Being the secretary of the no. 2 hero, for the most part, is fine. She comes to work, gets the jobs she has done, then goes home. At least at first, but working for him for a few months now there's definitely been a shift; he's more attentive when it comes to her, even if it's a typically boring discussion about a job he did, his eyes never leave her and he's always got the grin on his handsome face. He also seems to listen more, like when she told him to pay more attention to his own health in a fight last week he's had fewer injuries they'd need to take care of. Which means less stress for her.

If she didn't know any better she'd assume he has a crush on her, but that's a silly thought right? She's just looking too into it.

"Takami-san, I've told you more than once I'm not going. Why don't you ask one of your sidekicks?" She asks, turning to face him.

"Cause I asked you, that's why," he pouts slightly, before continuing,"C'mon, it'll be fun, I'll pay for everything! I wanna take you out, pleeease?"

"Why are you so persistant?" she asks the younger hero, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Cause I like you," he grins, (F/n) jolting and looking at him in surprise. No, no why is she getting so shocked over hearing that? There's no hidden meaning behind it! Shaking her head she finishes tidying up her desk and goes to pass him when his arm is suddenly blocking her way. He's leaning against the wall, palm pressed against it, and throwing the puppy dog eyes her way. "Please, (F/n)?"

She narrows her eyes, ready to throw out another 'no', but sighs,"Fine, fine, I'll go."

He smiles brightly and holds up two thumbs up, saying,"I knew you'd give in eventually! You're off Saturday, right? I'll swoop on over to your house and pick you up around 6 or 7, is that good for you?"

She nods, and it's set, the woman watching him go before she leaves the agency. 'Why did I agree?? Damn him and those puppy dog eyes! This kid is going to be the death of me.' she thinks while rubbing her neck, pulling out her phone and putting it into her calendar.

[X][X][X]

Saturday comes and (F/n) dresses up in nice, formal clothes. She puts on some makeup, does her hair, and checks herself in the mirror; does she look too done up for this? After all, it is just dinner with Hawks.

'He'll probably tease me or something about looking so nice while he's in his hero outfit or something casual,' she thinks, debating on changing or not. But she doesn't get the chance to decide when a knock comes at her front door and she hurries to it. Opening it she's surprised to find Hawks here already, as well as carrying a rose and actually looking... nice! She nearly rubs her eyes to make sure she isn't seeing things. He's in a loose fitting suit that he pulls off really well, his hair looks a little more styled, and he looks like he's blushing lightly looking her over.

"Wow, (F/n), I was coming ready to get you to change but you look nice," he smiles. He hands her the flower and she thanks him taking it, walking inside letting him come in as she goes to find a vase or cup to put water into for the plant.

"I think I'm even more shocked, Takami-kun," she replies, coming back after getting the rose in water. "You look very handsome though."

He grins while his cheeks turn redder, scratching the back of his head, saying,"Awww, really?? You always know what to say, (F/n).~" Checking the time he asks,"So, ya ready then?"

"Sure," she replies leaving her apartment with him before locking the door. She looks around below in the parking lot but doesn't see any unfamiliar or new cars, so she asks,"Uh, where's your-"

"Oh we're not driving," he answers before she's suddenly lifted into his arms,"I thought you'd prefer to see the sights so we're taking to the skies.~"

"W-Wait what??" she asks with wide eyes; her arms wrap tight around his neck as his wings unfurl and they take a large leap into the air. She goes to scream burying her face in his jacket, but goes quiet when wind starts whipping at her arms and hair. Peeking she's shocked to find they're already quite high above the buildings, the growing night giving them more cover as they fly. He's not zooming around, fortunately, he seems to be taking it slow probably so she doesn't panic, and his arms have a tight hold under her back and knees so she feels more secure. She's still terrified but is slowly calming down admiring all the lights below as well as the parks they soar over. He grins seeing the entranced gaze she has and asks,"Never seen anything like it, huh?"

"No, it's... It's beautiful," she replies, smiling herself. It's odd what's going on, but she won't complain.

"Yeah, sure is," he sighs, his eyes lingering on her before he focuses ahead of them as they get close to the restaurant.

He starts to glide down until reaching the sidewalk and landing on both feet his wings close and he places (F/n) back on her own legs. She holds onto his shoulder for a moment, her limbs feeling like jelly, before shaking off the feeling and letting him go before looking at the place. It's really nice on the outside, and she can smell the food from out here, it smells delicious! She looked up reviews before coming, all positive about the atmosphere and delicacies... Is he really okay bringing her to a place like this? This is more of a place couples come to right?

Shrugging that off she follows Hawks to the entrance double doors and stops when he opens the door and says in a charming way,"Ladies first.~"

Rolling her eyes she smiles and replies,"Thank you." before walking in. It certainly is exquisite, definitely not a place she could afford on her own. She actually turns to the bird hero and asks,"Takami, are you sure about this? I don't know if I can afford it."

He gives her a puzzled look before waving her off. "Don't worry, (F/n), I'm paying for everything."

She wants to tell him that that wouldn't be appropriate but already a welcomer comes up to the duo and whisks them off to a table before she can get a word in. It's an especially nice looking set up too, and as they pass by seated patrons she takes note of their appearances; from the pricey looking outfits to the jewelery that twinkles under the lights she feels slightly out of place.

Sitting across from her boss the secretary can't stop looking over everything, and he laughs at how almost childlike it is.

"If I knew you'd be reacting this cute I'd have taken you somewhere like this sooner," he grins and she turns back to him with pink cheeks. "Although this time I wasn't rejected, meaning I could finally see it.~"

"T-Takami," she mumbles, pushing some (hair color) locks behind her ear while willing away the growing blush on her cheeks. "Are you sure this is okay? I mean, I couldn't possibly ask you to-"

He holds a hand up and presses a finger to his lips, her mouth closing while he retorts,"I already planned this out, (F/n), I couldn't possibly expect you to pay, right? That wouldn't be very gentlemanly." He smiles sweetly at her and she feels her heart thump louder in her chest. Clearing her throat she nods, opening the menu... And nearly leaving the moment she saw the prices. The only thing stopping her is his wing and him assuring her it's fine.

[X][X][X]

After the two order they get to talking, a lot of it being Hawks asking her about more personal things like her hobbies, what she does after work, does she like this or this, and (F/n) answers truthfully although she thinks,'I don't quite get what's going on, I thought this was just going to be for business mostly but it feels more personal...' Their hands have brushed more than once and he keeps complimenting her making her flustered.

Taking a sip of her water she changes the subject and asks,"So, are you alright after that fight the other day? Your wings look much better."

"We handled it just fine, did you have your doubts?" he teases.

"I just worry for you, Takami, I care about you," she honestly answers. He's a little surprised hearing this and he feels his cheeks turning warm as he brings up a hand to try to hide it. She cocks a brow, asking,"Are you okay, Takami?"

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine," he tries to play it off but this woman... She always seems to make him weak like this.

Originally he hired her because she seemed to know what she was doing and has done her job well every step of the way, but over the months they've been working together he started to notice small things like the way she bites her pen when stumped on work, or will nibble her lip when thinking. Slowly he started noticing more and more things, and before he knew it he realized he grew feelings. Even tonight she looks adorable! And he finally managed to score a date with her, so he wanted to make it all special.

She gives him a soft smile and says,"Alright, well anyways, I'll always have faith in you, Takami, even if I worry and scold you."

He returns the smile and decides to say,"You know, you don't have to call me Takami."

She looks confused now, and he continues,"Just call me Keigo." She blinks in slight surprise; that's odd to say. After all, 'Keigo' would be rather personal right??

"Um... I suppose, but would that be okay, I mean-"

She can't finish as their food is brought and Hawks' eyes light up with anticipation as his dish of chicken is placed in front of him. (F/n) also almost starts drooling at the smells alone. She takes a bite, and melts right away. No wonder this place is so well received! Looking at the hero in front of her he's already started eating, the sight of him looking so happy causing her to giggle at the faces he's making. His golden eyes move to look at her as he stops, and she laughs,"Sorry, sorry, you're acting really... It's cute!"

His face erupts in red at this and he lifts some of the chicken on a fork up to her mouth. She calms down and eyes the food puzzled.

"Here, try, it's pretty good," he grins and now it's her turn to go red in the face. He's feeding it to her?? It's such a simple gesture but her racing heart won't shut up! She also realizes he's taken a bite from it...

"N-No, I'm fine," she tries to tell him, holding up her hands and waving them in front of her.

"Aww, c'mon, (F/n), it's not going to bite," he teases playfully, and she swallows looking at the fork. Everything about this is way too strange, although this whole night has had a series of odd moments. Biting her lip she decides to do it, leaning forward and biting into it. It's really good, but she's having trouble focusing on the food when he finishes it off. Swallowing it down she keeps eating but has trouble focusing.

It goes quiet between the duo and Hawks catches on pretty quickly as his eyes lift to find her staring at her plate, lost in thought with furrowed brows. He stops and asks,"Uh, (F/n), you okay?" When she doesn't answer he lifts a hand to wave in front of her face and says,"Earth to (F/n), hello? You still with me?"

"Takami, if it isn't too strange to ask, why did you want to bring me here?"

Hawks freezes, appearing puzzled and pulling his hand back.

"What do you mean? Isn't it obvious?" he asks tilting his head, to which her response is a shake of the head. Wait is she being serious here? "Really? I thought it was pretty out in the open but do I gotta say it?"

"Yes, because truthfully I've been confused, isn't this just a sort of business dinner or something?" she asks with an (adorably) confused expression.

He on the other hand stares at her in an almost incredulous way. This... Cute, blind idiot.

"(F/n), I was taking you on a date," he finally answers. (F/n) goes wide eyed once she realizes what he said. 'A d-date?! I-Is that even appropriate?!' Technically yes, there's no laws saying they can't date each other, but... "That's why I got the flowers and got all dressed up, I was trying to make a good impression."

"B-But wait, why?! How long have you...??" she asks in a flustered way, her face red.

He scratches the back of his head while he replies,"Liked you? I'd say 2 months, maybe? I thought I was being pretty obvious, I wasn't being subtle with my flirting, (F/n)." Seeing how shocked she is, how much her blush has grown, he teases,"See, how can I not go for you when you're acting so adorable?~"

Her heart won't let up and she hides her face in her hands, groaning,"I had no idea... Hawks, why tell me now?..." Her reaction causes his smile to lower and he rubs his neck.

"Is this too uncomfortable?" He asks, which causes her to lift her head to look at him; his expression is a dejected one as he averts his eyes, his smile now more sad as he chuckles,"Maybe I flew too close to the sun, right? I was hoping I'd finally win you over with this but maybe I was expecting too much, huh?" He meets her eyes finally and finishes,"Sorry, (F/n). If you want I'll take you home."

She's silent staring at the hero, unable to find the words. The look he has her pounding heart starts to ache; sure she's shocked by this, but she wouldn't say she's uncomfortable, this was just unexpected. He did seem to pull out the stops, too, and hearing him sound so sad fills a guilty hole in her gut. She's noticed the flirting, she's noticed his watching her more often than before, she just never put the pieces together until hearing it from his own mouth. If she'd known this was a date...

After taking a few moments to think it all over she shakes her head, and responds,"No, Takami, it's okay, really! I'm not uncomfortable being here, to be honest you've been quite the gentleman." She smiles and his cheeks turn pink. "I'm more just really surprised, but... I suppose finishing this date won't hurt, especially now knowing that's what it is."

He eyes her, asking,"Are you sure?" She gives him a warm look and he slowly smiles back.

"Well if you're okay then let's eat.~"

[X][X][X]

The dinner ends and the two leave full and content. After they walk out (F/n) is swept off her feet again and looping her arms around the bird hero's neck she holds tight, still not used to flying.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just drive??" She asks as they drift through the air.

"And miss the best part of the night? Just hold onto me, I won't let you fall," he assures the nervous secretary. She nods and does just that, her arms holding a lock on him while her eyes glide over all the lights below. She's so lost in the sights she misses them heading towards a tall building's roof until they land and he sets her on her feet. He keeps a hold on her as she gains her own footing, and when (F/n) looks ahead she's mesmerized by the sights. Hawks smiles seeing the way her (eye color) orbs light up and still not moving his hand off her side he asks,"Pretty, right? That's one thing I love about being able to fly, at night I get a front row seat to see things like this."

"It must be nice," she replies with a grin, before realizing his hand is still on her. She's still slightly worried about going into this type of relationship with him, after all he's her boss, but over dinner she'd been thinking it over, and she made her decision. "Keigo."

He looks at her in surprise and she smiles warmly and says,"Thank you for tonight. I'm a bit hesitant, I'll admit, to start a relationship but... If it's you I suppose I can make an exception.~"

Hawks is even more taken back, his eyes widening and for once he's speechless, before he grows a happy grin and he asks,"So there's a possibility to make you Mrs. Takami, too, right?~"

"Wait what-" she asks with shock but she's silenced when he suddenly kisses her. It's a short, sweet, yet still deep kiss and she almost melts into it before he pulls back. His smile becomes more charming and he chuckles,"Just kidding, for now we'll just be two turtle doves, but I'll get you to say yes one day, just wait.~"

Her face is red and hot and she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before she looks at him with a smile of her own and replies,"We'll see what happens, Keigo.~"

"I'm not hearing a no," he practically coos and shaking her head she pulls hims close and pecks his lips.

"We'll see, birdbrain.~"

#hawks x reader #hawks bnha #hawks mha #hawks fanfiction #hawks x secretary reader

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petals42 · 5 years

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Coach - Part V

Hello all. I know in my major fics I’ve made Coach and Suzanne not very nice people, but after the latest updates I figured I’d try my hand at writing canon-compliant Coach. This is in his POV so obviously Coach-centric and he is not magically a perfect ally. He’s trying though.

3.6k; canon-compliant; content warning: homophobia; post- Coach IV

It’s Sunday. Which means Church for Suzanne always and Church for Richard when he has the time. Or about every three weeks when Suzanne starts asking him on Thursday whether he is going to make it this week instead of waiting til the morning-of. It’s his signal to go with her so she can show him off or introduce him to new folks or just re-establish that they are together and happy and she can still make him go to Church whenever she wants.

Either way, it’s not bad. He doesn’t mind listening to the sermons, even if he’s not quite sure how much stock he puts in all of this, and the music is good enough, even if he’s not one for singing himself.

He doesn’t even mind the post-Church chitchat. In the fall and winter, the traditional spread of baked goods made by the women of the Church is usually served in the small auditorium. It’s cold when you first walk in and then all the bodies heat it up so that by the end Suzanne will be complaining that if they don’t want to put the AC on, they could just open a window or something.

Richard knows his role in this too. He stands off to the side with his plateful of baked goods, making sure to take the ones baked by Suzanne’s friends and avoid the ones made by anyone his wife is currently feuding with. He chats with some folk who wander over, always polite, but mostly people know him well enough to let him be and wait for Suzanne to finish talking with everyone.

They have a good system. They walk through the line of food together which is when he puts on his best smile. Then he goes to a corner, she claims she has to use the restroom but takes her plate with her and stops to mill and chat with everyone on the way to the bathroom. She’ll finish her plate before she gets to the bathroom, throw it away, and then talk to many of the same people on her way back. He’ll wait and watch and when she starts looking a little tight around the eyes or flexes her left hand in that certain way, that’s when he’ll walk up and ask if she minds leaving. She’ll say of course, they will make their goodbyes, and that’s that.

Sunday morning.

Usually his time in the corner is almost meditative. He lets his eyes unfocus and eats just steadily enough that people can see he is eating and lets his mind drift. It may be a weird place to meditate, in a room filled with other adults, but it works for him. Coaching is a loud job, filled with the noise of teenagers and yelling and grunts and sounds just of working in a high school, really. And then Suzanne is not loud in the same way and he loves listening to her (for as little as he inputs, really he does), but she’s not a still person. She’s light and movement and laughter and she fills up a room enough that usually he is content to just bask in her presence. It’s more joyful than meditative.

This, though. This is just right. His brain is already a little fuzzy from spacing out during the sermon and he’s bored enough that usually he would pull out his phone, but standing and relaxing in a corner is fine. Playing on your phone in a corner is rude. According to Suzanne. And he doesn’t disagree. So he’s a little bored, unable to do anything to fix that boredom, happy to turn the chitchat around him into a sort of gray static he doesn’t have to pay attention to and just… relax.

Of course, this week relaxing is a bit difficult.

He’d been busy in the week he’d gotten back from Samwell. He had booked that flight a bit last minute so it was fly out late, late on Tuesday and then leave Thursday midday to try to make it back for Thursday’s practice because he was the head coach of a football team and, goodness Junior better make it late in the playoffs when there is plenty of time for him to actually go up and see more of the games.

So it was practice and then cram all the strategy and tape he was supposed to do Tuesday and Wednesday into Friday and game Saturday (a win, but a sloppy one if he is being honest) and it is now, Sunday, as he stands and watches people try to eat while holding a small paper plate filled with too much food, that he is finally able to think about it all.

About the car ride and Junior telling him that he wasn’t acknowledging his relationship and getting upset and telling him that he needed to know he wasn’t messed up, like Richard would ever think he was messed up but the fact that Junior had to even ask was--

He blows out a breath. Not angry just… annoyed. At himself. And maybe a little but at Junior even though he shouldn’t be and he isn’t, he just--

Sometimes he feels he never got credit for the things he did do. He paid for all those ice dancing lessons even though he didn’t understood a bit of it. And then when it became obvious Junior was good, he paid for that private coach and went online to learn at least some of the terms even though he was never going to be able to give Junior any actual advice on anything. Which had… well, he could at least admit that that had been a bit of a disappointment. He loved teaching and coaching and yes, see, don’t rely on your elbow so much. Power’s in your shoulder-- there you go, feel the difference? He loved being a coach. But with Junior and ice skating… he looked up enough to sometimes manage a weak Remember to pull your arms tight and Junior would look up at him and smile and nod when he was little but he got older and better and eventually he had to stop trying. Because Junior was more advanced than any of the little tips he could find and he had that private coach to tell him what he was actually doing wrong and he didn’t want to look like a fool and certainly didn’t want Junior to get annoyed with him so…

He’d moved too. He and Suzanne. Packed up their house and he’d gotten a new job away from the kids he’d been coaching for years and they never talked about it with Junior, never wanted him to feel like it was his fault but his son wasn’t stupid. He would’ve thought that he made the connection between the bullying and the change of scenery, as it were.

And then there was hockey, another sport for him to learn enough so he could at least understand what was going on and offer tentative tips, and Samwell and taking out a loan to cover what Junior’s scholarship didn’t and flying up to see at least some of the games and he’s tried to keep things as normal as possible after Jack. Tried to make it obvious that nothing had changed. That he viewed his son exactly the same. But even that hadn’t been enough.

He looks down where he’s holding his paper plate filled with post-Church snacks and realizes he’s crumpling it. But he can’t quite get his hand to loosen. Kids these days. And even thinking that made him feel old but it was true. Kids these days want everything spoken aloud, everything talked about, all mushy, like actions don’t count for anything anymore. It just-- he could count on one hand the number of times his daddy had ever said anything like “I love you” or “I’m proud of you” but he still knew it was true. Of course he knew. His father attended as many of his football games as he could and shook his hand on his wedding day, offered him a cigar when Eric was born...

And, really, he thought he had been being pretty obvious. Right after the Cup, he had started talking about Jack’s goal and his great game and congratulating him and he thought that was clear enough. That if Jack was important to Junior, than he would care about Jack’s sport as much as he could. And then he flew up to see Junior on a week where he could see Junior’s game and they could watch Jack’s game together too. Sure, he referred to Jack as Junior’s friend, but he… he didn’t know if boyfriend was the right word or if they were using partner and, okay, okay maybe it was easier to say “friend”, at least at first. Which, okay, was wrong. But also Junior didn’t even seem to hear the rest of what he was saying. He had gone up there and complimented Jack and Jack’s team and how Jack and Junior worked together and had thought he was being obvious about starting to invite Jack over for Christmas and somehow Junior still ended up yelling at him in the car.

His mouth twists at that. That had been… not good. Not only because Junior had been hurt and crying, but because he’d been angry and yelled and he was pretty sure he mentioned that he had had to find out through the TV, like some stranger and he…

You weren’t supposed to tell your kids when they hurt your feelings. He knows that. He’s… he’s not allowed to get his feelings hurt, anyway, from the sounds of it. From the reading he’s done in the days he’s been back. The internet says that coming out is a personal thing and everyone makes their own decision and, according to most websites, it’s probably his fault. His and Suzanne’s for not being more openly supportive of people when Junior was growing up. For making him feel like he couldn’t tell them. And he doesn’t-- well, he doesn’t remember ever saying anything blatantly rude like that, he figures he’s usually a live and let live type, but apparently all those little things-- microaggressions, the internet calls ‘em-- apparently those add up.

So, again, his fault.

He shifts and swings his head to find Suzanne. It only takes him a moment; his eyes are long used to flicked through a crowd to find someone just her size with that specific hair color. She’s laughing, chatting with Ruby, and from the looks of it, he’s still got a while. Which is fine. He could go find one of the guys to chat with and, as the local football coach, there’s plenty of chatting he could do but he--

He looks as Suzanne and wonders instead. If her feelings are still a little hurt by Junior’s way of telling them. If she feels old and forgotten and replaced by all those friends he’s got up at college. The ones who knew first.

He pops a cookie in his mouth. Feels his stomach twist up as his mind flashes once again to that dumb car ride. And really, how was he supposed to know Junior even cared about his opinion anymore? He had all those friends and Jack and all the Falconers who all spoke out about it afterwards and there had been pictures with Jack’s parents who were there and clearly knew and Eric hadn’t even called them after. Not for hours and hours.

He can’t help but think it wasn’t right. Suzanne had been beside herself with worry and called him over and over and Richard thought he was pretty okay, but he didn’t like when someone hurt Suzanne. Especially not Junior. Those two talked nearly every day, it seemed to him, and it was a hell of a time for his son to suddenly be so irresponsible with his mama’s feelings.

He takes a breath. Lets it go. Those two have clearly made up and there’s no point in fighting someone else’s battle especially if they didn’t seem too torn up about it anymore.

He wishes he had remembered that during the car ride. That he was better at not reacting with anger sometimes. At not getting all defensive. Then maybe the car ride would’ve gone smoother. Maybe that whole mess could have been avoided. And he wouldn’t still feel so embarrassed and guilty about it even though he thinks that maybe he’d finally gotten the message through on his way to the airport.

Yes, thank God, at least that went well. He’s pretty sure. So Junior’s good with Suanne and good with him and Jack is coming down for Christmas so that’s that.

To be honest, he isn’t quite sure what to do next. Junior seems to watch him to talk and ask about Jack, but the internet said to treat the relationship just like any other and he isn’t sure he had been planning on talking to Junior much about girls except for maybe a quick check that they were being safe and he was being honorable and perhaps a “Is she expecting a ring?” or “Seems about time you went out and got one” talk. That’s about all he and his daddy had done.

Other things he’s doing now-- reading up about things on the internet and planning to maybe pop over to the GSA at the high school when he thinks the other coaches can run the beginning of practice without him -- those things don’t come up in conversation much. At least not naturally. So there is no way to tell Junior. Not that he wants to. Would sound too much like bragging or trying to get points for doing the basics. Which, again, the internet tells him is bad.

Watch gay movies (queer cinema, he says in his head, trying it out from what he’d read) is next. He has to make sure he looked completely comfortable with Junior and Jack kissing and the like when they came for Christmas. Luckily, the internet has a list of ones available on Netflix. Though, he’s not sure he’s supposed to talk to Junior about those either. He found one tweet or something in his search that seemed to imply that parents telling or asking their gay children about gay movies is awkward. Like assuming they all know each other.

There seems to be a mighty fine line between not acknowledging that your kid is gay enough and talking about it too much and making them feel all different. It’s a shame he can’t ask Junior for some advice. But he’s already done enough damage. He’ll have to figure this out on his own. He had spoken disparagingly of parades and rainbows in the car because, sonuvabitch, that seems like a hellish way to spend a Saturday, what with the noise and the heat and people all crammed into a small area like that, but if… well if it would help Junior feel better, he could probably do it. For a couple hours. Maybe.

He’ll have to talk to Junior directly more, he decides. Not just wait for major updates to come through Suzanne. He’ll have to--

“Hey, hon,” Suzanne says, stepping in front of him. He blinks and refocuses his eyes and wonders what brought her over. He doesn’t think it’s been as long as she usually stays. “You okay?”

“Wha- yeah,” he says. “Why?”

“Just checking,” she says. “You were just looking pretty intense, that’s all.”

“Just thinking about plans and stuff,” he replies. Not a lie.

“Plans?”

“Football stuff,” now he’s lying. “Game was sloppy yesterday. Gotta tighten up.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she says, patting his arm. She knows more about football than people assume and she can talk strategy with him when he needs to, but she’s not about to do it in Church. Sometimes she gets enough gossip here to last her the week.

“You ready to go?” she asks.

“If you want,” he replies. “I can stay longer if you want to talk to--”

“No, no,” she says. “You were up at Samwell this week. Let’s head back.”

He nods and accepts it when her path to the exit leads them through the center of the room rather than around the outskirts. There are hugs and kisses on the cheek and he nods and says goodbye when prompted and they are just about out when--

“Oh, the Bittles!” It’s Martha. Her last name escapes him at the moment but it’s not a big deal. He waits for Suzanne to finish her hug and then he leans down and gives her a polite hug as well. “How are you two holding up?”

“Just fine,” Suzanne says. Richard bobs his head up and down in agreement. “Did Todd make it today?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s got that new job so he’s just been busy, busy, busy!”

“Oh well, send him our love,” Suzanne says effortlessly. “And we certainly know what it means to be a bit busy. Especially this time of year!.”

“Oh yes,” Martha says. “It’s always like school starts up again and then suddenly it’s Christmas!”

“With somehow a thousand stressful football games in the middle.”

“Seems the weeks get shorter every year,” Richard adds which is what he always adds during this conversation.

“And the football games get longer,” Suzanne stage-whispers to Martha where it gets its usual short laugh and Richard shrugs to say ‘What can you do?’ and he’s pretty sure they have a clear shot to the door once they finish this one.

“Speaking of,” Suzanne continues and here it is, her exit strategy. “This one’s got to get home to plan for next Saturday so…”

“Of course, of course,” Martha says, waving them on. “Good luck!” and that should be the end of it, except Martha leans in one last time to Suzanne, speaks softly enough that Richard knows the comment wasn’t really meant for him at all, and says:

“We’ve been praying for you, you know. You and little Dicky.”

Suzanne’s smile goes a bit off-center but she is turning the lean into a quick goodbye hug already and moving and--

“Praying for Junior?” Richard finds himself saying. His blood has gone a bit cold somehow. “Why?”

Maybe he meant it to come out confused and dumb-like. It doesn’t. It comes out like he actually meant it: accusatory. Barely polite.

Martha freezes. Suzanne sort of looks at him, her eyes flashing a bit of a warning. He doesn’t know if it’s to not cause drama or to just ignore it but he does neither of those things. He just stands and waits for her answer.

“Well,” Martha says, glancing quickly around, probably to check who is listening. No one really appears to be so far. He hadn’t actually spoken that loudly. “Well, you know, with the… the… you know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says. Suzanne is definitely glaring at him a bit now.

“We’re not judging,” Martha is saying, voice almost a whisper. “We love Dicky. We do. We’re just keeping him in our prayers while he works through…”

She fades out or at least Richard doesn’t hear if she says more because all he can hear is his son worrying that he is messed up somehow, that he needs to be fixed, that he’s anything less than perfect.

“My son,” Richard starts and it’s a bit of a fight to keep his voice even. He clears his throat and tries again. “My son is the captain of his college hockey team, is graduating this May, and is currently dating someone who makes him very happy. A man. His boyfriend. My son’s boyfriend makes him very happy. He just told me. He is very happy.”

Richard takes a breath. Now people are looking. Not everyone, he hadn’t been talking quite loud enough to cause that, but people near them are looking and Martha’s mouth is sort of hanging open and, actually, Suzanne looks a bit shocked himself and suddenly Richard is very aware that he does not want to be the center of attention anymore. If ever.

“I- Well I--” Martha tries to start up again but Richard cannot even express how much he does not want to hear it.

“I reckon you should save your prayers for those who actually need ‘em,” Richard says. “Which doesn’t include my boy.”

He moves then. He doesn’t care what she has to say or what anyone else has to say, and, God help him, he doesn’t even know if he cares what Suzanne has to say, not if it’s something negative or worried about the gossip he just started. He just nods one last time at her because that’s what he does when he walks away from someone and takes a few quick strides out of the room. Then it’s down the hall and hang a left and there.

Outside.

That’s a bit better. Suzanne is right. It does get too hot in there.

He’s just sort of standing there, taking deep breaths, calming down, hands on his hips, when suddenly an arm links through his.

He waits a beat before looking down at Suzanne.

Her grin is blinding.

“You are brilliant,” she says, standing on her tip-toes and that’s his cue to lean over for a kiss on the cheek and he can feel a blush coming on (Junior thinks he gets that from his Mama, but that’s all Bittle). “Brilliant! I wish I had a picture of her face. God, she’s been saying that shit-- excuse my language, Jesus-- that shit for months and I’ve just been ignoring it and you! You just… Brilliant!”

She is bouncing and happy and they walk to the car, arm in arm, like back when they were dating and, alright, let’s not throw a parade or anything, he tells her, well aware that he’s still blushing, but--

It’s a start.

#check please #check please fanfiction #look whos writing again #also i already have TWO MORE ideas about bitty and his relationship with coach changing after this #i shall try to write them ASAP #lest i forget #my fic #richard bittle #coach bittle #canon compliant #bittle familiy feels #coach is a guy trying to do better #also is he just a fictionalized version of my father??#sources say maybe #suzanne bittle #she is also here though not in a major way

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