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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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REPOST FOR FORMATTING: I’m Talking To A Memory (Calling – Can You Hear Me?)

Voltron, Gen Relationships, Fluff and Humour, 5.5k Words

Summary: Sometimes, Team Voltron needs to look back on their happiest moments.

——

“This is an easier module, paladins,” Allura explained. “We had a rough mission, yesterday. I want today’s training to be soft. So: with the headbands, I want everyone to project a kind memory from their childhood. Something sweet, maybe even funny. Something to make everyone smile.”

Everyone closed their eyes, concentrating. After a few moments, Shiro breathed out a silent chuckle as a memory and played out.

—

A young Shiro was walking down the street, maybe fourteen. Holding his hand was a tiny child, no more than two, with a head of wild black hair, their other hand gripping tightly to the arm of a purple hippo.

Oh, wow. Keith was a cute kid.

As they walked, they passed the unmistakable golden arches of a McDonald’s, prompting the baby Keith to gasp.

“Taka! Donow! Donow! I want donow!” Teenage Shiro cooed at him.

“Aw, buddy, I’m sorry! All the McDonald’s burned down. There’s nothing inside that building except for ash,” he said pityingly.

Baby Keith pouted. “Aw,” he said dejectedly. “I want icream.” Teenage Shiro laughed, scooping the toddler up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m just kidding, buddy,” he said. “Let’s go get you a chocolate sundae.” Baby Keith lifted his hands in the air, yelling happily and babbling a little. “Choccat! Choccat! Hippo, choccat!”

Shiro grinned, and walked the two of them over to fulfill his promise.

—

“That was adorable. Oh my god.” Hunk turned to Keith, who was desperately trying not to smile.

“Shut up, that was embarrassing,” he says, trying to scowl and failing miserably.

Shiro grinned. “He was the cutest wittle baby, wasn’t he? With his big cheeks and smile and the sweetest —” Keith reached over to slap his hand over Shiro’s mouth, ears reddening.

“Thanks for your input. You can shut up now.”

Everyone was giggling at this point, joy lighting up the room. Lance nudged Allura.

“Good idea,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” she whispered back.

Shiro let the teasing go on for a moment longer, then gently clasped his hands together.

“All right, everyone,” he said, “Let’s get back to it. Who’s next?”

Hunk raised his hand. “I think I have something, but it might take me a minute to bring it up.” Shiro nodded encouragingly.

“Go ahead.”

Everyone shut their eyes again, quieting down, letting Hunk concentrate. After a few moments, a picture was projected in front of him, and the memory began to start.

—

Hunk is young in this memory. Maybe five? His nervousness is palpable, lips bitten, hands tangled nervously together. He is sitting criss-cross-applesauce on a carpet, surrounded by other young children. A middle-aged woman with wildly curly red hair is at the front of what looks to be a classroom.

“Welcome, everyone, to your first day of kindergarten!” she exclaims.

Ah. That explained it. First day of school jitters — for the very first time, too.

“Alright, so we’re going to go around the circle, introducing ourselves! Tell us your name and your favourite animal! I’ll go first. My name is Mrs. Mullard, and my favourite animal is the earthworm, because they’re so important to the Earth!”

And around the circle they go. There’s a spike of anxiety when it’s Little Hunk’s turn to go, but he takes a deep breath and manages to introduce himself shyly. “Hi. I’m Kealoha, and my favourite animal is the seagull, because they are silly and make me laugh.” Mrs. Mullard smiles kindly.

“Welcome to junior kindergarten, Kealoha! We’re so happy to have you!” Hunk smiles back, and the introductions move on to the boy next to him, who is so excited he is nearly vibrating.

“Hola! I’m Mijo, y my animal favorito is el tiburón because son rapidos y strong y so so old!! Son como dinosaurs!! Y they have grandes teeth, y did you know —” The boy is speaking in a mix of Spanish and English so quickly it’s nearly impossible to keep up, and Mrs. Mullard frowns once she processes what’s being said.

“Hold on a sec, there, kiddo,” she interrupts. “I don’t have a ‘Mijo’ in my class. Are you sure you’re in the right place?” The boy’s energy seems to sputter out and die. He shrinks in on himself.

“I dunno,” he says quietly. “Mamá doesn’t speak English muy bien. Tal vez.” The boy has begun to tear up, and he looks scared. Little Hunk reaches over, gently grabbing the boy’s hand.

“My dad doesn’t speak English so well either! It’s hard. Did you just move here?” The boy nods, some of his enthusiasm returning.

“Si! We got here el mes pasado!”

“There might have been a mix-up, then,” Mrs. Mullard says kindly. “That’s alright! We’ll keep going, and you can stay with us for now. We’ll figure out where you’re supposed to be after, okay Mijo?” Mijo grins. He’s still holding Little Hunk’s hand.

“Okay!”

The introductions continue until they circle back to Mrs. Mullard. Her brows furrow, and she does a quick headcount.

“Huh. All of you are here, but I am supposed to have a Leandro in this class. Has anyone heard from him?”

No one says anything, but Mijo leans towards Little Hunk. “My mamá sometimes calls me Leandro, pero solo si I did something bad y she finds out,” he whispers. “I think que es una swear word.”

“Maybe a Spanish swear word,” Little Hunk whispers back, “because my big sister swears all the time and I’ve never heard her say that before.” Mijo nods.

“That makes sense! Oye, we are amigos now, si? Wanna play later?” Little Hunk grins, and as soon as Mrs. Mullard excused them they two are off like rockets to the Lego station. They build little spaceships, spending some time playing space explorers, when they hear someone start to laugh loudly. They looked over to see Mrs. Mullard on the phone, wiping tears from her eyes.

“It’s not a problem, Mrs. Esposita,” she says. “I’ll talk to him a little now, and let you talk to him again later.” She hangs up the phone, then turns to look directly at Mijo and Little Hunk. She smiles, her eyes still filled with laughter.

“Le — Mijo, dear, will you come here for a moment?” Mijo hesitates, looking over at Little Hunk.

“Can I bring my friend?” he asks.

“Sure, sweetie.”

Holding hands, the two boys walk over to Mrs. Mullard’s desk.

“Mijo,” she says warmly, “I just got off the phone with your mother. Did you know your real name is Leandro?”

Mijo — or Leandro, rather — furrows his brow.

“No,” he argued, “Mamá solo calls me Leandro quando I get in trouble, so esa una swear word.” Mrs. Mullard laughs loudly again. Little Hunk smiles. She has a very bright laugh.

“I promise it’s not a swear word, buddy. ‘Mijo’ is the Spanish word for ‘my son’. I bet your family calls you that because they love you so much. But at school, we should call you by your name! I promise Leandro isn’t a swear.”

“Plus,” Little Hunk adds, “I think Leandro is an awesome name!”

Little Hunk’s new friend thinks for a moment, then nods slowly.

“Aprobado, but if I don’t like it can everybody call me Mijo again?”

Mrs. Mullard patted him on the head. “Absolutely. But something tells me Leandro is going to suit you just fine.”

—

“Hey, Lance, tell us what you think of sharks,” Pidge teases the second the memory is over.

“Hey, sharks are still the coolest animal ever!” he defends playfully. “Baby me was right!”

“You didn’t even know your own name,” Keith teases, “what do you know about the best animal?”

Hunk grins. “In Lance’s defense, even now his mom calls him mijo more than anything. He’s the baby of the family, you know how it is.”

Everyone continues to rib on Lance for a bit, but no one could deny that the whole situation was beyond adorable. And it made a lot of sense seeing how quickly Lance and Hunk had clicked, even as children. So much of their relationship was explained when you realised they grew up together.

“I think I have a memory,” Allura says after a few moments. Hunk grins, shooting her a thumbs up.

“Go for it!” he encourages. She closes her eyes, smiles, and projects her thoughts.

—

A preteen Allura sits sullenly on the observation deck of the castle, dressed head to toe in light pink, a hood over her head.

The middle school emo phase, it seemed, was universal.

After a few minutes of solitary sulking, a redhead merrily makes his way into the room, plopping down next to the young princess. She scowls, turning away.

“Go away, Coran,” she says, “I don’t want to hear your reasons why cutting my hair is un-princess-like. Everyone else has already supplied plenty of them.”

Coran hums, saying nothing for a moment. He just sits with her.

“I’m not here to lecture you further, Princess,” he assures. “I am here, simply, to provide you with a photo of your mother when she was your age.” He taps on his holopad a few times. “Ah, here it is,” he says, turning to show her. Allura looks away.

“No. I don’t want to see a picture of Mother looking prim and perfect so I can see just how little I am acting like her, and how I should listen to everyone else and just keep my hair as is —"

“Allura,” Coran interrupts gently, “please look at the picture.” Huffing, she does — freezing in shock. If Coran hadn’t told her beforehand, Allura may not even recognize Queen Melenor at all. The woman — girl, rather — in the photo was scowling, seeming angry to be in the photograph. She wears pink makeup around her eyes, her face pierced in many places. What Allura could see of her clothes showed a similar outfit to what Allura herself is wearing. And lastly, perhaps even most importantly, is the young Queen’s hair — there is hardly any at all! One side is shaved bald, with juniberry tattoos decorating her skin, and one half is braided in tight cornrows. Calling her beautiful wouldn’t be the right word, although she most certainly was: Queen Melenor looked fierce. She looked angry, almost.

“My mother — she looked like that? At my age?” asks Allura quietly.

“She did!” Coran says cheerfully. “Your mother was much like you, Princess. Only she didn’t ask to cut her hair, or pierce her face — she simply did it. She went through a phase of self-discovery just like you are doing now, although many prim and proper nobles love to forget it. Was your father not so busy — and this is not an excuse, mind you — he would be reminding them of your mother’s cheeky rebellion at every turn. You have forgotten, my dear, that you outrank each of the officials who are currently attempting to tell you how to live your life.”

Allura’s eyes were wet. Trust Coran to be the one who could see the root of her issues, the centre of her problems.

“Why, Coran,” she says thickly, “are you telling me I should ignore all the adults in my life?”

Coran chuckles, and pats her on the hand. “I would do no such thing, child,” he says. “I simply wish for you to remember that while you are young, you are not a mindless drone. You have your right to autonomy — do not let those who seek to be the most powerful in a room convince you to forget that. Dress how you like. The only mark of a royal is their ability to rule — not their hair or their clothes.”

Allura sniffles, wiping her tears, then sags forward into the man’s arms.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Coran presses a kiss to her hair.

“Any time, my dear.”

—

Coran is openly weeping. Allura smiles softly, going over to hug the man. “I wasn’t sure I got through to you,” he wails. “You were having such a rough time, then, so I wasn’t sure you were retaining anything. I was so worried.” Allura tightens her arms around him.

“Of course you got through to me. You were one of the only people I listened to, back then. That talk was one of the most important moments in my life.”

There’s not a dry eye in the room. Everyone is moved by the love between the two Alteans, the care they show for each other. They sit comfortably in silence, allowing their emotions to be felt to the fullest.

Coran pats Allura twice on the back, pulling away and drying his eyes. He smiles. “It was lovely to reminisce with you, dear,” he says. He turns to address the rest of the team. “Who is next?”

Pidge raised her hand. “I have a memory in mind, but it’s not nearly as heartwarming as yours so I kind of feel bad about it,” she admits.

Allura shakes her head. “Nonsense!” she proclaims. “This training session is meant to bring joy and ease to us all. There is no memory that is more or less valuable than the others. We are equals, here. Please, Pidge; show us what memory you hold dear.”

“Yeah!” Lance agrees. “I wanna see some of your memories with your family. From what you’ve told me, they sound great!”

Pidge grins. “Alright. I think you’ll like this one.”

And with that, her memory starts.

—

The first thing visible is a small white dog. Next is a young girl with poofy brown hair, petting the dog and absolutely sobbing.

“Bae-Bae is gonna die,” she wails. Her mother hugs her close, running her fingers through the young girl’s hair.

“No, Katie-kat. Bae-Bae is just going to the vet to get neutered. He’s gonna be fine, baby, I promise.”

Little Pidge sniffles, calming down. “What’s neuter?” she asks after a moment. Colleen Holt stiffens, trading a panicked look with her husband.

Oops.

“Uh, neutering is a special procedure boy dogs get so that they don’t grow up to be mean, and have an easier time behaving,” Sam explains.

Little Pidge sniffles again, but the only evidence of her sadness left are tear tracks — her face is overcome with a look of insistent curiosity. “So neutering makes you nice and good?” she confirms. Colleen makes a face, but seems to decide that this explanation is suitable for her child, rather than going in depth about the sexual hormones of canines. She has an appointment to get to, after all.

“Yes,” she says hesitantly. “That’s right. Okay, sweetie, Daddy and I are going to go take Bae-Bae to the vet now, okay? Be good for your brother. Don’t answer the door, and call us if you need anything. Especially call us if you see Matt do anything he’s not allowed to do.”

A teenager with a striking resemblance to the young girl — who can only be a young Matt — rolls his eyes. “It’s gonna be fine, Mom,” he complains. “I can watch her safely for a few hours.”

The Holts come back from their vet appointment to screaming.

“Why are you such a whiney baby?” screams their oldest. Instead of the tears they’re expecting, Little Pidge stands up, puts her hands on her hips, and yells back just as loudly.

“I’m gonna get Mommy and Daddy to take you to the vet! You need to be neutered!” she yells right back.

Sam chokes, and Colleen’s jaw drops. Matt splutters.

“You — you can’t —” he catches sight of his parents in the doorway, looking as shocked as he is. “Mom!” he yells, “tell her she can’t say that!” His face is redder than Colleen has ever seen it. Beside her, her husband collapses into laughter, fully bent over at the waist. Matt’s blush deepens. “Dad!”

She swallows her own giggles, clearly the only one mature enough to handle the situation. “Katie,” she says, voice shaking, “you can’t tell your brother he needs to be neu—neutered.” She does everything she can to look stern, but she’s about to lose it and it shows.

Little Pidge looks bewildered, and a little angry at being chastised when she’s so sure she’s in the right.

“But you said neutering makes boys less mean! And behave better! And so Matt needs to be neutered more than anyone!” Sam gasps for air, pounding his fist on the ground. Colleen looks at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and doing absolutely everything in her power to keep herself in check. As funny as this is, Matt looks ready to actually die from embarrassment.

“Katie, baby, neutering is something that is done only on dogs. Like taking them on walks, or using leases. It’s not something that’s appropriate to say about your brother.”

Little Pidge scowls, crossing her arms. “I think Matt should get a leash, too, since he’s always getting into trouble,” she grumbles.

That is Colleen’s last straw. She starts to laugh as hard as her husband. Matt is sputtering, and Little Pidge is smirking at him, looking absolutely satisfied.

—

Team Voltron is laughing just as hard as poor Sam Holt. Shiro especially — he keeps trying to control himself, seeing Matt’s indignant face in his mind, and losing it all over again. Pidge is smirking to herself, just as satisfied as she was all those years ago.

“You — you told your parents to neuter him —” Hunk wheezes. Pidge grins at him.

“It was very difficult to get me to stop doing that. Once, I said it in front of a girl he liked. I think his soul died a little.” Shiro loses it again, laughing so hard he’s soundless. Keith keeps getting set off by seeing his brother lose it so thoroughly. Lance and Allura are leaning against each other, desperately trying to catch their breath. Coran is wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“God, Pidgey,” Lance says after everyone has calmed down a bit, “I bet you were the brattiest kid. You definitely pulled shit like that on your poor brother all the time.”

Pidge shrugs, unapologetic. “There’s nothing more fun than humiliating Matt. Except, maybe, humiliating you,” she teases, poking Lance in the ribs with her foot. Lance squeals, twisting away from her.

“Cut it out! Gremlin!”

Hunk grabs Pidge by the back of her hoodie, dragging her back before her and Lance devolve into a wrestling match. There are still more memories to watch, after all.

“Alright, alright. Cool it. We still have more people to go through. Keith? You wanna give it a shot?” Hunk asks. Keith smiles at him.

“Yeah, I have something,” he replies. The memory starts before he even finishes speaking.

—

A young Keith, no more than six or seven years old, is scowling heavily in what is presumably his room. “Stupid Shiro,” he mutters. “Says he’s gonna take me to look for Mothman, but then says he has a ‘date night’.” The words are said mockingly, with more sass than one might expect from a second grader. Suddenly, Little Keith sits up, and a shockingly evil grin lights up his face. He runs out of his bedroom, to the kitchen, and carefully opens a drawer to reveal all sorts of utensils and cooking tools. He pushes things around until he finds what he’s looking for, letting at a soft “Aha!” when his hands close around the scissors. He closes the drawer, and walks carefully back out of the kitchen, keeping an eye on where he steps so he doesn’t trip and hurt himself. He walks into a room, quickly revealed to be the bathroom, and steps on a little stool in front of the sink. Even with the step, he has to get on his tiptoes and stretch out as far as he can go to open the cabinet behind the mirror. The cabinet is home to many medical supplies, on shelves too high for little hands to reach, and toothpaste and toothbrushes on the lowest shelf. Instead of reaching for the red Ninja Turtle toothbrush that is obviously his, Little Keith grabs the boring purple one. He hops off the stool, grinning. He carefully takes a hold of the scissors, and then cuts off all the bristles of the brush, then putting it back where he found it. He carefully makes his way back to the kitchen, returning the scissors, before rushing back to his room giggling all the way.

The memory shifts to much later in the day, when Little Keith is tucked into bed. He’s sleepy, clearly fighting his exhaustion, but refuses to pass out. A few moments later, his door opens, and a young Shiro pokes his head in. Little Keith quickly closes his eyes, fighting to keep his face relaxed and neutral. Young Shiro isn’t paying much attention, clearly still distracted from his date, and smiles softly before backing out of the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as Little Keith hears the door shut, he jumps out of bed, cracking the door back open so he can see. Young Shiro disappears into his own room for a moment, muffled noises making it evident he’s changing into pajamas, before he comes back out and turns the corner into the bathroom. He opens the mirror cabinet, reaching in — then he freezes, making a face. He pulls out his toothbrush and stares at it for a moment, bewildered.

“What the fuck?”

Little Keith’s eyes widen, and he dissolves into giggles. Young Shiro’s eyes snap to the sound, making Little Keith laugh harder.

“You swore !” he gasps. Young Shiro’s eyes narrow playfully, and he sets down the ruined toothbrush and stalks towards the giggling child.

“Keith,” he says, jokingly menacing. “Did you destroy my toothbrush?”

Little Keith sticks out his tongue. “You ditched me to go kiss a boy! You deserved it!”

“I said I’d take you out tomorrow instead, you little booger!”

“Still!”

“I can’t believe you chopped up my toothbrush!”

Young Shiro pounces, tickling the boy, giving him a noogie next. Little Keith writhes around, laughing hysterically, attempting to buck Young Shiro off to no avail.

“Get off me, you big lug!”

“Say sorry for wrecking my toothbrush!”

“No! You’re a stinky butthead!”

“Oh, I’ll show you a butthead!”

The boys continue to wrestle playfully, until eventually Young Shiro pins Little Keith down, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Dork,” he says fondly, backing off.

Little Keith sits up, huffing, and wipes the kiss off.

“Ew! You got kissing cooties and you kissed me too! Now I’m gonna get cooties!” he complains. Young Shiro laughs, ruffling the boy’s hair and pulling him up.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he assures. “Now back to bed, you little brat. It’s late, and you have school tomorrow. And we have to go and look for Mothman, so it’s gonna be a long day.” Little Keith grins, giving his brother a quick hug, then rushes back into his bed. Young Shiro tucks him in, giving him another quick head smooch.

“Love you, you booger.”

“Love you too, cootie-man.”

—

Shiro is the first to speak. “I still can’t believe you cut up my toothbrush then waited four hours for me to get home to watch me get mad about it,” he says, shaking his head.

Keith smirks at him. “I still think it’s funny.”

“I have to agree with Keith this time,” Lance pipes up. “Cutting the brush off the toothbrush is fucking hilarious. Now all you have — now all you have’s a fuckin’ stick —” he dissolves into giggles.

“My favourite part was the footie pajamas,” Allura comments. Keith’s ears go a little red, but he stands his ground.

“I was seven. I was allowed footie pajamas,” he defends.

“Footie pajamas are loads of fun!” Coran agrees. “Why, when Queen Melenor and I were children, we wore them constantly! Once, we even had a sliding race around the castle, it was so much fun.”

“Why don’t you show us, Coran?” Hunk asks excitedly.

“Oh, excellent idea, Number Two!” says Coran. He fiddles with his headset, assuring it’s set up properly, and then projects the memory.

—

A young girl —who looks shockingly like Princess Allura, except for her deep brown eyes — is wearing a fuzzy pink onesie, jumping up and down in excitement. “Coran, Coran, are you ready?” she calls. Coran — also a child, although nearly unrecognisable without his signature moustache — is dressed similarly, his onesie a bright red that clashes brilliantly with his hair.

“Yes! You don’t see any grown-ups?” he asks. Melenor shakes her head vigorously.

“I overheard Mother earlier this morning — the Council has a long meeting, and they won’t be finished until much later. The hall should be empty for the next few varga!”

Young Coran grins at her, and the two join hands, bounding over to where a crooked line has been drawn at the start of a long hallway.

“Okay, remember the rules,” Young Coran starts, “we count down together, then we run until we hit the line and slide, and whoever gets the farthest wins! Loser has to jump in the pool with their clothes on.” Melenor grins.

“I remember!” she exclaims. “Let’s go!” The two children back up a little, giving themselves space, and then they begin a countdown: “3… 2… 1! Go!” They yell together, and shoot off. When their feet cross the line, they throw themselves onto their bellies, whooping and hollering as they slide down the hallway with impossible speed. Only, the hallway isn’t as long as they thought, and their eyes widen at the same time as they realise they are about to come to a very abrupt stop. With a loud crashing noise, the two Alteans slam into the wall at full speed.

“Ow,” groans Melenor.

“Ugh,” agrees Young Coran. The two roughly get to their feet, shaking out their limbs.

“So,” Melenor says after a moment, “who lost?” Young Coran taps his chin, pausing thoughtfully.

“Well,” he starts, “I think we hit the wall at the same time, which means we both lose.”

Melenor tilts her head. “So…” she grins. “We both go swim in our clothes?” Young Coran grins right back.

“I think so!” And the two of them race off again, off to get in more of the kind of trouble only unsupervised children are capable of making.

—

“‘Unsupervised’ has to be my favourite genre of child,” Pidge comments. Lance snorts.

“Yeah, they always have the best ideas,” he says with a grin. “Especially you, Coran. I bet you and Queen Melenor were little terrors.”

Coran grins, moustache twitching. “That we were, my boy! Why, I think Melenor may have spent more time on the time-out chair than her throne. She often took the fall for our little misadventures. Selfless, she was.”

Allura smiles softly. “That’s how I remember her, too,” she agrees. She shakes her head, then turns to Lance.

“It’s your turn, Lance,” she says. “What is that human saying? About the last to go?”

“‘Last, but not least’,” Shiro supplies. Allura claps her hands together.

“Yes! That’s it. You’ve had some time to think — do you have a memory picked out?”

Lance nods. “Yeah, I’ve got one. Everyone ready?”

—

The first thing visible is a closeup of a red curtain. As a tween Lance — maybe 12? — opens the curtain, a large crowd of people is revealed, although Tween Lance’s careful mask of indifference doesn’t shift. He closes his eyes, sighing.

“Dunno what I’m looking for,” he mutters, closing the curtain and walking backstage. A woman waits for him, smiling sadly when she sees him.

“I’m sorry they couldn’t make it,” she offers. “It sucks. I know how hard you worked. It’s unlike them to miss any of your recitals, though — they’ve been cheering at the front row for you for as long as I can remember. How come no one’s watching you this time? Especially for your first solo?”

Tween Lance shrugs, looking at the ground.

“I told them the recital got cancelled because the avenue was flooded,” Tween Lance confesses. The woman looks shocked.

“What? Why?” she demands. Lance toes the ground, although it can’t be easy to do with pointe shoes.

“Veronica is graduating today,” he mutters. “I didn’t know our things would be on the same day until Carrie told us the recital date last month. I know they’d feel guilty about missing one of our things, especially Mamá. If they think there’s no recital to miss, then there’s no guilt. I just pretended to be sick.” He shoots the woman a small grin. “No one loses, this way.” The woman sighs, pulling Tween Lance into a tight hug.

“That was very selfless of you, but I’m sorry anyway,” she says. “We’ve worked on this solo for weeks, and you’re genuinely the best student I’ve ever had. I was so excited for you to show your family.”

“And our intercession is over! Please, everyone, take your seats!” comes a voice over a speaker. The woman lets go of Tween Lance, patting him on the cheek, and turns him around, pushing him towards the stage.

“Your family may not have been able to make it, but I’ll be watching,” she whispers, “and I know you’ll be great. Break a leg!”

Tween Lance grins at her, then prances over to take his position as the curtains open. He stands in first position, looking into the crowd as he waits for the music to begin, and — is that Hunk?

In the first row, waving enthusiastically, is a Tween Hunk. Tween Lance’s jaw drops, before a huge smile lights up his whole face. The music starts, and Tween Lance feels joy erupt in his chest: someone has come for him! He didn’t tell anyone about the recital, but Hunk knew anyway, and he came to watch.

Tween Lance dances beautifully, with more emotion than he’s ever managed to do before. His elation is spread to the audience, who are enraptured by his skill, but none of them matter except Tween Hunk, who is there.

The last note of the song plays, and Tween Lance holds his final position. He bows, and the audience bursts into thunderous applause, but Tween Hunk is louder than them all.

“That’s my best friend!” he screams. “He’s so cool!” The curtains close, but Tween Lance can still hear the whoops and hollers of his number one supporter. He rushes off the stage, grinning and waving at his teacher, who smiles knowingly. He rushes down the stairs, turning a corner, and there he is! Tween Hunk is waiting for him in the hall. He crushes Tween Lance in a hug, squeezing so hard he’s lifted from the ground.

“That was the best you’ve ever danced!” he exclaims. “I can’t believe I almost missed it!” Tween Hunk sets Tween Lance back on the ground, but still holds him close.

“How did you know, anyway?” Tween Lance asks. Tween Hunk gives him a look.

“I know when you’re faking sick, dude,” he says. “I figured something was up, so I messaged your dance teacher to see if you were maybe at the studio to cheer yourself up. Imagine my surprise when I find out your recital is not only not cancelled, but it’s today, and if I don’t leave immediately I’m gonna miss your dance!” Tween Lance looks sheepishly at the floor.

“I didn’t want everyone to feel bad about missing it to see Veronica,” he explains. Tween Hunk rolls his eyes, chuffing Tween Lance on the shoulder.

“I’m your best friend, dude,” he says. “You’re supposed to tell me everything, especially your self-sacrificing plans. Besides — I love you the most, dude. I wouldn’t miss your performances for the world.”

—

“I guess you’ve always been like this, huh?” Pidge asks Lance. “Heaven forbid you put your needs first.”

Hunk huffs out an agreeing laugh.

“You’ve no idea,” he says.

Lance shrugs. “I still stand by what I did. No one in my family is guilty about it, and now I know to tell Hunk when I do things! Win-win.”

Keith clears his throat, elbowing Lance in the side. “You, uh, can tell us now, too,” he says shyly. “We don’t want to miss out on you either.”

Lance smiles at him. “Thanks, man,” he says softly. “I appreciate it.”

A comfortable silence washes over the room, everyone reflecting on what they’ve seen. As much as Allura had called this a ‘soft’ training session when they began, they each feel like they’ve learnt more about each other in the past couple of hours than they have throughout their whole time in space. There’s something about sharing joy — it brings people closer than any tragedy could hope to do.

“Alright,” Shiro says after a while. “It’s late. It’s been a long day. I think we should all turn in, get some sleep before we face tomorrow.”

There are murmurs of agreement, and everyone exchanges goodbyes and well wishes before splitting off to their own rooms.

They have memories to dream of, after all.

prompt sources:

donow mijo toothbrush neuter

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kurokrisps · 2 years

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I've finished them! My two catboys!

They act as familiars for my witch oc. I call the black cat, Anansi. I may call the white cat Achaman, but that may change in the future. Maybe I'll use Shiro as a placeholder name.

#oc: anansi #oc: shiro #black cat #white cat #kemonomimi #nekomimi #neko boy #catboy #anime #black anime #manga #black artist #black comics #story: toil and trouble #character design #artist on tumblr #digital art #nae draws

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swagging-back-to · 1 year

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also why was keith the one who felt the blue lion, like why was that never explained. it was MENTIONED multiple times but no one ever explained why keith felt drawn to lances lion before lance did.

#likkkkkke #either theyre soulmates #or keith is secretly the blue paladinnn #it's been an au ive been cooking up for a while now #like what if he wasnt emotionally troubled and had good emotional maturity and coping?#like look at how he cares about shiro and apply that to everyone. bam. blue paladin #he could be the blue paladin fr #if lance can be the red paladin then keith can be blue.#also look at how selfless he is? lance is always like 'oh i want to go home' and then in canon when the ''war is over'' he stays on earth #meanwhile keith is yelling at pidge because she wanted to leave to find her family and when ''the war is over'' he stays with the blade #just... helping people.#it's got substance #wips

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 2 years

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you could write about anything take your pick, Lance or Princess Allura; an AU of your choice :)

Here's a bit from a Crossover AU fic that's all but abandoned

Pain. A searing pain that Allura had thought would only exist in her nightmares of Altea's destruction coursed through her veins.

It was odd, though, because the only thing she could feel right now other than pain was floating, like she was in water. Maybe she was dreaming. After all in nowhere but a dream would Voltron's paladins or Coran do something so nail-bitingly stupid as bring Voltron to Emperor Zarkon's doorstep just to rescue her. The safety of the universe was far more important. Not that she wasn't grateful. Or impressed for that matter. Between her rescue and five rookie paladins who less than a month ago had never even heard of the Galra empire or Altea she would have expected someone to die before making it through the wormhole.

Maybe someone had died, she thought, maybe she was dead. Something had happened to the castle's wormhole and the last thing she could recall was the paladins screaming in fear. She'd bet a month’s worth of tesfer that witch she'd seen at Zarkon's side had something to do with that. Now she was floating in a weightless darkness, a cacophonous ringing between her ears. Wait, that wasn't ringing, that was someone calling her name.

"Allura!"

With agonizing slowness, Allura opened her eyes. White heat flashed in her vision and faded into the familiar blue tinted lighting of the castle of lions' bridge. Looking to her right a surge of relief shot through her when she saw Coran's worried face.

"Coran!"

Allura had never been so happy to see her father's friend and advisor in her whole life. Coran must have shared the sentiment because he embraced her as soon as she had awoken.

"What happened?” Allura asked when Coran pulled away, “I remember something being wrong with the wormhole and--"

Dread crawled up Allura's back and spread over her face.

"The paladins! Voltron!"

"It's alright princess. The paladins made it through okay."

If her paladins weren’t here with her right now, then that wasn’t good enough. Allura shakily rose to her feet.

“Allura...”

“I need to see them, Coran!”

When Coran gave no further argument, Allura rushed to her console, bringing the castle’s main view screen to life to show four robot lions of four different colors floating limply through space. Allura swallowed. There were supposed to be five lions. The green one was missing.

"Is everyone alright!"

When no response came, Allura feared that their first fatality would come all too soon. In the mayhem to get to the wormhole, Allura hadn’t checked just who was in front of or behind her.

"Paladins, are you there? Shiro? Keith? Someone, come in!"

It could just be that their communications were down, she told herself.

“Coran, scan for the Green Lion’s signal.”

Coran hopped over to the main terminal of the bridge.

“Yes, Princess.”

If Pidge was just separated from them, then it was possible her radio was working.

“Pidge? Pidge are you in range?”

The green paladin could take care of herself. Allura knew this, everyone knew this. But she always looked so delicate to Allura, like a bird’s bone.

Even when she picked her ear and smelled it when no-one was looking.

She knew it sounded stupid to think of the person who took on Sendak to rescue the castle of lions like that, but she couldn’t help it. Pidge was one of her paladins, she had a right to worry about them.

Like how she was worried right now, when she received no response from the green lion or any of the lions.

Allura paused and took a deep breath.

During her attempted rescue, Zarkon had done something to make the black lion go crazy. Maybe he could affect all the lions like he could the black one. They’d found the red lion on a Galra ship and who knows what was done to it in the last ten thousand years. The very idea of Zarkon’s talons sinking into the lions like they were her paladin’s necks made her skin crawl. She remembered when she and Hunk had found Shiro in the grip of Zarkon’s witch, wounded, and her resolve strengthened.

"Coran, open all frequencies."

"Just a tick."

Soon, all the castle’s screens were lit up.

“This is Princess Allura of Altea,” Allura’s voice echoed through the castle’s halls from the intercoms, and out through space. Anyone with a working radio would hear them. If she was in her right mind, she would be scolding herself for painting a sonic target on them for any nearby Galra, but she wasn’t in her right mind, dammit! Her paladins could be dying!

“Paladins,” she all but shouted, “report in.”

Again, there was no response, only feedback on the comms from her shouting.

"Lance, Hunk? Is there anyone out there?"

Allura's heart dropped as nothing but static filled the monitor. She looked to Coran. He shook his head, and she could tell from the way his shoulders slumped that he was thinking the same thing she was. Even his mustache seemed to droop and dull in color. They would have to assume the worst.

“Coran,” said Allura, biting down her tears, “close all channels and prepare to retrieve the lions.”

Coran turned back to the main terminal.

“Yes princess…”

His voice was so strange when it lacked the verve she’d come to know him for. Then out of the silence, Coran’s finger a hair’s length above the button…

“--Lura is that you?”

A small communications window, grainy and cutting out once, flickered into existence on the castle ship’s main view screen. Allura’s heart soared and she was almost certain she heard Coran release a joyous sob.

“Shiro! Thank the ancients you're alright!”

“Alright is relative,” he said, grimacing, “but I’m alive. We’ve been trying to reach you since we got out of the wormhole.”

We. He had used the word we. The rest of them were alive. Her paladins were alive! She hadn’t failed them!

“Something must have scrambled our communications.”

That was Hunk. The yellow lion’s video feed came in after the audio, revealing the yellow paladin’s face. His chin shone with perspiration and his voice was rough and Allura didn’t doubt that he had been panicking. But that didn’t matter. As long as Hunk was still here, he could panic all he wanted.

“I couldn’t tell you what, though,” Hunk said, “Pidge has more experience in that area. I tried to contact her, but Lance and Keith were the only ones who I could reach.”

Another window formed next to Hunk’s, this one severely out of reception, but the voice was undoubtedly the blue lion’s paladin, Lance. And Allura doubted anyone wouldn’t recognize that knife-like chin, good reception or bad.

“I haven’t heard from her,” Lance said, the static of the feed putting a lisp into his voice, “Has anyone heard from Pidge?”

Another grainy transmission appeared on the castle’s main screen. The color was out on this one but…

“Keith, is that you?”

“Allura?”

The transmission cut out, but the voice was Keith’s. Soon, all four screens disappeared.

“Coran! Redirect all non-essential power to communications!”

“In a jiffy, princess!”

With renewed energy, Coran began pressing buttons and pulling levers, screens popping up all over the view screen, the feed from the lions winking on and off. Allura could catch snippets of conversation in the discord.

“Allura—re—u—the—?”

“—ink I saw Pi—”

“—Fall out of the wormhole earl—”

The main lights of the ship switched off.

“Coran?”

“One moment.”

In less than a heartbeat, the main monitor lit up with four screens, the feed from the Voltron lions. Finally, all four of the five paladins of Voltron that were still with her appeared.

#asks #answers #thanks for asking #this is an oldie I had trouble finding it #vld #vldceu #voltron #Allura #Princess Allura #Coran #Lance #Shiro #Hunk #Keith #S2 AU #My writing

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justaz · 3 months

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thinking about klance.

keith who is always left behind and abandoned, either voluntarily or not. keith who has trouble trusting people and talking to people and getting along with people and-…keith having trouble with people in general. keith who is used to fending for himself and not relying on anyone bc the two (2) times he’s done that, his parents and shiro (died, left, disappeared), didn’t end well. keith who despite finding shiro again couldn’t help the gap forming between them as his brain and heart insist that something will happen again and shiro being here isn’t permanent. keith being proven right in season 2/3 and being left alone again.

lance who is SO trusting that he comes across as a bit naive. lance who worked hard to get where he is, who studied and practiced day and night to be at the top of the class. lance who always fell short and just missed the cut and ended up a cargo pilot. lance who only excelled once keith was gone but was stuck living in his shadow. despite the fact that iverson was mean to keith, keith was his favorite student and iverson always held a grudge for lance taking his place and was downright cruel to him at times. lance who started a rivalry w keith in his head bc he was determined to prove that he could be better than keith. lance who was moved from blue to red paladin, following after keith yet again. lance who worked hard to prove that he was worthy of being red paladin but always failing bc he was never keith, he was never good enough.

klance who found what they lacked in each other. lance who was there for keith when it seemed like the universe was crumbling down around him. lance who stood by keith’s side and told him what he needed to hear, supporting him being leader and helping lead the team together. keith seeing lance as an equal and relying on him the way lance relied on him. keith who was loved and supported by someone who never left, lance who was seen for who he was and who never doubted him or his place on the team. klance who turned on each other.

keith who turned into what he hated and leaving lance behind. lance who saw keith as weak and selfish for leaving him the team behind. keith who came back to a lance who was so angry and upset, but who never left his side bc lance was just Like That. lance who was so hurt and upset, who said cruel things in the vacuum of space, but keith never saw him as less for it, who never got angry enough to hurt lance back.

at the end of everything, lance searching for keith to sit at his side as they watched the sunset bc lance will always be at keith’s side. keith who told lance how relieved he was and hopeful bc he knows what lance is capable of and how much he needs him. klance being what the other needs, holding each other’s heart in their hands but never taking the opportunities to crush each other. lance who never left keith behind, keith who never saw lance as less despite the vitriol he spat at times.

#soulmates #idk if i articulated my thought well enough #but it is what it is #i just wanted to get this down #they are exactly what the other needs #they could be each others downfall but they love each other too much to do so #lance who could prove to keith that his mind is right - that keith is doomed to be alone. that everyone will always leave him.#keith who could prove to lance that his mind is right - that lance will NEVER be good enough for anyone. that hes unworthy of veneration #klance who could utterly destroy one another and have enough reason to but never doing so #theyre on like a dangerous precipace but their love for one another is enough to keep them from falling to their doom #does this make them two sides of the same coin? kinda right?#lance mcclain #keith kogane #klance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #chracter analysis #does this make sense #angst #klangst #but also not #but also yes #keith angst #lance angst

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lunargrapejuice · 2 months

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family + loyalty

chapter one: mafia & mangoes | 9.1k+ words

satoru gojo x fem!reader | mafia au

chapter warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit sexual content, illegal activies, alcohol drinking, profanity, jealousy, pet names

series masterlist

the navy blue sky starts to brighten into an early morning azure, the sun's rays peeking from behind the city's buildings, just as you knock on the hollow metal door at the back entrance of the hanami ninth night club. the routine clicks of the locks follow shortly after and you're welcomed with a tired, if not slightly hung over, smile from shiro. even this early in the morning he’s dressed in a brown suit that’s a bit big on him, his dark brown hair slicked back and smoking a cigarette.

this was how he looked every time you came by, you swear his suit was the exact same too, but this morning in his slouched, bloodshot eyes, he looked particularly haggard.

“you’re one of my more demanding business partners, you know that?” he says, blowing smoke from his cigarette to his side before tossing the still burning bud on the ground and stomping it out with his shining designer shoes.

“you complain yet answer every time i come knocking,” you retort, holding back your smile, knowing this is just how he was with you.

the morning air that’s not quite warm enough for the t-shirt you’ve chosen to wear lingers on your exposed skin as he flips through the cash you hand him. he knows you’re good for it, you’ve been doing business with him for over a year now and you’re not about to ruin it nor are you dishonest by nature. but you know it’s just routine and wait patiently.

he pockets that cash and steps closer inside, leaving the door open so you can hear him while he grabs your things. “don’t get it wrong, i like doing business with you little lady,” his voice muffled as he moves further back into the club. “you may only be a small time customer but even still, your business is appreciated. even if it means gettin’ up this early on a saturday morning,” he return with the wooden crate full of goods. “here you are,” gently he places the box into your arms ensuring you can support the weight before letting go. “see ya next week?”

you smile and nod, shift the crate to sit more comfortably, “see you then. thanks again shiro.”

he waves goodbye as you turn around and begin to head back into the main street. it’s not far to your destination and you take your time enjoying the early saturday morning that brings a normally unseen beauty to this side of the city. the dozens of small locally owned shops around this area are at least an hour away from opening and the streets are almost empty aside from the handful of early risers taking leisurely walks and the coffee shop that has the sweet, nutty aroma of their specialty coffee lingering in the air. it wasn’t so bad getting up this early when you got to take your time enjoying the little things like this, if anything it helps you prepare for what would be another busy day. the calm before the not-so-bad storm.

and yet, a storm nonetheless.

as you round the street corner, you support the heavy box with one arm and your hip as you search through your bag for your keys. wallet, chipstick, receipts from the grocery store, loose change but no keys. you make a mental note of how messy your bag is since it’s nearly impossible to find what you’re looking for. just as you’re about to put down your things and dump out the contents of your purse on the sidewalk your fingers find the keyring-

“getting into trouble, are we?”

you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden and unexpected voice from behind you, almost dropping the box and your found keys barely hooked onto your index finger in the process.

with a racing heart you try your best to think clearly, were you about to be caught? get arrested? god dammit, you knew you shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable with this dealing just in case you were caught in the open like you were right now.

“did i scare you? sorry about that, sweets.” his teasing tone doesn’t say he’s actually all that sorry.

in your hurry and the sudden fright you hadn’t registered the voice of the man behind you but the nickname is a dead give away. and now that you think more about it, who else would meet you here this early in this morning if not your number one customer?

“good morning satoru,” you greet, unable to hide the shakiness in your voice or the fact that your heart rate has not gone down since he made his appearance. you swore it was echoing in the quiet street, only growing louder when he comes into your view, his figure towering over you.

“what’s got you so jumpy?” his dark sunglasses may hide his playful eyes but you know it’s there and see that the smirk on his lips is devilish. “doin’ something you shouldn’t be?”

your breath hitches and slightly paranoid thought passes through your mind, making you fill with guilt and worry.. did he know?

“haha, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply but god you barely even believe what you’re saying. “i’m just trying to get to work and you show up out of nowhere,” not that it’s an actual complaint and you don’t sound the least bit mad. you liked seeing satoru very much.

he's got the looks of a man chiseled by the delicate hands of the gods themselves and it doesn’t help that he wears gorgeous, perfectly fitted suits and ties that bring out his already breathtaking cerulean eyes from under his snowy, messy undercut. he may be the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

he lifts an eyebrow, no doubt questioning your odd behavior and a little convinced you really were doing something you shouldn’t be but when he smiles wider, almost like he knows your secret or knows he’ll pry it out of you, you think you would spill it if he asked.

“you’re a terrible liar,” satoru says through his smile and takes the box from you, standing behind you as you unlock the doors to your little bakery and follows you inside.

you don’t mind him coming in before the bakery is open, it's not the first time and you're sure it wouldn’t be the last. it was a few months ago he wandered in dressed in a similar black suit that he’s wearing today and ordered one of everything you were offering. he's come in almost every day since then and spent enough money that his funds alone could pay for the rent on the shop but truthfully, even if he didn’t spend a small fortune here, you enjoy his company more than you’d like to admit out loud.

satoru places the box down next to the cash register and leans against the counter, silently watching you tie your apron over your light blue jeans and black shirt, preparing for the weekend morning rush.

aside from miwa, who was god sent working the front of the bakery, you basically run this place by yourself. you baked, you bought supplies, you balanced the books and dedicated your life to this bakery. a dream you shared with your parents once, one you hope they could be proud of had they survived that fateful day.

“tell me, what were you up to this morning?” satoru questions when you come to open the box from the opposite side of the counter. you pretend the shimmer of his beautiful eyes don’t affect you as he pulls down his glasses and flashes his baby blues at you, batting light lashes to try to get it out of you.

you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks under his flirtatious gaze, your heart hammering under his attention and his playfully sweet tone that might get any person to spill their secrets. “i told you - nothing!”

your denials are not convincing even to your own ears and his devious expression, still partly hidden by his dark glasses, told you he wasn’t believing a word you were saying but he knew he was close to getting what he wanted.

he was right before, you are a terrible liar.

“you can trust me,” he adds and your heart lurches like it believes him. “i won't tell. i’m just curious about what kind of trouble you’re getting yourself into,” he smirks, pulling off his glasses entirely, leaning in closer to you.

you can feel the butterflies from your stomach in your throat as you find it hard to speak with his scent filling your nose, his warmth palpable but still so far away. it's not fair, you think, he knows just how to fluster you and ever since you met him he’s been shameless in doing so.

what started out as compliments you thought was just him being nice, or just enjoying your baking, had turned into intense flirting starting after he showed up as you were locking up one night about a month ago and pleaded with you that he’d pay anything for whatever you had left over from the day. just as you do now, you found it impossible back then to say no to his charm and ended up spending the whole night at the shop talking over cake and mochi.

“come on sugar, tell me.”

“fine!” you break your gaze away from his and focus on the box, hoping you're hiding your burning cheeks well. after you’ve opened the box you grab his hand, putting the contents he wanted to know so badly about in his palm.

his mouth opens slightly, eyebrows knitting. “a mango?” he questions, looking between you and the fruit in cute confusion.

“yes, a mango that could get me into some trouble. it’s imported from africa, but it’s against customs so i buy them and some other fruits and sugars.. illegally,” you whisper the last word as if someone might hear you even though the shop is empty besides the two of you.

satoru chuckles in amusement but to your surprise, he doesn’t tease you. “why all that trouble for a mango?”

“for someone who eats the goods i bake almost every day you should be able to tell the difference from the other fruits i use versus other places you’ve been,” you tease, taking the fruit from him. “these mangoes are sweeter and creamier than ones you would get here. i’m hurt you can’t tell the difference,” you clutch onto your chest dramatically.

without skipping a beat, he says in an oddly serious tone, “i thought it was because you make them that they taste like that.”

it’s as if your heart is doing somersaults in your chest as you stare at him. god dammit, why did he have to be so adorable and handsome? you might be more happy about it if you knew he wasn’t like this with every pretty girl and handsome man he sees. you’ve seen it first hand with some of your other customers. it didn’t stop you from indulging a bit. his attention is nice and harmless flirting never hurt anyone. right?

the chiming of the bell above the door breaks the trance he had put you in and you’re thankful for the interruption before he was able to poke fun at your flustered state or see the crush you had on him written all over your face.

“morning miwa,” he greets your assistant and only employee.

miwa has gotten quite used to satorus presence in the bakery as well. not long ago she insisted that you should go out with him despite his flirty nature. ‘he’s so beautiful. i bet he’s strong too,’ she sighed dreamily before going on about how she could never go after him, as her heart was already spoken for, and you have his attention so you must go for it.

easier said than done miwa.

“morning mr. gojo,” she replies, pumping her light blue eyebrows at you when she passes by, as if to say ‘go for it girl!’ before disappearing into the back to clock in and get ready to help with preparations for the morning rush.

you roll your eyes at her and turn around to return to your own preparations.

satoru watches intently as you cut mangoes, mix dough, run into the back to place things in the oven and get the display case ready simultaneously. he’s sat and watched you prepare for the morning rush a few times by now but you still find the time to talk with him, admire him as he texts on his phone but quickly pull your gaze away when his eyes find yours, and reply to the other questions he has about your illegal activities.

where are you getting them from? you sure they’re trustworthy? how much are you paying? is this the only dealer you’ve worked with? and the questions go on and on.

“i thought you said you were a businessman, not a cop.”

you try to play it off innocent but a part of you is worried that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell him. you trusted shiro and whatever means he used to procure your imported goods and you know better than to tell anyone of him or what he does for you.

he hasn’t said it out loud but you’re not naive. your little deals are only small time compared to his normal business but he didn’t need anyone looking into him for any reason. you weren’t about to get in the middle of that or find out what the consequences might be if you did.

“i’m no cop,” he answers with a sneer. “just looking out for you, don’t want you to get ripped off.”

a small ‘oh’ comes from under your breath and you avoid his eyes. were you being too paranoid? maybe but you’d rather be safe than sorry in situations like this. after all the effort you put in for this bakery; all the money, sweat and tears you poured into this shop and your treats, losing them wasn’t an option.

truthfully you don’t believe he is a cop and feel the truth in his words when he says them, though you aren’t sure exactly what it is satoru does for a living but it’s better you not tell him of shiro.

“i appreciate that,” you mean it honestly despite your defensiveness before. “i shouldn’t say more though..” satoru may be attractive, easy to talk to and affecting your heart more than you want him to but indulging his curiosity to the full extent was not something you could do this time around.

the phone in his pocket begins to ring before he can reply. relief, you’re thankful to end this conversation quickly before he can press more.

he motions with his finger to give him a moment and turns the other way to stand closer to the door of the bakery. you focus your attention on the dough in front of you but it’s hard not to listen in when the shop is so quite.

“what is it? … this early? ... k, be there soon. … no, i’ll call him and we’ll meet you there.”

he doesn’t sound pleased when he hangs up and immediately goes to make another phone call but you don’t stay around to listen to what he’s saying. instead you slip into the back to get the pastries from the oven and put a couple in a to-go box for satoru.

he’s just getting off the phone when you return and searches his suit pockets for his car keys. “sorry sugar, duty calls.”

“as if i’d let you hang out here all day anyways,” you tease, coming around the counter to stand in front of him and hand him the togo box, stopping him when he reaches into the wallet. “it’s on the house today.”

his smile could melt your heart and it almost distracts you from the unreasonable amount of yen he drops into the tip jar; way more than what the treats you’ve packed for him cost.

“you don’t ha-”

“i’ll see ya later,” he gives you a wink before slipping his glasses back on and taking the bag from your with a brush of his fingers against yours, making his way out the door. “don’t get into too much trouble without me,” he calls behind him but doesn't look back.

you are trouble, you think, watching him leave and hating the disappointment you feel when his tall figure disappears into the distance as the bell chimes when it closes. you know you shouldn’t be falling for customers and especially ones such as satoru gojo at that- an undeniable flirt. you had your fair share of experiences with men like that in the past and normally stay far away from them but something about satoru has you unable to hold back and, even if it’s to your dismay, he knows just how to pull you in more.

honestly, he seemed rather shallow at first. nothing more than good looks, sweet words and money but the more time he spends around you the more mysterious and deeper he becomes, even still. you can tell he’s really dedicated to his work and works hard. he’s never said exactly what he did besides being a ‘businessman’ but plenty of times it called him away and each time he went without question, not without his dilly dallying. more than that, just today his comment about how he wanted to look out for you didn’t seem like the man you had first thought he was. he didn’t seem like the type to care about other people's business and if they’re being taken advantage of but you could tell he was honest when he said that, none of his normally teasing and playfulness behind his words.

“i don’t understand why you two haven’t gone out yet,” miwa breaks you from your thoughts, coming from the back with two large trays of jelly filled donuts, melon pan and other goodies to fill the display case with.

you sigh, overthinking about what could be if this were more than a little crush between a baker and her handsome customer with an insatiable sweet tooth.

would you say no if he asked? probably not. you doubt anyone says no to gojo. is it a good idea to go out with him though? you honestly couldn’t say.

it’s not that you were looking for commitment, being a small business owner took up most of your life and you were fine with that; living the dream you had since you were a child, fulfilling what you shared with your once complete family, meant more to you than falling in love. baking was the only love you needed; it didn’t leave and came in all sorts of different comforts.

you could always make something delicious that made people smile, that was a reminder of a bitter sweet past or a brighter future. like the first taste of a comforting treat after a long day or the familiar scent of a pastry shared by two lovers long ago. seeing those moments and more unfold because of what you baked was enough for you, it brought you happiness in its own way after so much of your own loss.

you aren’t even sure if you could handle a relationship, if it was in the cards for you, but maybe going out and sleeping with him, getting it out of your system would be the way to go. just maybe it would quiet or stop the bubbling feelings instead of you. or maybe it would make it worse.

but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about what lies underneath those designer suits and you know satoru thinks he plays it cool when you wear small summer dresses or plunging necklines and tight pants but you’ve caught those cerulean eyes lingering on your figure more than once.

the other side of this dating coin was going out with him and ending up falling for him; getting yourself caught in something you didn’t particularly want to be a part of. it’s not that you couldn’t put in the hard work that relationships require, though it may be hard to find the time but for the right person you would give it your all. but was it worth the potential loss? could you even handle any more loss?

satoru didn’t seem like the type to settle down and you weren’t interested in playing games with a man who liked to play them exclusively. putting your heart out there for more than just baking was easier said than done but there was always the possibility your heart didn’t need to get involved, despite how unlike you that was.

a part of you wonders if your heart is already wading deeper than the ankle deep waters of those unbelieve blue eyes.

none of it even matters though because he hadn’t asked you out and it would be inappropriate for you to ask him out as the owner of an establishment he visits frequently... or maybe it’s the thought that the rejection would hurt just too bad and then you’d likely never see him in your little bakery again, which seems much worse than the rejection, that stops you. your little flirtatious moments when he dropped by were enough, it didn’t need to be more. for your sake and his.

but a girl can still dream.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this shit right now. doesn’t he know it’s only eight in the fucking morning?”

“what the hells gotten into you this morning?” geto questions, tossing the black duffle bag into the back of the cadillac with a loud clunk and a slam of the door. there were no off hours with a job like this, both of the men knew that and accepted it, not that it stopped either of them from bitching every now and again but satoru was unusually irritated today. “you know the boss likes these things dealt with quickly.”

both men slide into the car, gojo behind the wheel and geto stuck with all the items left in the front seat by his companion. he tosses what he can in the back or sticks it in the center counsel but satoru can feel sugurus eyes on him the entire time.

he doesn’t look back at his partner as he turns on the car and puts it in drive. “there’s nothing quick about this.”

he knew suguru couldn’t argue about that. there was absolutely nothing quick about chasing someone that was already a full 12 hours ahead of you, even if you have good intel on where this problem may be. countless things could go wrong and there would be hell to pay if they couldn’t finish the job and bring back what was taken. not that he or geto are worried about that. they were chosen for this job because only they could see it through better than anyone else.

it makes gojo a little less sour knowing they asked him and geto to fix this little problem together since no one else was capable of handling it but he hadn’t had nearly his fill of asking about whoever it was his pretty little baker did illegal business with.

before he can think about his subconscious calling you ‘his’, satoru catches his companion opening up his white togo box full of an assortment of goodies and immediately puts the car back into park after not moving an inch. he wasn’t going to get a chance to stop for more treats while on this mission so he’d have to make them last and he wasn’t planning on sharing anyways.

“these are mine,” satoru reaches over and shuts the lid over sugurus fingers, moving the box to his lap aggressively.

“what? are you five years old all of the sudden?”

“shut up. she made these for me and i’m not sharing,” he reaches into the box not caring what he grabs out because no matter what it was it was bound to satisfy his craving.

bite sized mango turn over, and damn were these illegal mangoes good.

he can’t help but smile at the memory of you all sweet and guilty. worried over illegal mangoes. your innocence is so cute. he didn't know what kind of trouble to expect you to get into but that was not it.

gojo knows suguru recognizes the mochi and sakura leaf logo of your bakery, various boxes and containers were always in his apartment or car and gojos raved about your cakes and mochi like it was made of gold. he made geto try it so could he understand the craze from his best friend who has no impulse control and a sweet tooth from hell but satoru also knows he’s dropped plenty of hints he thinks you’re attractive as well so it’s no wonder he keeps going back.

“she makes them for everyone, dumbass. that’s her job.”

“i’m still not sharing.”

“a paloma and extra shot of tequila, please,” you order before your butt even hits the cushion of the bar stool.

slumping into the seat you close your eyes and let out a long exhale. it’s been a long and exhausting few days with miwa on vacation with her boyfriend, kokichi, and you running the bakery by yourself. she works so hard, puts in so much effort for your little shop so how could you say no when she asked for a few days off for a get away with her beloved? she was sweet enough to plan her vacation on weekdays instead of the weekend too so that you didn’t have to suffer the weekend rush by yourself.

you don’t remember the days before miwa being this busy and exhausting but business had grown a lot since then. it might be time to look for additional help but that would have to wait for another day when you could go through the shop's finances and see if you could even afford it on top of paying miwa what she deserves.

tonight, all you want is something stiff to help let all that stress slip away before you head home and get ready for another solo day.

the bartender puts your peach colored drink and shot glass in front of you without a word and walks to the other side of the island to attend to a couple who arrived right before you. you don’t come to the bar often, never really finding the time and not really having anyone to go with but when you do decide to come out by yourself, you always come to the light ox bar. it’s quiet and modern, playing all your favorite songs over the speakers and the bartenders are generous with their drinks, lowkey enough to wind down after a long day and it’s right in between your apartment and the bakery.

you quickly take the shot, the clear liquid burning your throat, though not unpleasantly, on the way down. oh yes, this was exactly what you needed before getting back to grind tomorrow.

“haven’t seen you here in a while,” a familiar deep voice comes from behind you after a few minutes of nursing your drink in silence, stewing over issues that you wish you could have left at work.

toji fushiguro, a man you met at this bar two years ago and have only ever seen at this bar. very handsome and equally mysterious. you know only 2 things about the man; his name and that he loves to drink whiskey.

at least those are the only things he’s confirmed about himself, you’ve speculated other things plenty. you don’t know his age; he’s older than you for sure but not quite old enough to be the age your father would have been and not quite young enough to be your brother. the scar on his face and his muscular build had you guessing he’s ex military or police but his personality doesn’t quite fit either occupation.

he’s not married or if he is he doesn’t wear a ring or say anything about his spouse. he ‘s hardly told you a thing. you don’t mind not knowing much about him though. he may say otherwise but you know he’s a decent guy. he’s been good company on some hard and good nights; scaring away a few unwanted suitors and listening to you rant or talk about whatever's on your mind but never judging you for it.

he’s been one of the only people you’ve opened up to about your past, your parents demise, why baking even matters so much to you.

“yeah.. the shop’s been keeping me pretty busy,” you admit, sitting up straight in your seat but not turning to face him. you stare into your drink, stirring the ice with the small black straw, watching the droplets of condensation soak into the coaster as he takes a seat next to you.

out of the corner of your eye you see him sip on the golden liquid in his glass and smile. “means business is good then, yeah?”

“it’s good,” you reply, though your tone doesn’t sound like you’re happy about it and toji quickly catches on.

he lets out a quiet huf, moving in his chair to rest his elbows on the glass counter top of the bar and looks over at you with dark emerald eyes. “you don’t sound too happy about that.”

i am happy about it.. right? you ask yourself while taking another sip of your drink. yes, successful business was what every business owner hoped for, what your parents hoped for. you had to be happy about that. what you weren’t happy about was the exhaustion, the long nights, the loneliness despite being around customers all day, the fact all you think and worry about is your business. baking was the way to get out of reality but it’s hard to feel like that on days like today when you didn’t have enough hands, money or time.

you force a half hearted laugh. “i am.. it’s tiring living and breathing business.. if i was able to just bake i’d love that but it’s everything else i don’t like. i don’t like having to worry about hiring people or about making rent on the shop or how to advertise or bring new customers in.. all that stuff, it’s not me.. not what i’m passionate about but there’s no one else to do it for me.”

you only ever do it because you have to in order to keep your bakery dream alive and normally you wouldn’t complain. responsibilities weren’t always things you were passionate about or loved to do, it was what you had to do no matter how you felt but it gets hard to put on a brave face when all you do is worry and stress about responsibilities, when it feels like it’s you against the world. you didn’t have anyone to lean on, no one to reach out to for help that didn’t require you to pay first.

you were.. alone.

as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, satoru provided you a small relief from all of this. he may not be able to help with the books and workload overwhelming you but he made you smile, made you laugh and loves your treats more than anyone else. it was a breath of fresh air in your busy work life to have him stop by, like a rest stop on a steep upwards hike where you can catch your breath and enjoy the view instead of worrying about getting to the top. he hadn’t been by the past few days though, not since saturday morning and, a little begrudgingly, you find yourself wishing to see him walk through the door and tease you to his heart's content. perhaps that’s got you in a bad mood too.

“too much responsibility for such a little girl?”

finally you turn to look at him with narrow eyes that shoot daggers into his side but it’s hard to stay too mad when you’re met with a smug ass look on his face. you playfully shove him in the arm and continue trying your hardest to glare at him but he’s got one of those smiles that rubs off on others and your toughness is broken though almost instantly.

“i’m an adult, alright?” a fact he already knows about you. “not some little girl who's too far in over my head.” though you're starting to doubt that slightly tonight. your business may be successful for now but maybe it was more than you could handle, more than you wanted to handle. were you ever meant to do this alone?

“anyone would feel like it’s too much if all they thought about was work,” he acknowledges and downs the rest of his drink. “sounds like you could use a break.”

“a break.. hell i’d even take a distraction just so i don’t have to think about it for a little while.”

you follow suit and drink the rest of your paloma in a few gulps, finally feeling the warmth from your first shot helping your body relax. a break, a distraction.. neither of those options seemed possible at a time like this. if you take time off you have to close the shop and then you don’t make money and then you can’t pay rent on the shop or your apartment or buy items you need or pay miwa. you want to cry just thinking about it. so many things relied on you working and trying to figure this all out. a few drinks before bed was the most of a distinction you could afford.

toji calls for the bartender and doesn’t say anything before he’s pouring tojis brand of choice whiskey and two shots of tequila. you sit in silence, feeling the alcohol warm your insides, and watch the bartender pour your drinks. you’ve always known toji came here a lot, every random time you’ve shown up he’s usually here but you’re still not used to how he doesn’t even have to order because they know him so well.

he slides you one of the shots and takes the other for himself, clinking them together before you drink them and put the glasses down in tandem. your worried, tired eyes don’t go unnoticed by him when you reach up to play with the ice from your paloma with a straw once more.

he leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his ankle on his opposite thigh, and washes away the taste of tequila with his whiskey. you can tell by the look on his face he’s not a fan of tequila and whiskey was not a great chaser but one shot wasn’t going to kill him.

“i could distract you,” he says too casually but implying too much for your liking.

your cheeks burn and you find yourself speechless under the gaze of his narrow green eyes through dark lashes.

“what? scared of me all the sudden?” he raises an eyebrow and the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly at the embarrassment on your face. like he was enjoying this embarrassed side of you.

“no!” you say probably too defensively and definitely too loudly but somehow you get your voice to quiet and slow. “it’s not that..”

you aren’t even sure what it is, what’s got you tongue tied and excited at the same time. you know toji to be cool and straight forward, he radiates the confidence of a man who gets what he wants, does what he wants and doesn’t let anyone stand in his way. so it shouldn’t surprise you that he’d say something as bold as this, as casually as he did. maybe it's the fact you can’t believe you’re actually considering taking him up on his offer.

“then what is it?” he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he uncrosses his legs and leans in closer to you, one hand on the back of your chair, the other still holding onto his glass. he’s giving you space to get away, tell him no but you don’t. he smells of cedar and whiskey; and right now you find it more intoxicating than the liquor in your system. “worried i wont be nice? you should know by now, i’m not a nice guy.”

✧˚ · .

you don’t even make it past the entryway of your apartment before toji's lips, hungry and primal latch onto yours, traveling down your jaw and to your neck, his black hair tickling below your ear. the weight of his chest pins you against the door, his strong hands grabbing onto your ass and lifting your feet off the ground in the process. you take the opportunity to encase him between your thighs, feeling his hardening cock against your clothed core.

it’s impossible not to grind against his length but toji is having none of it, using his forceful grip to still your eager hips.

the cold air on your neck when he pulls away from your supple, reddening skin has goosebumps littering your body. his eyes are dark and focused on your every moment, down to the heaving of your chest and the hot air escaping your lips; a predator locked onto its prey.

“eagerness will get you nowhere with me kitten, you’d better behave.”

you nod in agreement, unable to get the words out of your mouth as you fight for breath. you’d listen perfectly if it meant he’d distract you.

his lips find yours once more and your hands make their way into his hair, tangling in the soft black locks more and more with each deepening of your kiss. with ease he supports your weight and carries you from the front entryway to your bedroom, following your breathless instructions between devouring kisses.

your body meets the mattress with force, your hair scattering behind you, your legs remaining open for him. you stare up at tojis face in the moonlight coming from your window. he doesn’t look like the man you thought him to be under the dark, silvery night; his figure towering over your much smaller body and his intense gaze sends a shiver down your spine and wet warmth between your legs.

his defined core and arm muscles ripple and flex as he lifts his shirt off of himself, relieving the unexpected mural that is spread across his entire chest and arms; tattoos of black clouds and flowers and in the center of it all, a large red snake baring its bloody fangs.

your eyes widen, your mind thinking of all the times in media you had seen art like this on others and you can feel your palms getting sweaty. what had you gotten yourself into? swallowing the saliva caught in your throat, you ask, “a-are you in the yakuza.. or something like that?”

“something like that,” he admits, looking down at his tattooed body and then back to you. “have you changed your mind? i warned you i wasn’t a good guy.”

despite talking and drinking at the same bar with him for a few years, you may not know much about him personally but you never thought or got the impression he’s put you or would put you in danger. it’s not like you were planning to date toji anyways, dating a mafia member was out of the question but fucking one didn’t seem like the worst idea you’ve had. who even knew if you’d even see him again after this and truthfully you aren’t sure it’s worth overthinking.

no, you hadn’t changed your mind.

3 months ago

“you wanna stay for dinner?” yuki asks gojo as they both find their discarded clothes on the ground and redress.

annoyance immediately fills satoru. she always asks and the answer is always no. why must she persist each time he comes over? he had meant to stop this little fling they had going on a while ago but each time after a hard time at work he found himself at her doorstep and in her bed; he just needed something to take the edge off, something to remind him he’s more than a man who’s only use is to eradicate problems and people for this family. more than a tool.

yuki had been apart of the family for years since her father is a higher up in the organization. she knows about his and satorus way of life and was happy to provide satoru some kind of release; after all she benefited just as much while in between boyfriends and lounging around until she was needed by her father.

and even when they did fuck, satoru wasn’t in a relationship with her and he never would be so why play pretend and sit together for a meal like a normal couple?

he looks behind him at her, watching her tie up her long hair into a ponytail from the other side of her queen sized bed. she raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t answer.

truthfully he is starving but whatever yuki could cook, or order because she doubt she does her own cooking, was not what he was craving. he needed something much sweeter after the day he had.

“not really,” he grumbles and returns back to buttoning up his shirt.

“well i guess i better tell you now then,” she smooths out her baggy sweater and looks at him with an expression that makes him wonder if she’s happy or upset.

god, if we were together you’d think she was getting ready to dump me, satoru thinks to himself, trying to anticipate what news she might be breaking to him.

“my father is discussing an arranged marriage to help strengthen the ties with the kusakabe clan so.. we should probably stop whatever this is,” she motions between them with her hand.

perfect timing. it’s much easier on him for her to put a stop to it anyways. it doesn’t come as a surprise that she’d be married off either. the relationship between the kusakabe clan and the gojo clan are in the beginning stages of a conflict that could stop their business together entirely. they’re getting more and more fed up with the treatment from the gojos but satoru knows it would be quite a loss if they were to cut ties entirely.

“fine by me.”

she walks him to the front door, giving him a smile when she looks between his legs and then back up to his face, as if to say goodbye to his dick because he highly doubts she’ll miss him all that much and he can say the feeling is mutual.

“know of any good bakeries nearby?” he asks with cold indifference.

she gives him a deadpan look.

“are sweets really the only thing on your mind right now? right after denying having dinner with me too?”

sure, things were supposed to be casual with him and gojo could admit she never tried to make it anything more than that, offering dinner was supposed to be casual he’s sure. satoru isn’t the kind of guy who you wanted to date anyways, she had to have known that upon first meeting him and since then he has no doubt her opinion on that has only grown stronger since they started this thing.

she punches him in the arm, “you ass. i thought you were going to give me some sweet goodbye.”

there’s only silence as gojo awaits the answer to his question. it’s not like he was never going to see her again, he’d probably be at her wedding along with the rest of the family.

she sneers in response to his silence, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “there's one on the corner up the road. take a right when you get out of here and go up a bit, it’s by the park.”

unexpectedly to even him, he pulls her into him, blonde hair brushing against his ear with her tall height. a friendly hug and one that's reciprocated, though it may even be the first one they’ve ever shared.

“thanks for all you’ve done for me,” he says quietly, giving her a squeeze. “take care yuki.”

normally satorus body feels a little lighter after leaving yukis place but that isn’t the case tonight. even when he found himself balls deep he couldn’t shake the thoughts that plagued his mind. very rarely did he question his choices but tonight he wonders if he’s doing the right thing sticking with the family, following orders - albeit on his own terms - and doing everyone else's dirty work. did he even deserve a better life after all he’s done? at what point are you in too far and there’s no turning back, no second chance at happiness? since when did he even care? and most of all, had he doomed the others he brought into it thinking he was protecting them?

he doesn’t even know what happiness looks like at this point. he thought it was the money, power and rising through the ranks until he could have it all but the deeper he gets the more he dislikes it and is convinced this isn’t happiness and that no one, not even the boss, ‘has it all’.

it hadn’t always felt this bad and he’s sure tomorrow he might feel differently but for tonight, it keeps his shoulder slumped, hands bunched in his pockets and snowy hair covering his eyes as he walks down the street kicking rocks as he goes.

just like yuki said, on the corner of a strip of shops across from the park is a small bakery; pink sakura leaves and a small mochi emblem on the door leading inside. when another customer exits, the smell of vanilla and sugar fills the air around satoru and his stomach grumbles. he just might die if he doesn’t eat something sweet soon.

“welcome!” the blue haired girl behind the counter greets him before turning to help an elderly lady standing at the cash register.

it’s a cute little shop; small but manageable and easy to get in and out of. there are two tables and some chairs sitting by the big window with the shades pulled up, bringing in the lights in the street and from surrounding shops. a big display case is at the end of the counter white counter, some smaller display cases on both sides of the cash register, only a few more things of bread left in each.

gojo heads straight to the main display, not nearly as empty as the others but still telling of the good day you must have had. his eyes sparkle and his mouth waters at the tasty looking treats still inside. the purin looks beyond perfect; caramel glaze dripping off the top of the custard and onto the little plate like it was about to be a part of a magazine. assorted cookies, strawberry shortcake, dango and a little sign saying ask at the counter for mochi, with the flavors of the day listed.

“what can i get you?”

the friendly voice tears satorus attention from the baked goods and he’s met with the face of a woman that looks just as sweet as any of one of these treats. your sparkling eyes are illuminated by the lights of the display case, they are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen and your beaming smile is a sight for sore eyes; honest and kind. it helps him throw all his worries out the window, all that’s on his mind now is the pretty girl and sugary sweets in front of him.

everything looks so delicious, including you, how could he possibly pick?

“one of everything, please,” he says. he doesn’t have to say much to lay on the charm, he lets his eyes do most of that and it seems to be working.

your pink cheeks and surprised eyes only makes you look that much more adorable. oh, was satoru glad he made his way here tonight.

“e-everything?”

“everything,” he smirks. ✧˚ · .

satorus mouth waters just thinking about all the treats he ate that night while he makes his way to the bakery. he may buy one of everything again today since gas station candies were not cutting it for him these past couple of days while he was gone for work. nothing was the same as your pastries, no gas station clerk was as pretty as you or made him smile the way you did.

he couldn’t get to the bakery fast enough.

he also couldn’t be more disappointed about the line out the door once he arrives. this busy on a thursday in the early afternoon? he’s come by at this time before and it’s never been like this but he supposes he has no choice but to wait. as the line moves forward and he’s able to peek through the window he notices the shop is missing its blue haired cashier. you come from the back with a tray full of freshly baked cookies and an aura satoru swears he’s never seen from you before.

coming in as often as he did, probably overstaying more than he should but he couldn’t help and you never complained, meant that satoru got to see some sides of you most customers didn’t. he’s seen you frustrated and overworked, he’s also seen you in relief, amusement and content happiness. but even through all his flirting with you he’s never once seen the pleased smile that’s on your face today or the glow behind it; not even a little stressed with how busy it is and the fact you’re running things by yourself.

he’s seen this glow, this smile before - he himself has provided it to others - but he’s never seen it on you and it lights an unfamiliar, uncomfortable, feeling in his chest that he can’t swallow down.

it’s not necessarily that he was hoping you’d be sad in his absence. okay maybe he was, knowing you were missing him would boost his ego quite a bit. but he never thought he’d come back to see you basically illuminating the bakery in your after sex glow or that he would be annoyed about it.

you’re a grown ass woman. so what if you were having sex? why should that matter to him? you aren’t his girlfriend or even anyone he’s dating at all. it shouldn’t matter that he’s wondered before what you would look like underneath him or how pretty your face would be after he makes a mess of you. he made himself hold back because he wanted to keep coming back here and he knew if he fucked you and never asked you out again that would have to stop.

you haven't had sex yet because he made it so but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you like this because of somebody else. plus, he knows he could make you feel a million times better than whoever this guy was.

the line dies down as he walks in and he wonders if you spot him near the door behind others. either way, you are unable to give him your attention with the last dozen or so customers that remain in the shop waiting to be taken care of, himself being the last one. he approaches the counter just as the couple sitting at one of the tables near the window walks out, the door bell jingling behind them.

“hey satoru!” you greet with a smile that was somehow brighter than the one you had worn when he first saw you today. “it’s been a few days, i was starting to worry about you.”

so you were thinking of him in his absence? good.

normally he’d take off his glasses, showcase his ocean eyes but today he keeps them on, thankful the dark lenses would hide his deep stare that he’s trying to keep from you entirely.

like you were unsure if he heard your welcome, you try again and he catches the unsteadiness in your voice. “i’ve got some new cake i’ve been trying to perfect, it's german chocolate. want a piece?”

“you must have been getting lonely trying new recipes by yourself.” he can hear the hostility behind his words.

“i don’t really mind baking by myself,” you say and he watches you bite your bottom lip and look down before trying to meet his gaze again with more confidence, a flirty lace to your tone. “but having a taste tester is always better.”

a very unwelcomed image of someone else tasting you pops into his head.

“i’m sure,” he replies through a clenched jaw.

hurt is painted all over your face and he feels his chest tighten knowing he was the one that made it so but your expression, dropping down to his tie instead of his face, is quickly morphing into something more akin to shame and then confusion.

if he’s being honest, he’s feeling just as confused as you look.

satoru didn’t get jealous, he’d swear up and down he’s not even now and yet, the thought of you with someone else has his blood boiling. the thought that while he was gone another had your attention made him beyond irritated, left his heart beating out of sync.

what were you doing to him?

it’s not too late, he decides in the awkward silence permeating between you. after all he was satoru gojo; handsome, charming, funny and he already had you on his hook. he may have to stop coming by after making you scream his name in bed, he’s not one for second dates or these particular attachments, but it was worth it to satisfy this annoying sting in his chest and finally give into his desire.

he calls your name, bringing you from your own thoughts and when he finally looks at you without his glasses on, the way your eyes light up, a complete 360 from your previous expression when you were deep in thought, brings him to smile and leaves a comforting warmth pooling in his chest.

you were too cute and he couldn’t wait to eat you up, show you there’s no one better than him.

“may i take you out on a date this weekend?”

✧˚ · .

main masterlist | chapter two: maybe not so lonely ➮➮➮

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou saturo #gojou satoru x reader #family + loyalty au

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vldsideblog · 1 year

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I love the idea of young keith always suppressing his stims (cause of the system and stuff) until he sees Matt rocking back and forth as they’re working on homework together or something and asks about it.

He than realizes he can just sit on his floor and play with a fidget or something and he’s not going to get in trouble. He can walk aimlessly around the house mouthing the words to a podcast or song and the most reaction he’s going to get is Shiro wondering how he’s not getting dizzy from walking in circles for so long.

Keith learning he’s allowed to be neurodivergent and he’s not going to get yelled at for showing autistic traits or being hyperactive due to his ADHD. That he can wear his headphones as much as he wants and be picky about food.

Just neurodivergent Keith guys.

#vld #keith kogane #voltron #voltron legendary defender #keith voltron #keith headcanon #character headcanons #hcs #broganes #autistic keith #galra keith #Keith has adhd #Matt holt #adam x shiro

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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months

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Alright hear me out.. Jonggun x a big deal member reader.. 🫣 like, both of us hating each other to guts, but somehow an odd feeling causes us to desire to spend time with each other etc while not even knowing the reason, and once gun feels close enough to us to inform us about his Yakuza clan and his whole shiro oni side, it turns out we were actually gun's childhood friend back then 🤭

Anon. You'll be the death of me. Apologies for the delayed response as usual! I started this today with a small idea. Came back to it tonight and 2k words later, it's now nearly 2am. I... I think I really like this. Let's sleep on it anyway. Hope it hits the spot and thanks for requesting!

Gun Park x Big Deal!Reader: Yamazaki Yuzuru

G/N. Enemies to lovers. (...Childhood friends turned enemies to lovers).

Cynics would say you sold your body in a different way, although you hate to think about it like that. You suppose that it may seem so for someone on the outside looking in.

Big Deal is famous for its passion, its romance. You never thought it applied to you. Not like it did to others.

The first time you meet on Big Deal street, Gun studies you. Gaze hidden under his sunglasses, curiosity piqued as he wonders who you are.

A sea of gangsters but your face sticks out like a sore thumb. Familiar. Like a distant memory just out of reach, like trying to recall a dream.

Notices your scar-littered knuckles faded silver with time. Hardly unusual for gang members yet Gun still peers down at his own hands.

They're similar. Almost matching. A pair.

Ever watchful eyes burn into the side of your head.

When you turn in his direction, you know for certain he is only looking at you.

Age old scars start to itch. Absentmindedly, you scratch at your hands.

Gun asks for your name during your second meeting.

"Who are you?"

Jake Kim frowns, searches your face for a reason why he would be asking you. Why he would be taking an interest.

You give your boss an imperceptible shrug.

"None of your business," is all you offer. Clipped. Brusque. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for Big Deal by outright ignoring him.

What you mean to spit is fuck you.

What you mean to scream is I want to kill you with my bare hands.

You don't look at him today.

"Oh, this one is feisty," Goo Kim steps forward, duffle bag of cash in hand and eyes roving over you with approval.

Trouble still finds you.

Jaw clenching, hands scrunching into fists; Jake ready to defend his crew-

Gun beats him to the punch.

"Let's go. The money is all there."

His blonde associate throws him an odd look. Nevertheless, they still leave. You're not sure if you've ever seen anything better than their retreating backs.

Big Deal survives for another day.

Your luck runs out on your third meeting.

Gun finds you when you're miles from Big Deal and alone. When the rain drenches the earth and the air suffocates. When instead of water bringing life, it brings an omen.

This time you have no choice but to look at him, glaring into his pitch-black eyes. Fear eclipsed by loathing as he holds his umbrella over you, downpour providing a shroud and shielding the two of you from the world.

A strange game of silence starts, neither of you wanting to speak first.

Minutes tick by. The feeling of hatred is tiring to keep up. Holding onto the anger at the surface drains you. Infinitesimally your gaze starts to soften until Gun's curiosity is mirrored in yours.

To your surprise, he cracks first.

He tells you he recognises the vitriol in your voice from last time, no matter how much you thought you had successfully veiled it.

(A tiny smirk, almost fond, graces his features as he is reminded of your animosity.)

Offers you a chance, an escape line, a tantalising small glimmer of hope for Big Deal to leave the four crews.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, he proposes, "You can have your freedom if you can kill me."

Oh?

The odds are not in your favour. You agree anyway.

You manage to land a hit on his left arm, even as he turns and deflects most of the damage with a roll of his shoulder.

Had it been successful, it would have left it limp and hanging. Unfortunately, Gun only seem inconvenienced at best.

Your next attack manages to break the skin on his cheek. You miss your mark, wanting to gouge out his eyes instead.

Still, seeing the trickle of blood pleases you.

Gun Park takes no prisoners. Aims to incapacitate at the best of times, if not to maim or kill.

The thrill and adrenaline surges once he notices the cut. Feels the blood rushing to the surface and it already swelling.

He lunges after you, launching an open hand strike straight for your chest.

Throwing up both arms just in time, you manage to negate most of the intensity of his hit. Even still, you are flung to the other side of the street and hard into the ground.

Death would have been on the cards if not for your quick thinking.

When Gun sees the crimson falling from your lips, you spluttering and winded, choking on your own blood and body barely able to move-

All he can think about is how intriguing it is that you are still breathing. How peculiar that you managed to defend yourself, like you had foreseen his move. How mesmerising that particular shade of red.

Gun doesn't kill you today.

He tells you you have failed and leaves you to wallow in your own humiliation. You watch his figure growing smaller into the distance and find no joy in this retreat.

Blood and sweat mingles with the rain, cold seeps into your bones. When you think all hope is lost-

You catch a glimpse of maroon beneath your nails. Even as your body lies broken and beaten, you think of how you have managed to spill droplets of Gun Park's own blood.

It's a pleasant thought.

The fourth time he asks again for your name.

You wonder how he manages to find you once more during heavy showers.

As if he is only able to venture out during storms, like a worm awakened with the pitter patter of raindrops and slithering out of wet soil.

Fitting.

Amused both at this and the audacity of his question, you chuckle at his tenacity. The action causes you to wince. Body still recovering, a result of your fight from last time.

Gun takes a step forward and you flinch away immediately. Worsening your injury, grimacing and groaning as black spots appear in your vision.

"Stop," he orders and you are tempted to do it again just to defy him. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. I'll ask you for the final time, what is your name?"

In no fit state to fight, loss inevitable even if you were, you finally give it up.

You tell him through gritted teeth and a seed is planted in his mind.

"And you know mine."

"Gun Park."

He loves the fury in your voice. He wants to hear you say it again.

Gun slams you into a wall during the fifth time. Pins your arms above your head as you thrash against his hold.

Desperately trying to regain your footing, regain your strength as he has once again bested you.

He leans into your ear, voice taunting and infuriating. "Y/N." Relishes the way your name sounds, "You've failed again."

You whip your head around, ready to do something, anything. Bile in your throat and venom on the tip of your tongue-

His face is centimetres away from yours, breath hot and your skin prickles.

Own breath hitching as he drops his eyes to your lips. Desire and hunger plain on his face.

He doesn't lean forward and you wish he did.

He lets you go and you wish he didn't.

You hate yourself for it.

Sleep becomes difficult. You lie awake at night and think about him. Replay the scene in your head.

Your self hatred builds.

Thoughts of what-ifs tiptoe through your mind during the day. Conjures up scenarios of what if Gun Park actually did brush his lips against yours.

You hate yourself more than you hate him.

Like a self fulfilling prophecy, it happens during the sixth meeting.

All fight dissipates from you as your traitorous mind wanders and strays.

Gun Park catches your fist. He doesn't shove you away. Sees your pupils blown huge with lust and slams your body into his instead.

Your lips crash together, all teeth and snarls. It is both everything and nothing like you had imagined.

The umbrella lies forgotten on the ground as he rams you up against a wall in a forgotten alleyway.

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes into you.

Meetings end in a stalemate.

Meetings end in more sordid alleyways. A quick and dirty sprint to the finish line.

In backseats, cramped and rushed and hot. Leather sticking to sweat slick skin, windows fogging up with steam.

In hotel rooms and tangled sheets.

In walks of shame at 3am.

In showers, exploring each other's bodies.

In baths with your back against his chest.

In his bed and waking up together in the morning.

You don't act differently when Gun Park and Goo Kim come to collect their dues.

But the bruises left by his fingers under your Big Deal uniform pulses and throbs.

You still hate yourself but you hate Gun less.

Seeing him reminds you of the way he moans your name. The additional scars you've scratched into his back. The way his hips rock against yours.

(When it's just you two, you can't bring yourself to hate him at all.)

You stay still and silent as Goo counts the bills.

Under his sunglasses, Gun always observes you.

"Where did you get these scars?"

Gun traces over your knuckles. Touch gentle and tentative. A far cry from your first contact.

Truthfully you can hardly even remember. It was another life. In the land of the rising sun, when you saw the world through childhood innocence.

You piece together what you can.

"I used to spar when I was younger. With another boy that was on my street..."

Eyes affecting a far off look, reliving what you can of your memory.

Snapshots of a small stature, below average for his age but lightning fast reflexes and a terrifying strength.

You were never a match for him. Not really. But he still insisted on seeing you everyday.

Training together. Developing a language of your own through punches and kicks.

Above all, you fought. But that small quiet boy, who talked infrequently, whose bite was just as bad as his bark gave you the first taste of something real.

"You lost more than you won." Gun's voice cuts through. You thought they were teasing words but- "Cried when he beat you and he would bribe you to shut up. Spent three summers together getting stronger until he had to leave."

Gun holds his own scarred hand up.

You remember the scar the boy got when you kicked him into the ground, how you bandaged it afterwards. Unravelling as soon as you wrapped it, handiwork sloppy and inexperienced.

The scars when you both would practice your punches, strengthening tendons wherever you could. On whatever surfaces available.

And one scar in particular: when you bit down hard on his hand after a particularly gruelling fight and refused to give him the victory.

How have you missed this? How has the string of fate managed to stretch across land and oceans and borders and years?

The fog lifts and the name slams into your mind.

"Yuzuru."

Gun kisses you, hand cupping the back of your head and other curling around your waist. Whispers your own name against your lips. The one you were born with. The one he used to call you.

A name you haven't heard in years, but he never forgot.

"Say my name again." His voice is rough, choked.

"Yamazaki Yuzuru."

He kisses you more fiercely than ever before.

The first meeting wasn’t on Big Deal street. It wasn't even in South Korea.

You didn't sell your body.

The Big Deal passion and romance flares within you. It just always belonged to someone else.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun #park jonggun x reader #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon #edit: yeah... this has shot to the top of my faves 🥹

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tothosewhoyearnforit · 1 year

Text

everything i like about chaehyun

-finally got down to writing again ! and there's a second part coming soon w the release of the giddy MV. just need to got thru it once and make sure everything seems okay and i'll be all set to release it. so sorry i haven't released much fics, writing blocks really stall me a lot.

(P.S. I havent finished my sullyoon fic so...)

-2 separate scenarios, oral, sneaky seggs, creampie, i love chaehyun lots

-1957 words

You’ll never forget the continuous fits of laughter, the questioning looks from your relatives and the amount of solitude you faced after making the decision to take fashion design instead of the more popular courses like engineering or finance. But you knew that any of your classmates from back then would kill to be getting sucked off by Kep1er’s Chaehyun in a props cabinet while the MAMA awards were still going on.

Sure your job was at risk, but you were known to be such a serious and consistent worker that it was hard to imagine that WakeOne would fire you.

“What are *guhk* you thinking *guhk* about oppa? Do my tits not *gawk* interest you anymore?” Chaehyun says, slobbering all over your dick, a fine mess of saliva and precum coating around her mouth and dripping off her chin, just like her purity.

“Of course not baby.”

That was the only answer. Otherwise you would never have gone so out of your way to get Chaehyun in this dress. It literally highlighted how well endowed she was on the red carpet. An elegant white dress, sleeved on one side and cut rather deep down the middle to reveal her cleavage, while the other supposed sleeve was cut such that her entire left arm was exposed, along with some of her breast.

“Was just thinking about something for a moment.” you calmly said, caressing her cheek with your right hand as her face bobbed up and down.

“I hope it wasn’t Xiaoting or Shiro you’re thinking of… You were staring at them like a fucking wolf.”

She lets your drool-slicken meat out of the comforting moist warmth of her mouth and strokes it with a tight grip to emphasize her slight discontent with your sudden spacing out session. It was such a power move. It was painful, sure. But it was ironically also pleasing, feeling 10 times better than what your own hands could deliver.

“Agh! Alright alright! Calm down Chae…”

“Hurry up! Manager-nim is going to come find us if we’re not back soon !”

“Yes, yes, this is like the millionth time you said that, as though you’re not the one who dragged me into this crusty, musty room as soon as you got back from the red carpet.”

You pick up the girl bridal style and place her on the leather couch lying in some obscure corner of the room. Then, you peel back the dress like a white cocoon to reveal the butterfly underneath, Chaehyun’s large mounds. You then position yourself on top of her and place your cock in the valley between her two mounds and automatically, Chaehyun knows to press both tits together, sandwichkng your cock between them. You then begin thrusting your hips, the beautiful mounds of flesh rippling with every time your cock emerges from her cleavage, rubbing against her collarbones. It’s a truly mesmerizing sight really. Super easy to lose yourself to your reflexes of just pistoning your hips to and fro as you admire every little thing about Chaehyun in this dimly lit room. Her perky breasts that gave you so much trouble when deciding what outfits to wear, her perky nipples that you were pinching and playing with, her perfect face whose eyes were staring sluttily at you.

She sticks out her tongue and tilts her head down. And now with each periodic motion, the head of your dick would come into contact with the warm moist muscle, delivering a whole new flavor of sensation to an already extremely pleasing dish.

“Paint my face baby.”

The sensory overload at this point was too much. One, two more thrusts and on the final emergence of your cock from the comforting vice grip of Chaehyun’s breasts, a torrent of cum flies onto her face; her nose bridge, her puffy cheeks, over her closed eyelids and onto her tongue.

“Fuck! Chaehyun!” is all that manages to come out from your mouth as you throw your head back, allowing your high to wear off.

Yet another moment of your stylist ingenuity has occurred, this time glazing Chaehyun in another white.

“Amazing as always Chae.” you say, finally dismounting her and handing her a bunch of tissues from your pocket.

Fast forward to about 2-3 months later, and it’s time for Kep1er’s 3rd comeback, Giddy.

Yet again, you find yourself stuck in a musty room, this time you know for sure that it’s a cleaning storage room. But you really couldn’t control yourself. Sure, you were the one who ordered all the baseball themed outfits, and they were all amazing. But Chaehyun, when she started posing for the photoshoot, she got into poses that were simply far too seductive, it was as if she was posing for you.

For the first pose, she raised her hands like she was stretching. Nothing spectacular, until she turns her head back to look at the camera and sticks her butt out. When the photo came out on the preview television, it was a masterpiece of a picture. Her slender arms were on full display, but they also helped to lift the baseball jersey up ever so perfectly such that her tummy was exposed from the front. To add a touch of maturity to the photo, she sticks out her butt and shows off her god blessed hourglass figure. God, you just wanted to go to town on that voluptuous butt she had.

Then, the next picture gets shown on the preview screen.

Chaehyun now had her hands behind her head, fingers running through her hair which now had silver streaks running through. Once again, the shirt moves up with her arm movement, revealing her tight midriff. The look on her face was one of pure lust and seduction, and when you turned from the screen to look at the girl, her eyes were locked onto yours, screaming to you, “Come get it.”

And so you did.

“Couldn’t control yourself huh oppa?”

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot Chaehyun.”

Her back was against the door as you ferociously dove into her mouth, engaging in a passionate kiss. The taste of her strawberry lipgloss is ever so strong on your tongue. In the meantime, your hands were reaching underneath the baseball jersey and under the bra that were struggling to contain her massive breasts, fondling with the fleshy mounds.

You turn her around, pressing her against the door as you push yourself up even more against her as she wiggles the butt you were admiring not too long ago against your enraging boner.

Then, in an act of pure horniness, you pull her pants and undergarments down in one fell swoop, and bury your face between the two cheeks of flesh.

“Ahh! Fuck! Oppa wait…! Slow down!”

But of course, you heed no attention to her pleas for you to slow down. The first thing that you do upon the access of her lovely moons in front of you, was motorboat your face within them. It was customary really. Whenever the two of you were alone in hotel rooms, you’d pounce on an unsuspecting Chaehyun and bury your face within her ass and smear her lewd scent all over your face.

The next thing you do is run your tongue across both her asshole and her slickening pussy, allowing your taste buds to coated in her taste. After that, you’d focus solely on her asshole, this time letting your tongue explore deeper.

“Ahhh fuck…” she whispers, trying hard to contain her pleasure inside this cramped cleaning room.

You’re so consumed in your hunger for her that you start pushing her buttcheeks up and apart for easier access, and after a certain point, all that’s supporting her is her leaning against the door as she pretty much sits on your face. Thankfully, she’s not a very heavy person. Or maybe you’re just really strong. Or maybe you’re just way too horny and your testosterone levels are absolutely going through the roofs.

“Shit ! This position is so..! Fuckkkkk!”

A shower ensues from above you as her squirt gushes out like an overhead water sprinkler. You lap up whatever golden nectar you can while she dismounts your face. Sweet. Just like her smile.

“Just fuck me already…I need your cock so badly right now…”

Finally, you’re able to free the shackled beast. In the blink of an eye, your pants and underwear are at your ankles. Chaehyun bites her lip and watches hungrily as your cock springs free. You line your rod up with her folds, rubbing your tip around, teasing her a bit, before repositioning your hands to hold her hips. Then, you slowly thrust your hips forward, cock slowly finding its way through her tight pussy.

A sigh of relief. From both of you animals in heat, carnal desires finally quenched.

Your hips automatically know what to do next. Withdraw, and repeat the same motion, this time faster. And with each thrust of your hip, she lets out a moan. Finally finding a satisfying rhythm, all that can be heard is Chaehyun’s controlled moans and the sound of her ass rippling as your hips collide with it.

“Fuck, Chaehyun. I’ll never get tired of this pussy. So fucking tight, every single damn time.”

“And it’s all yours daddy.”

A pet word. Something she had never used before in all your few years of knowing her. But it drove your mind insane, knowing that you had already placed a mark of ownership on her. She was all yours to use. Your little fuckhole. You sped up your thrusts, not following a rhythm anymore but chasing your orgasm. Soon, it was whimpers that came out of her mouth as the smacking of skin got faster and faster.

“Fuck ! Fuck ! FUCK !”

Your thrusts start to get more and more intense, her face and breasts pressing against the door, while her hands grip onto it tightly. It was lucky that nobody had come to find either of you, but that really wasn’t your main concern, you just wanted to plant your seed deep within Chaehyun. Looking down at the mesmerizing ripple of her cheeks, you take a hand and slap her left ass cheek hard.

“Annngh!”

A super lewd moan erupts from her mouth, and you’re sure anybody walking down the hallway could have heard this too. A red mark forms on the spot you struck her.

“You like that, slut ? You and you’re fucking beautiful ass, always tempting me.”

But Chaehyun can’t reply. She’s drooling on the door, her mind a flurry of pleasure. All that is coming from her mouth are moans and unintelligible mumbles.

You start to feel your climax reaching. And with three more deep, deep thrusts, pushing your cock as far as it can go into her alluring pussy. Her pussy clamps down on your cock and she cums yet again.

“Ahh fuck… So big…”

Your cock, on the other hand, deposits your baby batter deep into her womb.

“Take it all in, cumslut.”

You stay inside for a good while kissing Chaehyun’s back profile as she takes it all in. If you could, you would stay there forever, cock inside her comfortable pussy, but alas, you have to come back to reality.

Slowly withdrawing your cock, streams of cum flow out of her pussy and trickle down her thick thighs. She looks back at you and you know she’s about to do something slutty yet again. Her hand comes from under her and using her index and middle finger, she spreads her pussy open for you to see the complete mess you made inside her. She fingers herself a while before collecting your jizz on her digits and putting it inside her mouth and sucking them clean.

“Thanks, daddy.”

#chaehyun smut #kepler smut #kpop smut #male reader

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voltronisanobsession · 1 year

Note

Hiiiii. Im gonna request again bc i love your writing and want more. So I got this idea while watching the episode where voltron crosses into an alternate reality and they meet Sven and Slav. What if the paladins (specifically Lance, Pidge and Keith) and their s/o had a way of looking into some of their alternate realities (maybe Pidge creates a way to see their alternate realities) only to find out that they are soulmates and fall in love in every reality they exist in together…like BRO SOULMATESSSSS IN EVERY REALITYYYY??? Kill me with fluff plz thnx ❤️‍🔥🥹

Soulmates in all Realities

OMG WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD A SIMILAR IDEA BUT FOR ALLURA!!!! I actually really LOVE this idea, im a sucker for soulmates💔 I had a little trouble deciding how I wanted to format this, but I decided on just writing them out than doing hcs, I really did enjoy this, free therapy. ALSO I WANTED TO INCLUDE HUNK ALLURA AND SHIRO BUT IMMA DO THAT IN A DIFFERENT POST‼️‼️ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER💔💔💔

Lance

The team rushed to where Pidge had urgently called them to, wondering what could have been so important that she needed all of them together. Worried yet confused, murmurs sounded in the room as they all waited for the two final paladins to join them.

Shoulder to shoulder, Lance and you both animatedly spoke to each other, giggles and laughter bouncing off the halls of the castle, entering the room with dumb smiles on your faces. There was one thing that was special yet odd about your relationship, which was how fast and easily you were able to click with each other.

Despite only having met after rescuing Shiro when you all were back on Earth, Lances’ outgoing personality clashed well with your own, immediately creating a strong bond in the first few days of knowing each other. While it was strange for the others to see how fast you both grew close to each other, none of them really bothered understanding why this was the case.

Since knowing Lance, you have always felt a strong pull towards him, a feeling foreign from what the other paladins gave you. You had figured he was just the right person you met at the right time.

Lance however, knew from the second he laid eyes on you that you were different from any other person he’s met. He realized when he began talking to you that it felt more like talking to an old friend he’s known for years than an actual stranger he barely knew.

The chemistry between you two was obvious, and after some time you and Lance finally decided to clumsily confess to each other, leading us to the where we are now.

Everyone quieted down once you guys entered the room.

“What’s with the get together Pidge? We were on our third round of Hunks food.” Crossing his arms, Lance leaned his body against yours, causing you to stumble as you tried to keep your balance from his added weight.

Turning around, Pidge, along with Allura, both looked at the group with open and amazed eyes. “Remember how we were stuck in an alternate reality? I was able to save and keep a small piece of the comet when we were going to examine it! Allura and I weren’t able to do much BUT!”

She took a small mirror like object from the table it was settled on and showed it off.

“We were able to make this! Allura somehow was able to use her Altean magic to merge the comet into a functioning mirror, which can look into different realities! I’ve been messing around with it, this can look through realities based on whoever is holding it!”

The group stared in astonishment until Hunk spoke.

“Cool! Very cool, fascinating actually! But! How exactly is this gonna help us on our battle with Zarkon?”

“Uhh, not that much…” Allura sighed in defeat yet regained her energy.

“It’s really interesting though! When I looked through it, i was able to see myself in different lifetimes and different versions of myself! Thought we would show you guys as well.”

One by one, everyone looked through the small mirror, some smiling at the mirror while others showed conflicting looks on their faces. The mirror was finally passed to where you and Lance stood, eagerly taking it in your hands with excitement.

“Ooooh I wonder how I’ll look like!” You gingerly took the mirror into your hands, looking into it with eyes full of wonder. Once the image cleared on the crystal surface, you immediately recognized yourself in the center. Despite the differences your alternate self had, like your in hair length and unknown surroundings, you stared in amazement. Suddenly a new figure entered the mirrors image.

“Hey! Is that me??” Lance shoved his face next to yours, staring in shock as he saw the two versions of you holding hands and giving each other loving kisses on the cheek. This made you both flush as the group began circling around you, suddenly interested in what was happening.

Once yours and Lances’ face were displayed on the mirror, new images began appearing, each with the same reoccurring scene. In one reality, this Lance, whose hair was past his chin, held you in his arms, spinning you around. Another image flashed as you both stared in shock as you realized both of you were still together in this new reality as well.

Every new image had you guys in shock, eyes wide open until you finally decided to put down the mirror. A thumping had emerged during this time in your head, watching as Lance held onto his head in slight pain. At once, you already had an idea of what this meant.

“If you guys new each other in these different realities, it’s not any coincidence. Are you always going to meet in every universe?” The group stood in silence as Pidge spoke. You looked at Lance, knowing he understood as well from the look he gave you.

One full of pain and remorse, one of pure love. This was no mistake. The universe had always planned for you to be together.

“We’re soulmates.” You breathed out, the words feeling right and true to your heart.

“Soulmates.” Lance whispered, slowly beginning to smile until he lifted you up in the air, laughing with joy.

“WE’RE SOULMATES IN EVERY UNIVERSE!”

Pidge

Pidge fiddled with a mirror like object, watching its surface gleam under the bright lights of the castle. Huffing, she sat up and walked out of her room.

After barely escaping the alternate reality they went through, the group all had to take a breather from any missions.

Not only had Lotor gotten away with the entire comet, but Pidge has had this crushing headache that didn’t seem to go away no matter what she did. Not after meeting hers and yours alternate selves in that reality.

And it seemed that she wasn’t the only one affected by this as you have also complained about an agonizing throbbing in your head after the mission. It only got worse when you guys were near each other. Deciding it would be best to stay away for a while, you and Pidge reluctantly kept your distance in hopes the pain would go away.

But it was days like these that Pidge couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t bare with the nonstop throbbing in her head by herself. She knew it would probably make it worse, visiting you, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Walking down the long hallways towards your room, Pidge let her mind wander.

Seeing you and her, along with Slav and Sven, made her begin questioning just how little they all knew of the different universes that laid beyond their knowledge. Seeing the way your alternate selves clung to each other, protecting the other from danger, made her smile.

Despite the obvious difference in appearance and names, they really did resemble you and herself, which frightened her a bit. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that you both knew each in that reality and in your own, right?

The closer the young girl got to your room, the more apparent her headache became. Groaning, Pidge knocked on your door twice before she heard shuffling coming from the inside. Slowly you opened the door, eyes tired yet alert as you looked down on your intruder.

“I knew it was you the second I felt my head began hurting again.” Despite the weak smile you gave her, Pidge felt immediately guilty.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I just… I just needed to see you.”

Humming, you seemed to be thinking about something before opening the door fully, letting Pidge in. “You’re here already, might as well let you in.”

Pidge smiled and entered the room, immediately flopping on your bed and getting comfortable. You joined her, gently laying down to avoid making the pain worse.

The two of you laid in silence as you held her hand, enjoying each others company while trying your best to ignore the consistent throbbing that wouldn’t go away. It was until you noticed the mirror in her other hand that you finally broke the silence.

“What’s that?” Eyes drifting to where you were looking, Pidge raised the mirror so you can properly see it.

“Remember the comet piece I took for examination? I forgot I had it, so I decided to see what I could do with it.”

Pidge placed it in your hands.

“Those Alteans said that with the comet, they would be able to travel to different realities, so I thought ‘might as well make a mirror to see into other realties.’ I don’t if it works though. I wanted to try it with you.”

Looking at her with wide eyes, you began smiling. It always fascinated you how Pidge’s brain worked. Shuffling up into a sitting position, you dragged her up as well.

“Alright well let’s try this together.”

Not really understanding how to use the mirror, you turned it around until just staring at your own reflection. Suddenly, both of you watched in amazement as the mirrors image slowly warped to a different one.

“What’s happening?” The question was left unanswered as the image slowly cleared up, showing two familiar faces.

In the mirror, it showed what appeared to be you and Pidge, sitting at a table drinking something from their mugs. Their surrounding was unfamiliar, but the smile on the alternate version of yourselves captivated the two of you. Suddenly the mirror began flashing images quickly, each showing different versions of yourselves in alternate universe.

“How-”

Pidge was cut off by a striking pain going through her head. You quickly dropped the mirror, hands going to clutch your head as you whimpered in agony.

Images and scenes flashed through your heads, memories flashing quickly before you could even comprehend what was happening. Whispering from the memories echoed through your head, sounding much louder as your heart beat sped up.

These weren’t your memories. Yet all of them showed you in them. Dressed in various styles of clothing, hairstyles you’ve never had, all the images had your face in each one. And with you, there was one other person present in each memory.

Finally the intense flashbacks came to an end. Huffing, you brought a shaky hand to your mouth to cover the soft sobs that came out of you. It’s not every day your forced into remembering everything from your past lives.

Your eyes slowly drifted to where Pidge now laid starring off into the distance, watching as tears slowly fell down her face. Pidge turned her head towards you, reaching out her arms. You quickly pulled her into a crushing hug, emotions too strong for either of you to speak a word.

“I didn’t think we would find each other in this life time too.” Pidge whispered, her grip unrelenting on you. You let out a watery laugh.

“I guess the universe always planned for us to meet.”

After all this time, the pain that had bothered the two of you finally disappeared, leaving only two found soulmates in its wake.

Keith

“Keith do you know where Y/N is?”

Interrupted from his cleaning, Keith looked up from his blade to look at Pidge. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, I don’t. Is something wrong?”

She raised a small object from her side and showed him a mirror. Keith looked at it, glanced at Pidge, then back at the mirror.

“You want to show them a mirror?” Pidge nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! But I can’t find them anywhere. I was wondering if you can, you know…”

Keith finally understood why the short girl came to him. Sighing, he put down his sword and the small rag he was using and got up. He began walking towards the door with Pidge following after him.

Keith had this special… ability. No matter where you were, he always knew where to find you. It was difficult to explain to the others at first, trying not to sound creepy, but as time went on they were able to see what exactly he meant.

Since meeting you after saving Shiro all that time ago, Keith felt this strong pull towards you. Quite literally, it always felt like he was pulled towards your direction as there were times where he would wander around the castle only to see his body led him to where you were.

This happened so often that you even began noticing whenever Keith was around, even if you didn’t see him. But when you told him you didn’t feel the same intense pulling, he thought there was something wrong with him.

It didn’t last long though once he realized you could read him like an open book. Whenever he was upset about something, you would always happen to stumble into him and just know. Like something wrong was happening with him.

He was never able to lie to you about how he was feeling. Not when it seemed like you could look past all the walls he put up. When you could see through all of his confused emotions.

So that’s how you two were able to build up your relationship, him running to you whenever you were in trouble and you knowing whenever something was wrong during an intense mission, just by your gut.

“You know, I always wondered how you know where Y/N is.” Pidge broke the silence causing Keith to look down to her as he continued his walking.

No matter how many times he tried explaining it to the group, they couldn’t fully understand the science behind it.

“I mean. It’s like a force is pushing me to Y/N. My body just knows where to go.” Keith sighed. It was hard even for him to explain.

Pidge let out a thoughtful hum. The two continued down the long halls until they came to a double corridor. The young girl stepped up.

“Wait! Lemme guess which way she’s at!” Rubbing her chin, Pidge pointed to the right hallway, looking at Keith with a smile.

Keith let out a small smile of his own as he headed the opposite way, Pidge letting out a groan as she followed him through the left corridor.

They soon arrived to the hanger where the lions were all recharging. Pidge furrowed her eyebrows as she didn’t see you anywhere.

“I think your Y/N radar is a little off.” Keith rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have an ‘Y/N radar.’” Walking up to the Black Lion, Keith furrowed his eyebrows once again, wondering what you were doing in his lion. Pidge stood beside him confused as she didn’t know you were inside the lion.

“Y/N?” The boy called out for you, only waiting a few moments before you came jogging outside to see both him and Pidge. You smiled at both of them.

“It never ceases to amaze me how your radar works.” Pidge walked up to you as Keith let out a noise.

“It’s not- ugh whatever.” Keith walked up to you as well, placing a gentle hand on your back, the nonstop pulling settling at last.

“What’s up guys? Did something happen?” You looked confused as Pidge smiled at you with Keith shrugging his shoulders.

“Look what I was able to do with the comet ore I had!” You looked at her with wide eyes.

“Wait you still had some of the comet with you?!” The girl nodded quickly.

“Yup! Allura said I could use it since it was too small for her and Coran to make anything useful with it so boom! I made a window to see into other realities.”

“You make that sound like a normal thing to do.” Keith grunted out as his hand rubbed your back.

Hitting him with your elbow, you rolled your eyes and took a seat on the ground, beckoning her to join you. Once she told you how it worked, she handed you the delicate mirror.

“I wanted to show you first before showing the others. I was able to see myself in other realities and I just found it so AMAZING!”

Smiling, you looked up to Keith who was still standing and patted the spot next you. He hesitantly sat down, his leg touching yours.

“Let’s see if we’re together in these realities.” You joked, causing Keith’s face to warm up and Pidge to gag in the background.

Placing the mirror in front of your face, you and Keith watched in awe as an image slowly began appearing. A foggy figure stood in the center of the mirror, clearing up to reveal you. Or a different version of you. Despite having your face, this version of you looked completely different! You weren’t human in that universe.

“Are you seeing this! Woaaahhh!” You were so enraptured by what you were seeing you barely noticed the new person entering the image when you faced the mirror to Keith.

There walked in what seemed to be a Galra? Yet this Galra had Keith’s face and smile. You quieted down, feeling Keith clutch onto your hand, urging you to bring the mirror closer to him. There you both watched as your alternate versions talked to each other with a soft look in their eyes. The image soon changed showing many different realities of yourselves, each of them with each other.

The mirrors images soon faded only showing yours and Keith’s faces staring back in shock. You slowly placed the mirror on you lap and looked towards Keith. He was staring at the object in your lap still until he felt your stare.

His eyes made contact with yours and then it all suddenly clicked. Why he felt a pull towards you. Why you were able to read his mind so easily. In your reality, you two were always meant to meet.

“I guess we’re…” Keith hesitantly spoke still staring into your eyes with a newfound happiness.

“Soulmates?” You let out a small chuckle of your own cupping his cheek. After the word left you mouth, you felt something twist inside of you. And just like that, a flood of emotions crashed down on you as you felt Keith’s love, confusion, happiness, and fear merge with your own.

You smiled and he smiled right back.

Pidge looked between the two of you in shock and confusion.

“WAIT WHAT?! SOULMATES??”

Both of you looked at her in shock as you guys forgot she was there too. You looked at each other and then laughed at her confusion. Time to tell the others.

#Lance x reader #pidge x reader #keith x reader #voltron x reader #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #katie holt #Keith kogane #vld x reader #voltron legendary defender #soulmates #x reader #vld

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starstruckkittensweets · 2 months

Text

puppy love (ii)

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

Another part to the Chuuya with puppies series! Honestly it's been pretty therapeutic to write this out and plan out future parts. I don't really have any kind of direction for this series, it's just for fun and I write when I get inspired! But luckily my love for Chuuya isn't going away anytime soon, so you can look forward to more. I hope you enjoy!

warnings: fem reader, pet names ("doll"), rambunctious puppies who just wanna play, mutual pining perhaps (if you squint) || words: 2.6k

Part I | Part II | Part III

The next time you see Chuuya, you’re on your way home from the vet—with Kotaro, Pochi, and Shiro in tow.

Kotaro’s the first to notice him. His ears shoot forward, nose pointed straight in the cool night air, and he gives a hard yank on the leash in your hand. You start to scold him, but the words die on your tongue at the familiar sight of orange hair and bright blue eyes.

The really pretty eyes you haven’t stopped thinking about for the last few days or so. (As embarrassing as it sounds.)

Kotaro tugs hard on the leash, nearly ripping the thing right from your grasp, his tail swishing from side to side. He’s not the only one who’s noticed your new friend; Pochi is sniffing the air, trying to catch the stranger’s scent, while Shiro is digging his paws deeper into the ground, eyes fixed on the newcomer’s every move.

“Sorry,” you manage a smile, despite wrangling all three dogs back under your control. (It’s hard not to get the leashes all tangled up.) “They can be excitable sometimes—I didn’t expect to see you again so soon…”

To be honest, you thought he’d forgotten about your little meetup for lunch altogether (if his attire is anything to go by, he’s a busy man with a tight schedule). The sight of him now makes your chest feel warm, your fingertips buzzing around the handles of Kotaro’s leash.

You don’t even know his name; to you, he’s just the nice stranger who brought your dog back home to you that fateful night.

But that’s plenty enough for Kotaro, who’s scrabbling against the sidewalk to the man’s outstretched hands. You really should invest in some retractable leashes. Then again, Kotaro would probably just break them in two.

Not like Pochi and Shiro, who wait patiently at your side, despite their own curiosity.

“Out for a walk, huh?” The man lets out a chuckle, even as Kotaro presses his dirty paws against his knees. “Hope you’re not causin’ your girl too much trouble.”

“Not that much,” you mumble, cheeks burning beneath his gaze. “…Is it okay if the others say hi?”

There’s a sparkle in his eye, the same one you saw the first night you met. Something that reminds you of the children you pass on the street, the ones who pull at their mother’s arms, begging to let them pet the puppy by your side. Strange to say you recognize that kind of look on a grown man’s face, but it seems to suit him all the same.

Makes his eyes look so much prettier than they already are.

He slips a glove off and crouches down to the dogs’ level, while simultaneously trying to push Kotaro off him. Pochi’s the first one to step forward, his nose twitching almost violently. Shiro hangs back, pawing at the ground before plopping his bottom right down on your shoes.

You stifle a laugh at the bulldog’s expression. My human, don’t come any closer.

“Sorry about that!” It’s hard not to smile at the man’s baffled expression, at the way Shiro’s practically glaring at him from his spot in front of you. “He’s a little protective. But I promise he’s a sweetheart once you get to know him.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I get it.” And he actually does, by the way he only focuses on Pochi and Kotaro, taking turns scratching them behind their ears. Giving the grouchy bulldog some much-needed space, only smiling at him over the other dogs’ heads.

Huh, that’s a first.

How many times have you had to shoo an eager child’s hand away or scoop Shiro up in your arms just to keep him safe? Shiro’s a rare case, comfortable with dogs but a bit uneasy around most humans. And it’s hard to find people who acknowledge that and just leave him be. No poking or prodding, or pulling on his stubby little tail and risk losing a finger or two. And that’s the last thing anyone wants.

“Just one pet wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“Not a fan of people? That’s kinda strange…”

“He won’t bite me, right? You shouldn’t have him out in public if he’s aggressive.”

The man’s voice jerks you from your thoughts; he’s too fixated on Pochi now, smiling as the beagle kisses his cheek, so much that Kotaro is starting to look a bit jealous.

“What’s his name?”

“Pochi,” you answer with a smile. “You already know Kotaro. And this big boy is Shiro.” You lean down to rub the bulldog’s chest; he grunts and leans into your touch, all the while keeping his eyes on the man before him. “Sorry about them, they can get a little excited.”

Quite an understatement, judging by the bits of dog hair flayed across his black suit. He swipes a hand through his hair, and your eyes linger on the frayed orange strands just a little longer than they should. Until his voice snaps you out of it, as his blue gaze flickers up to meet your own.

“Only three today? Thought you said you had eight of them.”

It’s hard not to smile at his words. He remembered that, huh? “The others are back at home. These three had their check-ups at the vet today. I’ll have to bring the next three in sometime later this week.”

“Only a couple at a time, eh?”

“Yeah, I’ve tried taking all eight of them at once—it was not fun for anyone, except for maybe this little mess.” You lean over and scratch Kotaro behind the ear; the dog looks pretty damn proud of himself as you recall that stressful memory.

But before you can say anything else the man rises to his feet, tucking his hands into his pockets, but not before giving Kotaro and Pochi one last pat on their heads. There’s a soft pang in your chest; is he leaving already?

“A little late for a vet appointment, isn’t it?”

You shrug, your eyes falling to the ground. “I gotta work around the shop’s hours. We don’t close until seven, and it takes about an hour to get these guys all leashed up and ready to go. The vet the next block over doesn’t mind, though. He even knocks a bit off the price whenever one of the dogs is sick. And sometimes it’s nice, being the only ones in there. You don’t have to worry about any other dogs or people over there.”

Are you rambling again? Probably, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At least he doesn’t make it noticeable, with the way he’s looking at you.

“This a usual thing for you, then? These nighttime walks?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you answer with a giggle. “Any major shopping or appointments don’t get done until after work. I’m used to the late hours, though.”

The man hums in agreement, but his eyes tell a different story. Slowly he takes his hands back out of his pockets, eyes roaming the ground before landing back on your own. You swallow the lump in your throat (that definitely wasn’t there a few minutes ago).

“You sure you’re safe out here at this time of night?”

Another shrug, albeit a little more hesitant than the one before. “As long as I’ve got these guys, I think I am.”

He huffs out a breath, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. An uneasy silence settles over the two of you, only broken by the sound of Kotaro’s whining. He wants to get back home.

They all do, by the looks of it. A trip to the vet always wears them out. Not to mention, they’ve been hard at work guarding the shop all day. Being the faithful watchdogs you’ve trained them to be, alerting you whenever a new face shows up at the door.

(Not really, but you let them think they’re helping. It boosts their morale, lets them know they’re appreciated for all their hard work.)

“Let me walk you home,” the man finally says. “Just this once, alright?”

Maybe it’s the adorable wagging of Kotaro’s and Pochi’s tails, or the way Shiro doesn’t outright growl when the man steps closer to you, beckoning you closer with a gloved hand and a gentle smile. Or perhaps it’s the way you try to hold back a yawn, only to fail in the most unattractive way possible, as the weight of the day finally comes crashing down on your shoulders. For the first time since you woke up this morning, you realize just how damn tired you actually are.

Whatever it is, it has you nodding your head almost eagerly, your lips pulled up in a sleepy smile. “Sounds good to me.”

The walk back home is surprisingly comfortable, despite two of the three dogs yanking hard on their leashes. The friendly stranger keeps to the outer half of the sidewalk, a protective barrier between your dogs and the looming road ahead. The two of you are lost in your own little world, making casual conversation here and there, ignoring the skeptical looks of the few passerby’s out on a midnight stroll.

And by the time you see the dim lights and rickety old sign of the shop, you’ve learned three things about your new friend.

First, his name is Chuuya. He says it with a smile, orange hair falling into his face. It prompts you to share your own name, and hearing it roll off his tongue in that slightly raspy voice of his sends a shiver down your spine. (You decide then and there you like hearing your name fall from his lips.)

Second, he’s fairly wealthy. He doesn’t say it outright, but he doesn’t exactly make an effort to hide it either. From the way he dresses to how he casually mentions different brands and flavors of wine—names you’ve only ever seen next to their outrageous dollar amounts in the store. But at least he doesn’t seem snobbish about it. He doesn’t turn his nose up at the less-than fortunate state of the shop you run. Hell, he even turned down the promise of some quick and painless money just for bringing your puppy back to you that night, when most people would’ve jumped at the idea of a financial reward. Or maybe that’s just the way he is? You’re undecided about that for now.

And third, and probably most importantly, he wants to adopt a dog of his own sometime in the future.

“That’s…great! Amazing, actually! We have a lot of dogs back at the shop, it’s more of a makeshift shelter than a pet store, though. I don’t really like that term, pet store—sounds too cold and distant, right? Anyway, it’s nothing too official, none of them are really purebreds so we don’t have to worry about too many legal troubles. But if you don’t mind, you’re more than welcome to visit and see the rest of the pups. Get to meet them and see if you wanna take one home with you!”

Of course, it’ll be hard letting go of one of them. But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Taking care of these dogs until they find their forever homes. Nothing’s permanent, it never has been. But it’s been quite a while since you’ve come across someone who’s interested in adopting a former street dog, sometimes it just slips your mind. You have to remind yourself it’s only a matter of time before you have to say goodbye to them.

Except Kotaro. You’ve got dibs on the shiba.

Chuuya doesn’t interrupt your little speech, but he’s not ignoring you either. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time, only pausing to steal a glance at the dogs at your side. He still keeps his distance from Shiro, who’s lumbering at your side at a steady trot. Pochi won’t stop pulling on his leash trying to get closer to him, and Kotaro’s tail hasn’t stopped wagging ever since you started your walk back home.

Honestly, he’s kind of impressed you’re able to hold a conversation while keeping a hold on three rambunctious dogs. However fun they seem to be, they all look like they’d be a handful to take care of.

“…Well?” You’re staring at him now, eyes wide and hopeful, holding your breath as you wait for his answer. “I know it’s a little late in the day now to meet them all, but what about tomorrow?”

And maybe the prospect of seeing Chuuya again so soon has you on edge, but in the best possible way.

But then he’s shaking his head, holding up a hand, and you feel your chest deflate just a bit.

…Okay, maybe a lot, actually.

“I’d love to, doll, believe me… But adopting a pup ain’t in the cards for me anytime soon.”

“Oh…that’s a shame…”

He winces at the pitiful look in your eyes, the way your shoulders sag slightly—for the love of God, even the dogs look disappointed in him. Kotaro’s ears are drooping, Pochi hangs his head, and Shiro gives a disapproving grunt under his breath.

No fucking way these dogs can understand us.

“I-I mean, not in the near future,” he says quickly, trying to remedy the situation. Trying to make you smile at least one more time tonight. “I’d still wanna meet ‘em, though, if you’ll let me.”

Right on cue you’re giggling again, and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Sounds good to me! Just drop by whenever you can, the doors are always open.”

As tempting as it is to stay out here and talk with him just a bit longer, exhaustion is weighing you down. The dogs have to be tucked in for the night, and you have to get a few hours of sleep before the shop opens up early tomorrow morning. Or would that be later today? It’s already past midnight, isn’t it?

“C’mon, boys.”

Thankfully, none of the dogs put up much of a fight. Pochi holds his head high as he follows you up the steps to the door. Shiro sticks close to your ankles and practically snubs Chuuya with a grumpy snort. Only Kotaro lingers long enough to get one final scratch behind the ears, and then he’s joining you and the rest of the dogs with a soft happy yip.

Your chest feels unnaturally full as you unlock the door and let the dogs inside. But before you shut it completely you poke your head out—and your cheeks heat up when you realize Chuuya hasn’t moved an inch from his spot on the sidewalk.

What a true gentleman.

“…Thanks for walking us home.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a smile. “It was my pleasure.”

Kotaro nudges his way back out the door; you groan and tug on his collar, dragging the poor pup back inside. And Chuuya can’t help but laugh at the flustered look on your face.

“Sorry about that… Have a goodnight, Chuuya.”

He stiffens—so that’s what his name sounds like in your voice, huh?—but recovers quickly with a cough. Hopefully you can’t see the light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“…Yeah, goodnight, doll…”

You close the door and latch it shut behind you. Chuuya remains rooted to his spot on the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pockets, until he sees a light flicker on upstairs.

Safe and sound inside.

Then he turns his back and heads down the length of the sidewalk. Unbeknownst to him, you’re watching him go from your bedroom window, peeking through the blinds.

For the rest of the night your chest stays uncomfortably full, even when the dogs are tucked in for the night and you’re left alone with your thoughts in the dark. Staring up at the ceiling, hands bunched around the bedsheets, replaying every single detail you can remember about your little meetup.

It takes a while to fall asleep, but once you do, all you can dream about are blue eyes and wagging tails, with a smile on your face.

#chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fics #puppy love

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

Text

–––

Keith doesn’t sleep a wink the following night. He quickly packs a bunch of supplies into a pod, and then spends hours staring at the base's scanners, waiting for the castle to pop up. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second when it finally does, barely remembering to check in with Kolivan before speedily manoeuvring out of the base and into the castle’s waiting flight deck.

As promised, the team is gathered there to meet him, clambering over each other to be the first to greet him when he walks out of the pod. It should be flattering, should make a pleased flush redden his skin from his neck to the roots of his hair. It’s everything he’s ever wanted; that kind of love, that kind of joyful acceptance, an excitement to see him.

But he barely even notices. All of his attention is trained on the figure so far away from everyone else he’s practically shroud in shadows, stiff and stone-faced. Lance stands with a duffel clenched tightly in his fists, jacket zipped up to his neck and hood halfway pulled over his hair.

Everything he sees makes him want to fall over. He almost feels nauseous, and he’s not entirely sure why. Lance has his off-days, Keith knows this. There were days when Keith had to help Lance fight his way out of bed, and when he did the same for Keith. Keith has held him as he sobbed himself to pain on the observation deck floor. Keith has watched him get overwhelmed and mean and snappy and then guilty for days afterwards.

But he’s never seen Lance like this. He’s never seen Lance…shrink, collapsing into himself so deeply, keep himself so distant. The closest thing he ever saw was when he came to Keith’s room talking about five lions and six paladins, about a seventh wheel.

I solved that problem, he thinks, increasingly desperate. Lance was backed into a corner so Keith threw himself out of the room to give him space. That was the point, that was the purpose, that is why he has stayed in a stupid grey bunk he hates and nodded blankly to masked people he’s not allowed to familiarise himself with and stubbornly refused to leave a man behind no matter how much trouble he gets in.

He was supposed to have fixed things, and now everything has gotten worse.

“Keith!” Pidge screams the second he emerges from the door, sprinting at him and damn near tackling him to the floor. Despite himself and his dizzying confusion he smiles softly, squeezing her right back.

“Hey, Pigeon,” he says, and she must have really missed him because she doesn’t even deck him for it.

“You need to call us more,” she grumbles at him, and he snorts and asks her how that holoprojector he asked her for is coming along.

Before she can launch into yet another rant about how far from the realm of possibility that is, the rest of the team catches up to her, and this time he really does hit the floor. Luckily he lands sprawled on his brother, who only sighs fondly and flicks him on the forehead.

“We’ve all missed you so much,” he says. “Not the same here without you, squirt.”

Because Keith has misses his brother, he refrains from turning around and throwing hands with him right in the hangar, because why would he call Keith that he’s a grown ass man, basically, not six, Shiro what the fuck. The team teases him anyway because they are the worst, but Keith rolls his eyes and takes it. Between Hunk’s bawling and Pidge’s snark and Allura’s hand gripped in his, Keith can almost pretend like he’s just back from a quick and risky errand, that everything is normal, that his family is just excited to see him and they’re gonna head off for dinner together in a few. The familiar foreignness of it all is almost settled around him like a heavy blanket.

Almost.

“I believe we have an exchange to get on with,” drawls a voice so pretentious it makes Keith recoil even before the cruelty of his words kick in.

Lotor stands in the middle of the room like he’s centre fucking stage, hip cocked, inspecting his nails, casual and unbothered. A quick glance to the side confirms that Lance’s jaw has tightened at the comment, posture tensed further. Keith looks back to Lotor and wishes with his whole heart that he had laser eyes via Clark Kent so he could fucking obliterate him. He settles for intensely praying for his downfall to the universe, which isn’t enough but will have to be until Keith can sacrifice him for the greatest good or something.

An exchange. Like Lance is a fuckin’...low rate commodity, or something.

Keith is honestly more disturbed by the fact that no one else seems to be terribly bothered by the comment. He wonders if he’s being too sensitive, if he’s reading into things, if his own hatred for Prince L’Oreal is clouding what could be a similar relationship to what Keith and Lance have, with all the insults and competitions.

The actual thought of that makes him physically gag.

No, that’s not it. Keith is not mistaking the pain that is radiating off of Lance, the way the air itself in the castle feels wrong.

“I’m ready to go if you are, Lance,” Keith calls, as softly as he can manage. Unfortunately it doesn’t manage to go far, and Lance only nods once, tightening the duffel over his shoulder and walking over. His steps are deliberate, at least, no downtrodden shuffling – there’s some stubbornness within him still. It’s better than nothing.

“Aw, no, already?” Hunk complains, sniffling.

Despite the storm raging in Keith’s head, he manages a smile in Hunk’s direction, equally flattered and amused by the affection.

“We’ll be back, man,” Keith promises. “Mission is only supposed to take a few days. Maybe we’ll finish up early and I won’t tell Kolivan, huh, Lance? Spend a couple days here.”

He smiles as brightly as he can manage in Lance’s direction, receiving only a tight-lipped grimace in response, an attempt without the verve to follow through.

“Yeah, sure.”

He gives the pile of teammates a wide berth as he climbs into the pod, disappearing quickly into the back. Keith tries to pretend his words weren’t sullied with bitterness.

It takes longer than he would like to finally bid everyone goodbye and crawl back into the pod, which he feels a little bad about. Both because he doesn’t want to feel like any interaction with his family is at all a burden, even a goodbye, and because he doesn’t want to keep Lance waiting. But he’s in a rough place right now, off-kilter and almost disoriented, so he cuts himself some slack, breathing deeply as he pulls out of the hangar and back into dead space. He puts the tiny but powerful thrusters up as high as they will go, zooming along at top speeds. He stays in the pilot’s chair, hand firmly on the yoke, until the castle is well out of view, until they are surrounded on all sides by endless darkness. Only then does he steel himself to put the pod on autopilot, to breathe deeply and turn around to face the oppressive awkwardness filling up the small space.

“Hey, Lance,” he says quietly, sitting gingerly on the floor in front of his seat. He’s relieved that Lance doesn’t straight up move away like he expected. He’s even more relieved to notice that Lance doesn’t tense up at his mere presence.

He barely acknowledges Keith past a nod of the head, though, which is depressing. Keith wants to ask another question, get more than a nod out of him so desperately it’s actually embarrassing, but he manages to restrain himself. He knows maybe better than anyone else what it feels like to be crowded by questions when you already feel like you’re suffocating. Keith will just have to wait for Lance, however long it takes.

Thankfully, he doesn’t wait very long.

“I didn’t get any details.” Lance’s voice startles Keith, not because he isn’t expecting it – all he’s been doing is waiting for Lance to talk – but because it’s nothing like he expects. His voice is almost normal, not strained hoarse or even bitter like it was earlier. If Keith squeezes his eyes shut and pretends the last several months didn’t happen, he can almost convince himself that he and Lance are sitting at the briefing room table late at night, heads bent together, trying to iron out a plan for their upcoming mission. He wants that back so badly he aches with it, but the ache is familiar enough now that he thinks he can bear it.

“It’s, uh, a quintessence hunt,” Keith explains. “Or, well, kind of. Hopefully. Kolivan gives a lot of details at once and he speaks in this super depressing monotone and I swear to God I do everything I can to pay attention but at some point it just sounds like the teacher in Charlie Brown. So. That’s my bad.”

He has to force air back into his lungs by the end of it and he’s red in the face to boot. That’s maybe the most words he’s ever spoken in one go (hyperbole whatever let him live) and of course he sounds like the biggest dweeb. Why hasn’t becoming a super cool space ninja made him more aloof and mysterious? This isn’t fair. What happened to gay rights.

To his great surprise, his dorky ramble is rewarded by a flash of Lance’s smile, so brief he would have convinced himself he imagined it if he hadn’t spent so much of his life seeking it out. It’s gone faster than it existed, Lance’s expression falling back into something carefully blank, but the fact that it was there at all is the biggest relief.

Lance takes the tablet Keith hands to him, mission file pulled up and ready to go. He squints slightly as he reads it, tilting his head to the side. “We have to go through…wait, Keith, is this right?” He flips the tablet over to Keith, zoomed in on a pair of coordinates. “This is, like, right next to a black hole. RIght right next to, worryingly next to. I don’t like how close this is. This pod is not really built for that, I don’t think.”

Keith doesn’t recognise the coordinates, so he can’t really say, but there’s a fair bit riding on this mission, so he doubts Kolivan has fucked this particular detail up.

“Well, it’s either safe or no longer our problem.”

“I suppose.”

A little disappointed that Keith’s attempt at a joke didn’t do much to lighten Lance’s expression, he lets them lapse into silence, tilting his head back onto the seat and closing his eyes as the pod zooms forwards.

They have a long journey ahead of them.

–––

#next chapter is the offical crash babes!! drama drama drama!!#vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #pre klance #space whale #space whale au #langst #klangst #observant keith #red paladin lance #blade keith #my writing #fic #longpost

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