#I could polish this later but honestly I’ll probably just leave it like this
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Happy 2025! ✨
#naruto online#naruto#Azure Fang#Breeze Dancer#Crimson Fist#Midnight Blade#Scarlet Blaze#d0 stuff#original#the ninja kids#pose based on an Arashi album cover#happy new year!!#I could polish this later but honestly I’ll probably just leave it like this#Midnight is so soft here#like his smile is my favourite thing from this piece#🥰🥰🥰
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Merthur with King Arthur and pre-Court Sorcerer Merlin.
(Don’t worry though, when this is continued, he will be given his rightful place.
If I have to write it a thousand times, I will see Merlin get his happy ending, dammit.)
“Um. Merlin?”
The manservant had been daydreaming again.
It was honestly getting out of hand.
Two moons had passed since Merlin finally told Arthur about the magic.
It went better than expected.
A great deal better.
He didn’t even really seem surprised. If Merlin could count on himself as a reliable narrator of the story, he would say he saw relief flicker across Arthur’s face before he began asking questions. But Merlin was basically imploding on the inside and terrified that he was about to lose his best friend and his home in one fell swoop, so he might’ve imagined it.
Thankfully, Arthur seemed more anxious for answers than anything. He wanted to understand. After a week of catching him up on the last five years of their lives, magic included, Arthur seemed at peace with it.
A week later was when control began slipping from Merlin’s grasp, ever so slightly. Arthur came to him on a random day in the spring, and nonchalantly said he had some documents he’d like Merlin to read over. Make sure they were presentable for council.
Merlin thought nothing of it, he’d done it countless times thus far, and was secretly looking forward to proof reading speeches for the rest of his life.
You can imagine the shock when he approached the desk and found a repeal of the magic ban. Sitting there, in the sun, in Arthur’s perfect penmanship.
Merlin began weeping.
He could almost hear in his head,
“Don’t be a such a girl, Merlin.”
But it never came.
Instead, the King silently joined him by the desk, and embraced him, for maybe the second time in all of existence.
They hugged like they were trying to meld themselves together.
Arthur had one broad arm wrapped behind Merlin’s neck and the other locking him in by his lower back.
They were two pieces that somehow fit perfectly together.
Merlin hid his, probably unsightly, face in Arthur’s neck and willed the tears to stop themselves falling.
A few heartbeats later Arthur whispered,
“I’m so sorry, Merlin.”
Merlin involuntarily scrunched his eyebrows at that. Yet, he did not let go. He did not want to leave, not yet.
“Why are you apologizing?”
A whisper came back,
“I hate to see you cry.”
Merlin wished on every star in the heavens, that he could’ve seen Arthur, in that moment.
But he would not let go. Not until his King did.
At present, things were moving along very well with the repeal. Especially among the townspeople, who are more than welcoming towards the Kingdom’s new citizens.
However, Merlin found himself with a whole new set of challenges.
Merlin was definitely not staring at Arthur as he shuffled through reports at his desk. Though, the sun was casting the perfect halo on his blonde head. It painted a picture that was wholly ethereal, calming.
When Arthur looked up from his papers suddenly, Merlin went back to his polishing like he never stopped.
Because he didn’t, of course.
That would be inappropriate.
That’s when he heard,
“Um. Merlin?”
The raven boy’s head snapped up from the sword in his lap, and found amusement in his King’s eyes.
“What?” He was skeptical, narrowing his gaze.
“Are you planning on turning my chambers into the Royal Gardens or is this your only idea on how to spruce up the place?”
“What on Earth are you-“ spinning around in his chair, he finally saw it.
Vines wearing tiny purple flowers were slowly crawling their way up the bed-posts; bigger, colorful flowers were beginning to bloom from the cracks in the stone floor.
This is not good.
“Uh, I have to-“ he huffed, placing the sword in his seat and running for the door. “I need to go, sire.”
“Merlin, what are you-“
“I think I’m coming down with something. I’m just gonna go see Gaius about it.” Before he closed the door behind him he yelled “I’ll be back with dinner.”
And then he was gone.
#merthur#merlin#arthur pendragon#merlin and arthur#merthur fic#from the drafts#bbc merlin#king arthur#arthur knows about merlin’s magic#Magic ban lifted#Merlin’s magic has an agenda#thank you for reading#❤️
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All She Said Was Faster: A Concept
Author’s Note: I honestly can’t believe it’s taken me this long to post this. I saw Top Gun Maverik nearly a year ago and I was formulating this idea whilst in the cinema but... in true me fashion, I sat on it for a whole year, and am delivering it now! I think the fact I went to a WEC race this year has finally pushed me to polish the edit and post it! 😊
I love Bailey so much she’s actually crossed over into another fic of mine, if you like her, I’ll be happy to post that too!
For those of you new to my ‘concepts’ it’s basically a one scene ‘drabble’ (usually meet-cute) that would be part of a fic I will probably never write the full story of.
Disclaimer: Obviously apart from Bailey (and Luca) none of the characters are mine. I used an IRL team as her team, but didn’t name any members so no IRL people are involved here.
Warnings: Cat calling... swearing... Jake sometimes might come off as OOC but that’s also kinda the point? I tried to make him walk the line.
Word Count: 5176
Premise: Fighter Jet vs Race Car. An exciting concept - even if the winner seems obvious. And to look at him, Jake would be one to gloat at such a win; but that’s not what he’s running after her for. On the airfield he’s comfortable... but Bailey wants to know what he’s like once she gets him in her domain...
--- [Playlist]---
Are you ready for a comeback? Are you ready to fly? Are you ready for the moment? Get ready to ride Shout out to the legends Rising from the wreckage Count down the seconds And start your engines
---
Nights turn into days Days turn into months I was always alone Until you came along Now you've got me singing
I think I like you, maybe more than I should Hurts like heaven and it feels so, feels so You do me better than any other love could Hurts like heaven, and it feels so, feels so good It feels so good
--- [Inspo.] ---
It was hardly worth even parking the car up – she knew she’d lost long before she crossed the line. The jet screaming overhead confirmed it. She might as well drive the car out of the airfield and peace out. That would have been her preference. Only this Lamborghini was hardly road legal, and her team would have had a few words to say to her – none of them particularly glowing…
She walked away from the car without really looking at any of the mechanics rushing over to check it, before they wheeled it into its container for transporting to the factory – luckily, being last year’s model, it wouldn’t be needed next race. Especially with how hard she’d pushed it. Her trainer knew to leave her well alone too, as she continued walking straight down the taxi way. She needed to cool off a little bit.
In her head, Bailey Walker was going through every move and turn she made; did she make the best use of the throttle, every paddle shift up and down – where she’d decided to put her foot down and where she’d lifted… where had she lost time? If she’d have just decided to break a little later here, or not steered so wide there, decided not to drift… or perhaps decided to drift. Who was she really kidding though, it was a fighter jet not another car… No doubt whatever her grievances were, they’d be talked out at a debrief – which she would request; even if not a championship race if she could learn from it, it would be information worth having.
She became aware of someone distantly calling, but she was so in her head at this stage that it took a while for her to figure out it was her name they were calling. “Hey!!! Heeeey!!! Bailey!!! Wait!! Wait, Bailey!!”
As soon as he’d seen her walking away, Jake Seresin knew that he had to chase her down the taxi way. Despite post-flight checks that couldn’t wait, and despite all the aviators and ground team trying to congratulate him on his win��� He wasn’t sure if she was going to collect her things and get going, or if she had the intent of staying.
He’d almost caught up to her by the time she turned around, already having stripped her overalls to tie around her waist. She’d left her helmet back in the car – there was too much season left to get frustrated and throw it, but she wasn’t one to hide behind her visor unless she was really upset. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder for a minute, watching the car swarmed with mechanics. She’d taken it more than just a little hard in places - in the set-up shots the camera crew had taken she’d had a lot of smoke and wheel spin off the line too - more than once. What was the point of not putting on a show for the cameras, after all? She winced apologetically at the thought that doing so wouldn’t have been good. Hopefully she hadn’t pushed too hard. Even if this was just a show car, the team were still precious about it; why wouldn’t they be?!
When she focused back on the man who’d been calling her name, she was almost surprised to find it was Jake Seresin. The pilot she’d been hanging out with all day - that she just raced against. Not only that, but he was still in nearly all his flight gear – he’d surely made sure to waste no time. No, Jake was much more bothered about catching her than he was any necessary checks post-race. Bailey stopped, and took half a pace back on one foot, arms folded, defensive. She’d watched this guy all day - he’d got a little too much ego, he was cocky, he was a little too good looking – An All-American Dream – and he knew it. He had every right to be, especially now. Jake was the best in his class - and it more than showed. All Bailey expected was for him to gloat. She wanted to beat him to it - swallowing back disappointment, she spoke as he stopped a few paces from her, “Congr-” “Hey, are you going now? Or are you staying - they said there was catering earlier, but I wondered if your team might need to hit the road…” Her eyebrows raised, and she counted herself surprised, it seemed like a strange angle to start on. She didn’t quite know what to do but answer with a question of her own – and Bailey knew she sounded as bemused as she was. “Are… you staying?” His smile didn’t quite reach cocky, “I asked first.” “Well, I got nowhere to be.” Bailey shrugged before casting her eyes to the sky, cheeks burning, because even if she knew beating him was an impossibility she still hated losing. “That was some nice flying. I wish I saw more of it, but I was trying to focus on the road… you deserved to win. Sounds like when they said you were top of your class, they really did mean it.” When Bailey looked back to him, Jake wasn’t looking at her, even though he was smiling – he didn’t seem the type to get bashful, and yet… - it was a very different kind of smile, “I wish I could have seen more of the car… I guess it’s a little hard, y’know, going vertical. But you were really giving it some. Besides, I’ve not graduated yet, so that might not be true for much longer… you are certified fastest in your team, it shows. That wasn’t a big margin.” It was a compliment. She bowed her head a little - “Thank you. I guess that can’t be bad coming from the fastest pilot either.” “Guess not!” He grinned, then pointed back the way he’d just run, “You wanna… grab something together - I mean, you can eat with your crew I’m not gonna… I mean, I just…” Jake realised he was tripping over his words and Bailey was giving him a look he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But she at least seemed amused by this - waiting for him to string the right words together. She was letting him try. Patient. Instead, he paused and rolled his eyes, “I’m staying. We’ve hung out all day talking about our vehicles of choice. I guess it’d be good to get to know each other a little better.” Bailey smirked to herself before nodding, ��Sure. That’s cool with me.”
This was true – they had spent nearly all day together to film this segment – Race Car vs Fighter Jet. Or… whatever it would eventually be called, but that was the entire premise. They’d been introduced first thing this morning as the two competitors – and the two fastest members of their respective ‘teams’. Jake had yet to graduate his Top Gun class, and Bailey was an up-and-comer, competing in an all-women racing team. (At least from a driver point of view). Once it had been explained what they had to do, and establishing shots had been done of both them and their vehicles of profession, the two had been left to their own devices as the crew filmed the more science-based parts of the day with presenters. Where upon Bailey and Jake had made general comparisons between the jet and the car; discussing top speeds, aerodynamics, handling, cornering, 0-to-60-to-over-100 (as if that mattered to a jet, but it was all good fun!) amongst other things…
Sitting here in the catering tent – or, hanger, as that’s what they were using – across from him, trying to talk about himself without coming across as too egotistical (she could tell; though she had a healthy amount of ego herself, as a competitive racer. It was almost a necessity.), Bailey wasn’t sure if she was really interested in him or not. If she had a type, she wouldn’t say the man talking to her now was it. But she wasn’t going to deny Jake Seresin was attractive. That he didn’t make her heart race as fast as her car when they were introduced… she just, wasn’t sure. And Jake? He was talking 100 miles an hour, but he still managed to be collected. But when he kept looking at her to check if she was still hanging on to every word he said, there was a constant look on his face that intrigued her. ‘Do I make him nervous?’ That confused Bailey a little. He didn’t have that type of energy about him. Jake seemed too sure of himself to ever have problems articulating; especially around women. Bailey could bet they usually tripped over themselves for him. But, it was that sort of look - maybe not present in his body language but in his eyes. Maybe it was dread. But he had no reason to fear her, so what?
As they continued to talk, eventually it dawned on her. (And there must have been something between them, given that no one disturbed them the entire time – no one from his team or hers. She expected a debrief, or at least someone to tap her shoulder and say when that would be, yet nothing. They were just left alone to talk.) So what did dawn on her, was that Jake’s look was the fear of her slipping away. The fear of her getting up and leaving – of that person, whoever it would be, eventually stepping in - and that he still wouldn’t have told her everything he wanted to. Of the chance he’d never get to see her again. Bailey knew she couldn’t just voice that though - he’d play it off; more likely Jake would throw it back at her, say she’s the one who can’t resist him. But she knew… he was chasing. It was the reason he ran after her on the taxi way, it was the reason he asked her to stay. Jake already had a crush – whether he would admit it out loud or not.
She should have guessed this from the immediate introduction. He was Jake, and he let her call him that – not by his last name, nor rank. Not by his call sign – even though almost everyone else was doing one or the other. The one time she had decided to ask about it; just in case he wasn’t one to correct her, he’d said “Jake is fine!” with one of those smiles that she was sure had all the girls falling for him.
There was a natural end to the day though. There had to be. The shooting was wrapped, and the crews were packing up around them as the sun began to sink lower in the sky. It was unfortunate for them both – given the way their discussion had gone there was some kind of chemistry, that was undeniable. Whatever it was – or was going to be. There was a feeling that they both still had something to say.
All sets of teams around them did their best to pack up without having to disturb them until the last possible second, but eventually her trainer, Luca, had to interrupt. “Bailey?” The two of them trailed their conversation off to look at him. “Sorry, the car is probably going to be here to pick you up within the next 10 minutes. You wanna debrief?” “In the car will do, Luca, thank you.” “Alright, I’ll come back when it’s here.” He nodded politely to Jake before leaving them alone once more. Although he didn’t show it on his face, Jake was disappointed – his emotional state slumped a little, but he knew he couldn’t keep her here. He was a charmer, he knew that - he knew how it was to flirt back with the girls that came walking up at The Hard Deck and it was easy. But the woman sitting across from him now didn’t seem to be falling for it - no matter how engaged Bailey was in what he said, there were no hearts in her eyes that meant he could persuade her anywhere…
All he could do was just hope that her interest was at least genuine. That she wasn’t talking to him for the sake of having someone there to talk to – or to be polite for today. Jake shook that off – her whole damn mechanic team was here, she had plenty of people she could choose to talk to and she was spending her time with him. He’d got this!
Still, there was no harm in trying – and there was an urgency now. He had ten minutes before she walked out of his life forever. “So, uh… any chance of getting your number, before you go? I mean, besides the one you race with?” And he winked, with an appropriate laugh. Although it had been peeled off the car for the race (along with the majority of the sponsors, given the video) the 85 was printed on the back of her fireproofs, underneath her last name. Jake’s voice was smooth and included a hopefulness behind it… as much as something vulnerable. Bailey would hate to disappoint him, but that wasn’t something she did. This wasn’t something she ever did. “No…” She leaned on her hand and before his face could fall in more than obvious disappointment he was doing very well not to show – it reached his eyes though, the discomfort with her answer was obvious in that hazel - Bailey gave another little smirk, this one mysterious, “but you can follow my Instagram.”
Part of her wished she hadn’t, because it immediately put Jake back on that attitude of his. Although, part of her had already decided she liked to see that on him. The feeling nothing could get to him – Bailey had just given him an out, Jake could play it off like she was the one asking for his number, “Oh, okay, alright. It’s like that, huh?” “Yeah.” And it was her turn to playfully wink at him, “pretty much.”
Ten minutes passed in little-to-no time, and it really was time for them to part. By then they were standing by the entry to the hanger. Her car was waiting patiently, her trainer leaning against it shaking his head. But Luca didn’t interrupt, he let Bailey have her time. They parted ways amicably; their handshake quickly turning into a hug. That perhaps lasted a little too long – Bailey wasn’t sure. “Congrats again on your win. You can tell people you beat a real racer – how’s that?” He laughed, “Well, you can tell your friends you nearly beat a Top Gun pilot… but I… I mean I don’t know if that gets you any cred.” “Ah, I got to race a jet, there’s not many racers can say that.” Bailey grinned – despite losing, she had to admit, it had been a fun day. Probably once in a lifetime. “Well, at least I can give you something good to say!” Jake was doing his best to act bashful, but Bailey wasn’t falling for that either. She stepped away from him, with another polite nod of thanks, before offering him one final wave goodbye, and following her trainer to the car. The door being opened the second she started walking showed Luca’s real impatience. Bailey almost looked to the sky in an eyeroll, laughing to herself. He will have followed her by the time she’d left the airfield and she’d be just another girl by the end of the week. Jake looked the type. She didn’t necessarily mind that. (At least, that’s what she was telling herself right now). Bailey wasn’t looking for anything. She had a career of her own, and she had to focus on the race coming up in a few weeks. Tomorrow she’d be back training on the simulator as if today had never happened. That was how it went. Jake Seresin would be just a guy she raced against once in another video stunt PR and Marketing had got her involved in. And then 1 in a few hundred thousand when he followed her.
Her phone beeped before the car was even off the taxi way and Bailey couldn’t help but laugh. Of course! She should have bet on it.
*** The sunlight glinted obnoxiously off the VIP pass in his hands that he had to flash to security as he walked through the paddock – despite already having scanned in his ticket.
‘What the hell am I even doing here, this is insane!?’ How did he go from sending a hopeful Instagram DM, to being invited out to the US round of the World Endurance Championship. That just so happened to coincide with his next leave period. Heck – maybe Jake Seresin should actually be calling it luck.
Bailey was more responsive to his messages than he expected – especially with him not quite being able to gage her interest in him initially – and they just kept talking. Even when he was sure maybe the conversation had really dried up. Her own thinking had her concluding that if they’d raced on his home turf – at an airfield – then he had to come and see Bailey at her own; a race track. So she didn’t just send him a ticket, but a VIP paddock pass that would get him into the motorhome for her team.
Right now, he probably couldn’t have looked more out of place. Fans excitedly chatting, sporting team and driver gear, some even gathering around drivers for autographs and selfies. Team staff of all types running up and down between the trucks and buildings – shouting incoherently to one another or driving small vehicles containing car parts and other personnel. Journalists and photographers, all looking to get the best new stories and best shots. Jake was just trying to take it all in. With the also obnoxiously bright pink and black pass hanging around his neck – the colours of Bailey’s team; the only all women’s team in the WEC – Jake felt a bit like a fraud. Surely these groups of fans deserved this more than he did? They probably could rattle off a million facts about Bailey Walker that he wouldn’t have known… yet, he was the one talking to her on social media… so… he guessed he had that. The thought had a little smirk appearing on his face as he cleared his throat, relaxing his shoulders back and standing a little taller – exactly, damn right! She’d invited him here!
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Already having let Bailey know he’d arrived; she’d rather enthusiastically replied with a ton of celebratory emojis and that he should let her know when he was in the paddock. Which as he now was, he did exactly that. It wasn’t long before she was typing back, and he found himself staring at instructions for getting to their motorhome. Geez… okay… He studied them carefully, before beginning to walk in the specified direction. Jake was starting to think it might be easier if she just came and collected him herself. Or, at least had someone else do it. He was hoping this wouldn’t end with an embarrassing phone call and him getting lost. It wasn’t just a straight line of teams after all, she had him turning left and right at various points to get to other rows all laid out within the space afforded to them by the circuit. He was passed on all sides by other people in team gear who must have been laughing at him silently inside… Jake had no idea where he was going and he could bet he looked it. Normally he’d brush it off and act confident, but Jake was trying to stare at his phone to make sure he was following what she said to a T, and also staring up at the buildings around to make sure he hadn’t missed it on accident. It was obvious he was new around here at the very least, and that display of confidence from before was waning.
Eventually Jake had to stop moving for fear of getting hopelessly lost. They weren’t directions that hard to follow – but he’d suddenly started second guessing himself. Had he actually turned the right way at all the points she’d listed? What if he hadn’t? What if he was hopelessly lost. Dammit – he didn’t actually want to have to make that phone call! The objective was to walk in there, cool as hell, like he did this all the time! Jake wondered if it was really the pang of nerves in his stomach at seeing her face to face again. Their open, chill DM banter… would it translate once they spoke to each other again? Once they hung out… this weekend for much longer than they had before.
As Jake stared at his phone again, bent closer to the screen, making him look more confused and out of place than he did before, he suddenly heard a whistle from above him, and then voices. “Hot damn – hey, girls look at this!” “Holy shit - wait, is that him?! She was totally right!” “Hey! Good looking, where you going!?” Jake looked up to find himself stared at by three women leaning over a balcony, all in the black-and-pink of Bailey’s team. Though the motorhome itself was white. And the name emblazoned on the side – in neon yellow he might add: ‘IL COVO’ - was not her team name. Way to make him look even more confused. “Uh…” Although he’d be lying if he didn’t say he felt a little flattered to be cat called like this, Jake removed his sunshades, “I’m looking for the Iron Dames motorhome?” “Oh. You’re for us!? Damn, isn’t this our lucky day.” “Well, I-” he laughed, “Bailey Walker invited me.” “Bailey?” One pouted, “Aw c’mon, we can show you a better time than her!” One of the other women immediately turned around, “Bailey - Hey Bailey, your boyfriend is here!” There was some muffled scuffling, and one of the women disappeared, before there was more yelling, “Holy shit, why didn’t you SAY he was so gorgeous!!” Jake couldn’t help but grin a little more, feeling that little ego boost. The next voice echoed faintly, as if it was far away but yelling enough to be heard even from where he was standing, “Oh my god, will you guys shut up! Stop yelling!” “Look, we can’t help that he’s so hot.” “Stop cat calling him – my god can you get any more embarrassing!” The woman who had disappeared before, popped back over, leaning even further out than she was before, “If you get bored with her, hot stuff, we’re always up here.” Before winking, “But this girl has a massive crush on you…” Jake tried not to let that go all the way to his head – he didn’t know if that was the truth or if they were teasing him… or her… or both. “Shut up! Leave him alone!” There was a scrabbling sound and finally Bailey popped up beside them, a little flushed. And he didn’t know if that was from embarrassment or hurrying to get there, “Jake!” her voice was joyful, and she beamed upon seeing him, “Hey! Just come up to the door, you got your pass, right?” He flashed it at her, “Perfect! Yeah, I’ll be right down! Please ignore my team mates!” “Ignore us!? Bailey that’s so rude!” At this point another group of people in overalls – these ones yellow and black, and also on men! – had peered over the side of the motorhome to see what all the fuss was about, and they were all chuckling. Jake couldn’t help but laugh himself as he walked towards the glass front door, finding himself called on again; “Don’t be a stranger!” He grinned up at them as they waved at him, “Don’t worry, I won’t!”
Once inside – as if he hadn’t just been checked outside the door – Jake found himself face to face with what looked like a security guard. If he wasn’t also wearing a suit and standing at a desk that made him look like a Matire D – but the guy was intimidatingly tall. Jake raised an eyebrow approaching the desk. “Ah, hello Sir. I see your pass.” He gestured, “My name is Chris – I look after everyone on the motorhome.” Jake could imagine that look after must entail pretty much everything. Including first – or, second - line of defence. “Before I let you wander around – I better get you checked in, I don’t believe I’ve seen you on here already?” “No, that’s right. I’m Jake, Seresin.” “Seresin… Seresin…” Chris ran down the list of names with his pen – before letting out a laugh he obviously didn’t mean to be audible by how it was cut short and he placed his hand over his mouth. Eyes raising back to Jake, he smiled, “You’re here for Bailey?” “…That’s right.” Jake could imagine the expression on his face was one of surprised concern – should he be worried? What had he let himself in for?! “Sorry – that’s just unusual – if not for her parents! Bailey never gets visitors!” Chris raised his eyebrows and crossed through Jake’s name on the list, before muttering, “Good Luck!” Jake’s face creased in concern, “Uh… thanks?” Before he started walking again, then paused, “Wait, I don’t… have to do this again right?” “Oh no, just flash your pass – I’ve got you all memorised.” No doubt. “Okay… thanks Chris!” By the time Jake started walking on, Bailey had already appeared in the bottom of the motorhome, leaning against a wall draped in ivy. She was wearing a black t-shirt – team branded – and jeans. Obviously not expecting to be out in the car for a while. Bailey raised her hand in greeting and Jake was at least relieved he wouldn’t have to wait around by himself for a while.
“Hey!” “Hey, it’s good to see you again.” He leaned down to her own lean up – such was the height difference – as they hugged, accepting cheek kisses. “Oh-!” Bailey grinned at his greeting, “And you too! It’s nice to speak face to face again, huh Jake?” She nodded behind him to Chris, “Did he tell you good luck!?” “How’d you know?” Jake quirked his eyebrow again, half expecting her to let him know what he’d been warned about. Bailey simply rolled her eyes. “I just said you’d be coming and they’ve been teasing me ever since.” Then she gaped, suddenly embarrassed, “Oh my god! My team-! I- I’m so sorry! That- they joked so much about doing that all through practice and stuff and I never thought they’d actually go ahead and tease YOU! I’m sorry – I… they’re a great bunch and lovely girls really, I… I’m so sorry!” Jake waved away her apology, knowing she was likely right, “Naw, it’s okay! What’s a little bit of banter huh?” He laughed, “I’ve heard worse from the Navy guys. You’re all good.” “Ah, just wait – they’ll all be thanking you for your service next.” “Aw, stop.” He winked, which made her shove him playfully. “Uh, question…” He pointed behind him, “This is not what I expected.” “That wasn’t a question, but I think I’ve got your wavelength…” She smirked, folding her arms and tracing her eyeline slowly around the room, to which he followed.
The motorhome did indeed look like a miniature home. Light and airy and filled with fake, or maybe some real, plants. Polished authentic wooden surfaces mixed well with the modern glass and steel and stark white. But it still had a homely feel, plush sofas, and tables where some of the team were sat chatting – likely about strategy – the lighting from above wasn’t harsh either, the large windows allowing plenty of natural light. The wall Bailey had been leaning against was deceptive; actually just a dividing boarder to the rest of the building – bar tables pushed up against the wall: upon which hung framed pictures of cars, tracks and podiums, the stairs heading to the top deck (which was clearly something like an outside balcony). The surfaces either were crowded with laptops or coffee machines and fridges for snacks. Jake assumed that catering facilities were in another part that he just couldn’t see. On the wall directly opposite them was mounted a large flatscreen TV – clearly for showing the racing when any was actually happening – and two logos. One for The Iron Dames – in pink and black – and the other for the Iron Lynx – this in yellow and black. Iron Lynx, and the vibrant yellow, was of course what Jake had been met with on the outside.
“So technically we’re part of the Iron Lynx brand – we’re just the all-girls team. The Lynx team are all guys – but you’ll see ‘Iron Lynx’ on our car too.” She smiled, “The more you know!” “Gotcha.” – Although he was sure it’d make more sense when he met the teams and saw the cars going around. Though it did explain the group of male drivers he’d seen on the top deck too. “I’m sure you thought the motorhome would live up to the pink and black! Or at least black and yellow, that would make sense. But no, right now we’re white!” She gave a shrug. Maybe that would change in the future, then. “I see.” She watched him carefully, “Feeling a bit out of your depth?” He didn’t see any point in trying to deflect, Bailey had the intuition and perception of a racer, after all. Really Jake had nowhere to hide, and as he saw it, no reason to. “Just a little…” She smiled, patting him, “Well – you’re at least appropriately dressed.” Jake looked down at himself; jacket, jeans, boots, button up shirt… shades now tucked into the front. The pink kinda clashed with the soft blues, but whatever. He pulled it off. “You’ll get the hang of things. You’ll be a certified expert by the time I’m done with you. And don’t worry – I’ll make sure you’re not harassed… I mean, I did invite you out here to see you…” Her features softened, affectionately, “…and… I – uh – I obviously want you to enjoy the experience.” He smiled, and she knew she’d said exactly the right thing to swell his ego right. Although truth was, she did mean every word. She wanted to see Jake again, because she had some things to figure out. And Bailey knew that the only way to do that now was to have a face-to-face conversation with him. This wasn’t something she could figure out over text anymore – you could only get to know someone so well from that. Bailey wanted to remove that limitation. “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I think I’ll enjoy myself.” She laughed, nodding, before she opened her arms back to the room – a small gesture before putting her hands in her pockets. This time when her eyes met his they glinted, full of confidence: “Well, Jake, welcome to my domain.”
--- --- --- ---
Thank you for reading! 💜💙
#Jake Seresin#jake hangman seresin#Jake Seresin x OC#Its like a YEAR since I saw this in theaters which means this concept has been floating for a YEARRRRRRR!!!#It took me like 0.2 seconds to decide what she was gonna do because I remember that Top Gear thing like it was yesterday#I was like /Sure... she could be the obvious things within this story BUUUUUTTTTTTTT----/#And now shes a WEC driver with the Iron Dames because all girl team - hell yeaaaah bitches!#So I get to combine all my favourite things! And I'm very happy about it!#Matt Stell lyrics as your title? YES.
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you already know who the fuck i'm slamming in here with i'm a predictable ass creature of habit i swear i know more of your bbs but it's comfort character hours atm lmao lemme see if i can give you some rant-worthy ones
8 + 17 for toph
18 + 22 for amon
33 + 48 for hya
AHHH KORBIEEE THANK YOU 🥺🥺🥺
TOPH
8: Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging
toph has no qualms about the concept of indulgence and encourages it mostly in others, though the ways he does it for himself seem almost “lackluster”. his biggest indulgence is mint flavored things bc he’s an absolute glutton with them LMAO. he also sleeps A Lot even though he literally doesn’t need sleep (being a demon and all) so it’s literally sleep for the sake of doing it which is Peak Indulgence lol. he just likes being cozy fr.
17: Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress
so toph’s style is in the realm of like… “pretty grunge” ig LOL it’s got tenants of the avant garde, pretty, gothic elements of visual kei/aesthetic alt with the ripped and more chaotic look of grunge. these are some examples of what he dresses like:
he also tends to wear nail polish, heavy eyeliner, and obviously has piercings/tattoos so it just gives him an overall very alternative pff style. which yknow, makes sense being the front man of a metal band so 😂
i guess some of his dress rituals is that he never wears the color green even though green is his favorite color (i’ve drawn him in green before but yknow He doesn’t wear it) because he considers green a sacred/lucky color and he doesn’t want to taint it by wearing it. it’s kinda weird but he’s allowed to be superstitious pff. he also tends to do make up, accessories, and hair first since they all take the longest.
AMON
18: Favorite beverage?
honestly, anything sweet and expensive. he doesn’t think money makes food taste better but he sure does enjoy it more if he knows it’s exorbently priced and someone else is paying for it. it’s less to do with the flavor and more to do with the flex of having hya buy it for him LMAO.
22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?
it really says a lot about him but he’d probably end up ripping it up 💀 he’s a distracted destroyer, so any loose threads or seams or paper, in this instance, he’ll pull at or rip when he’s just vibing. there’s something satisfying about it to him lol.
HYA
33: Concept of home and family?
horrible, terrible, rancid, not worth mentioning. he has no trust for family and no love of it (aloe is a VERY heavy exception but aloe is an angel, how could you hate him?). realistically he distrusts family more than he distrusts a stranger because family, in most cases, knows you AND has something to gain from fucking you over, and it’s been illustrated to him time and time again that family doesn’t mean shit :))) (there is mostly tagetes to blame for this however, he doesn’t get along with iberis, narci and laven for a REASON—tho laven he does become more amiable towards by the time her book ends). ALSO parents???? sham. mix authority and entitlement AND family?? he’s not about it like at all. has zero faith in it whatsoever.
edit;; i forgot to talk about home. he has a very… lackluster concept of home tbh, which all relates to above. he’s never truly felt safe in anything but his own skin which is why how he dresses is in part expression, but also in part defense mechanism for him. being able to buy his own home later in life (aka after paramour) definitely helps him feel more comfortable in it, but he sort of forces himself to be a modicum of relaxed anywhere—or he essentially just bullies his way into people leaving him and the space he’s in alone.
48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?
hya’s a bruiser i’ll tell you that. he Really doesn’t prefer to physically fight because he thinks it’s brutish, a waste of time, and if someone fucks up his appearance he’s going to be whatever level is Beyond Infuriated. but… he is a man that very much talks with his fists. in another life where he wasn’t so pompous (looking at you slum aus), he would absolutely be a force to reckon with. even in canon, he can lay someone out with one good hook because he’s not really about finesse or torture—it’s all the skill points in power baby and he will Lay You Out.
but i have to reiterate, esp in canon, he’s Really not in the vibe to put his hands on people unless he’s positive they won’t reciprocate (amon is a good example lol. he’s punched amon confirmed once and as i write who knows? maybe more).
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Table Eight
Type | Angst to fluff
Characters | Timeskip!Fukunaga x gn reader
Warnings | none really? mentions of getting stood up? Timeskip spoilers
Summary | You get stood up on a date, but don’t worry, there’s a cute chef there to cheer you up
Words | 1.5k
A/N | Ooh by I was rushing to get this finished in time for his birthday :’) The best boy who deserves so much more content, and I will solely provide it if I have to. Considering he's a comedian now, I think he would probably talk a bit more then he used to
Hmm I’ve been working on this on and off for a while, trying to get it right, but it just didn’t come out the way I wanted? I definitely like it, but it could've been better, ya know?
<<—>>—<<—>>
You watched as the time on your phone ticked over, signifying that you'd been here for over an hour. Sighing, you clicked onto your messages. Nothing new, no reply to the text you'd sent to the guy you were supposed to be meeting up with.
He stood you up. Things were going so well between the two of you in the beginning, but the moment you wanted to meet everything seemed to go downhill. Honestly, you should've expected this; he would take hours to reply, and when he did it was never more than a few texts.
Bringing your hands to your face you sat there for a moment, contemplating your options. You could go home, but you’d have to wait for your friend to pick you up, seeing as you’d walked here; and there was no way you'd be walking back alone at almost 9 pm. That meant that you would have to wait at this restaurant even longer, and you hadn't even ordered anything.
As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, startling you more than you would admit. Bringing up your phone once again, you blocked his number and texted your friend, telling them that things didn't work out and you needed a ride. You set your phone down on the table, feeling it tilt as you shifted your weight, polished wood creaking under you. This diner wasn’t the most sophisticated place someone would usually go for a first date, but considering your current predicament, your choice seemed perfect.
It wasn't your fault he stood you up, you knew that, but that doesn't take away the way it hurt. Maybe you could have avoided this, if only you had predicted it...
Snatching the menu from where it had been sitting on the table all night, you just stared at it, eyes glossing over the words. At least you could make it seem like you were going to order. It probably only took a minute or two, but it felt like much longer, before someone was clearing their throat near you.
“Are uh, you okay? You’ve been sitting here for quite a while.” It was one of the servers, holding a pitcher of water in one hand, and a notepad in the other. “Can I get you anything?”
Glancing over the menu one last time, you didn’t look him in the eyes, knowing you would break down. Instead, you focused on his short hair, the lighting above you turning the brown a more pinkish colour. “Just get me whatever the chef would recommend.”
He gave you a quick nod, scribbled something on his notepad and left to take other patrons’ orders, never mind that you were one of the only people in the diner.
Eleven minutes later—you had been counting, someone you could only assume was the chef stepped from the kitchen. With both hands, he held a plate of food you couldn't recognize. He looked over the diner, presumably searching for your table number, number eight. The chefs’ hat he wore shifted as he turned, strands of dark hair peeking out from under it.
Helping him out a little you shifted your table number toward the center where he would be able to see it better. It didn't take him long to see you, considering there were even fewer people than before. He set your food down in front of you and you were finally able to get a good look at it. It was some sort of orange rice dish mixed with seafood.
“Oh thank you, and uh, I don’t mean to be rude but what is this?”
“Paella, a specialty of mine,” he supplied with a small smile, “it’s great with a little extra seasoning.”
Reaching for the salt you thanked him for the food, it really did look delicious. “And how much is this gonna come to? I should make sure I have enough money beforehand.”
“It’s on the house, you look like you’ve had a night peppered with disappointments,” he said, a chuckle escaping him as he slid the pepper shaker over to you. “Well I better get back to the kitchen, hopefully the rest of your night goes well.”
You watched as he walked back to the kitchen, stopping halfway to answer a question from a customer. He looked back at you after he opened the door to the kitchen, throwing you a quick thumbs-up, then he was gone.
You couldn't deny that he was cute, but the fact that he made a pun was like the icing on the top of a cake. You don't know when you had started smiling, but you definitely didn't stop until the sound of his voice left your head.
The paella was amazing. Cooked perfectly—and thanks to his advice, the right amount of seasoning. You’d have to thank him the next time you saw him.
Checking your phone, you read the text from your friend saying they would arrive in just over ten minutes. You yawned, glancing at the time. 9:16 pm. Resting your head and arms on the table, you figured you could rest until your friend got here.
Once again, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention. It was the pink-haired server from before, whose nametag read Hanamaki. He gestured to your empty plate, leaning to pick it up, “Are you done with this? Looks like you enjoyed it.”
“Yeah I'm done, it was really good. But are you sure I don't have to pay? I’d feel bad just eating it like that,” you reached to grab your wallet, fully ready to pay whatever it cost.
“Nah it’s fine.” He brushed you off, wiping down your table with a cloth, “could you pass me the table number?”
You grabbed the small card, looking at the number before handing it to him, “Well thank you, I really appreci-eight it.”
He stopped, a look that you could only describe as a mix between disappointment and fighting off a smile adorning his face as he shook his head at you. Somewhere behind you came a familiar chuckle, then the cute chef appeared next to you, no longer with his hat or apron, but a bag slung over his shoulder.
Hanamaki sighed lightheartedly, turning to his chef co-worker, “Alright, two joke-makers is enough for me, could you close up, Fukunaga?” He asked, already walking away.
The chef, Fukunaga apparently, nodded to him and slid into the chair across from you.
“Wait, close up? I didn’t realize I’ve been here so long, I’m so sorry, I was just waiting on my friend to pick me up. I can leave if you want?” You offered, scrambling to grab your belongings.
He dismissed you with a small shake of his head, “It’s fine, I’ve got some time to kill anyway. Wanna tell me what's been bothering you all night?”
“No, no, I don’t want to bother you with my troubles,” you started, but the look on his face told you he didn’t mind listening to you ramble. ���Hmm, well, if you insist,” and you told him about the night you’ve had. The guy that stood you up, having to wait for your friend to pick you up, the amazing paella he cooked for you.
At this point, you were thankful your date hadn't shown up; if he did you probably would have ignored him in favor of your cute chef anyway.
In turn, Fukunaga told you a bit about himself, although in fewer words than you had used. He told you about his part-time job here as a chef, mainly because being a comedian doesn't pay as well as it should, and how he was heading somewhere after he closed up to perform one of his comedy acts.
“So you’re a comedian? That explains the love for puns! Maybe I could come to one of your shows sometime?” You were half-joking, but the way Fukunaga sat up a little straighter at your suggestion meant he liked the idea anyway.
Your phone buzzed beside you. Once. Twice. On the third buzz, you finally tore yourself away from the conversation you were invested in. They were texts from your friend, letting you know they were here, and you should hurry up and get in the car.
Finally standing up to leave, you thanked Fukunaga one last time for the paella, and once more for waiting with you when he could’ve closed up. “I’ll be sure to come here more often, and next time I had better get to hear more of your jokes.”
He held the door open for you with his shoulder as you walked out, giving you two thumbs up, “I’ll be sure to reserve table eight for you.” He paused looking away for a second, “I got no puns for that one. But I’ll be looking forward to it.”
The second you stepped into the car, your friend bombarded you with questions, but one stood out more than the rest, “Why do you look so happy? I thought that guy stood you up?”
“Oh yeah, he absolutely did. But that might’ve been one of the best nights I’ve had.”
<<—>>—<<—>>
Navigation | Masterlist | Rules, Requests and DNI
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#nekoma x reader#fukunaga x reader#i write#i post#haikyuu fukunaga#fukunaga fluff#fukunaga shouhei#fukunaga shōhei
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Have a headcannon dump of a LU!centaur Au that’s been cycling in my brain for a week, I’m quite possibly going to write a fic/do more art,
You’re free to leave ideas or suggestions for this Au as well
(Wild doodle to go with at the end)
•–•Au Basics:
-this is heavily based off the @linkeduniverse Au by @jojo56830
Basically it’s the same but every character (even side characters but they’re not important) are Centaurian, this is finicky and involves things like Cervitaurs, mermaids and whatnot,
This is hevily based on living conditions and most races are born with natural legs, ie; hylians are born with two hylian legs, and their secondary legs will grow in around the age of four depending on the food and lifestyle they’ve had until then, the secondary traits are usually set in by the age of six where they will no longer have their original legs.
—-
Now the headcannons (this is just the links cause idk much about the Zelda’s so I have to do more research)
—-
•–Time•
- The old man is a Stag, no I will not take criticism on this
Time started off his journey a young deer cervitaur, barely grown into his fawn limbs before coming into contact with Fi,
Deer are often seen as prey animals and weak, but we all know Time is seen as the leader for a reason,
My man got mad strong horns and has kicked, impaled and stomped on more Moblins then any sane person should, while deers are often seen as weak you would have to be blind, deaf, three years old and an idiot to think Time any less then the powerful stag that would lay his life down for his family
-
•–Sky•
-Loftwing… kind of a no brainer for this one
Oh yeah, our sleepy king has butt wings and you can’t stop me,
Sky was literally found in a Loftwing nest and the majority of Skyloft secretly think he’s a Hylian Centaur instead of the other way around,
Learning to fly was the literal worst, his wings took a few more years to fully develop so he got to flying later then most, the fact that his wings sit at an awkward place on the base between his hylian torso and his Skywing back doesn’t help that fact
Yes he’s still perfected the art of flying while asleep, not even other Loftwing hybrids know how he does it
-
•–Twilight •
-He’s… hes a Wolf… it’s… it’s twilight… literally what else would he be?
He was actually a wolf hybrid before his adventure started and is honestly not sure how it took so long for the chain to even start to theorise his connections with Wolfie,
Wind guessed they were long lost brothers,
Fun fact, Twi is allergic to fur, it took him embracingly long to realise, ‘Oh, I thought the air was just meant to hurt’
Legend likes to call him a husky and watch as Twi goes on a rant about how they are completely different, this went on for months before time brought a stop to it
-
•-Legend•
-Pegasus… is this because I love the Pegasus boots? You’ll never know
The only reason sky knows how to preen his wings is because legend literally sat on him one day and showed him
In the ‘Not quite horse centaurs’ club with Wild
His tail was unfortunately docked in his third adventure, Wind used his ‘ Customary Pirate Rope tying skills’ to fashion him a fake tail out of foe hair (yes it’s pink) and braided him a new tail,
Legend won’t admit but that was the day he started trusting the rest of the chain
Likes to cuff Wars over the head with his wings, he quickly found out Wars’ wings hurt a lot more to get hit by then his
-
•–Warriors•
-DragonDragonDRAGONDRA-
His scales are literally brighter then the chains future (admittedly not hard to be)
Learned the hard way that his claws are sharp and for completely non related reasons has a wooden backscratcher he won’t tell anyone about
Runs hotter then the others Links, thus why he always wears his scarf, Legend jokes he’s as cold blooded as his blood,
legend regrets.
Has an unhealthy obsession with shiny things, his time in the army has helped him restrain from stealing freshly polished swords and amour but four swears they had a freshly cleaned dagger right next to them and now it’s gone-
-
•–Four•
-Minish?? More like biggish (that was bad I’ll see myself out-)
Still Has four legs like a mouse instead of the two that minish usually have, but has the fluffiest tail in existence
Actually wasn’t sure what Minish were before meeting them so was super confused for the first few years after developing
When Wind was confused on how to use their pronouns (they/them) correctly they told him to just picture four mice in a Trenchcoat (it helped Wind a lot)
Paints their claws/nails, each foot is one of the four colours, the blue nails are for some reason always somehow chipped, Warriors ends up lending them some of his nail Polish which is sturdier
-
•–Hyrule•
-obsessing over the idea that Rules’ Hyrule is basically Australia so Rule is a kangaroo
Kangaroos are evil deer, Rule is the exception
Kangaroos are terrifying and could be hit by a truck and walk it off, lest to say Time had a mini breakdown after watching Hyrule get punched into a tree by a Hinox, stand up, then carry on with his life without so much as a scratch
They still suck at cooking
If you say ‘shrimp on a campfire’ he will ring your throat until you meet Nayru face to face,
‘I may not know how to cook but I know they’re called prawns.’
-
•–Wind•
-Salt water croc for my salty pirate
Changed from lobster because I personally hate lobsters
Has claws and knows how to use them, preferably on the back of legend’s legs but has learned hooves hurt to take to the face
Has 3rd eyelid to be able to see underwater, so he likes to sleep like that sometimes and creep out whoever is on watch
Wild has attempted to eat him at least twice, both times Twi had to stop the because Wind was also curious
Sky only has two legs? Boo loser, Wind has 4 and a big tail that could snap your spine (it took wind several years to learn how not to trip over and he still can’t walk for long periods of time)
-
•–Wild-
-Lynel… Time is not surprised
In the ‘Not quite horse centaurs’ club with Legend
Honestly thought he was a horse until Flora mentioned ‘no Link, horse’s don’t grow horns out of their head’
Isn’t sure if he’s a gold Lynel or just blond (they’re just blond)
Also has a hint of orange in his blue eyes, eyes that glow red on bloodmoons
Unlike their hair they actually like to style their tail a lot, went they went to Gerudo town he was taught how to braid and bun it but can’t do it on his own so let’s Wind do it when he’s bored
Has small horns that Time had to teach him how to take care of, cause who knew horns need maintenance
Literally no one knows how his glider is able to hold him up… or how he climbs literally anything with ease even with his equestrian limbs
Was also one of the first to use Four’s pronouns correctly as they themselves use all pronouns (likes he/they the most tho)
—- Quick sketch of Wild cause I love them with all my heart
Anyway, it’s just a poorly thought out Au and I’ll probably work on it more but have this info dump for a second as I try to figure out what I’m doing with my life,
If y’all have any suggestions have at it,
I just hope my ideas aren’t as jumbled as I think they are
#linked universe#linked universe au#centaur au#linked universe time#linked universe sky#linked universe twilight#linked universe legend#linked universe warriors#linked universe four#linked universe hyrule#linked universe wind#linked universe wild#linked universe drabble#linked universe fanart#headcanon#linked universe headcanons#incorrect quotes#my art#art#fanart#fanfic#linked universe fanfic#botw lynel#lynel#linked universe chain#legend of zelda#legend of zelda au#loz#loz fanart#not me hyperfocusing on a new obsession
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Kisses with Deku, Todoroki, and Bakugo
Deku
I feel like deku would be such a cute awkward mess 🥺
I think that you two would be on a cute date to the park and deku definitely knew this was going to happen today he was thinking about it for a while
He probably brushed his teeth twice, used mouth wash, and chewed gum before you two left for your date his breath is ✨ immaculate ✨
I think he woukd be an okay kisser it’s definitely his first time so he’s not the best
he probably searched up tips on the internet
The kiss would be slow and sweet and he would be blushing he would look like a strawberry
Deku’s stomach was filled with a swarm of butterflies as he gazed into y/n’s eyes. He thought they looked beautiful in the fading glow of the setting sun. Deku’s emerald green eyes sparkled like newly polished jewels, he had a determined look in his eyes as he leaned in closer.
He was merely inches away when his minty breath hit y/n’s face. Deku was blushing so adorably, y/n could almost feel the warmth coming from his face onto their own. His hands hold y/n so tenderly one is y/n’s waist and the other holding their face softly.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question was a soft whisper that made y/n’s heart flutter. Heat rose up to y/n’s face as they slowly nodded their head with a soft, shy smile.
Deku’s lips are soft, and slow as if he is savoring the short moment. He pulls away with a big smile on his face with his eyes still closed. The couple both wear soft smiles on their faces as the setting sun witnesses the soft moment between them.
Deku sticks his hand out for y/n and they intertwine fingers and start making their way back home, unable to keep the blissful smiles off their faces.
Todoroki
He wants to kiss you he just simply doesn’t know how to go about it
He doesn’t really have much experience with touch seeing how he grew up it makes sense
You would probably have to make the first move for many physical interactions with him
I think that he wants to be the one to kiss you first tho, he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re the one initiating everything
I think that when he wants to kiss you properly for the first time he is already used to other touches like cheek kisses
He isn’t as nervous as deku but he’s still nervous but before he can talk himself out of doing it he just goes for it
Todoroki can’t stop staring at your lips. He’s been staring at you the entire time in class, he’s surprised Mr. Aizawa hasn’t called him out yet. Even in the classrooms harsh fluorescent lights you look absolutely stunning to him. He’s jealous of the pencil you lightly tap against your bottom lip as you face forward, paying attention to the lecture.
When class ends Todoroki goes straight to your desk and holds his arm out for you. With a soft smile, that makes Todoroki’s heart stutter, you take it and proceed to walk to your next class with him. You walk down the hall with your hand (he’s scared of the hand crusher curse) on his arm until you reach your class.
Todoroki has a different class but always drops you off at yours before going to his own. As per usual routine Todoroki tilts his head towards you so your lips can graze his cheek softly. Just as you’re about to plant a soft kiss to his cheek he swiftly turns his head and presses his lips to yours.
His eyes are wide open with surprise and so are yours. His pretty eyes glimmer with the fact that he actually did it. He tightly shuts them trying to savor the moment, this is a moment he swears he will never forget.
He will never forget the way you completely filled his senses with your scent, and warmth. He won’t forget the way his left side was a little too hot and his right side was a little too cold. He memorizes the way you perfectly fit in his arms like a puzzle piece.
He will also most definitely never forget the way Miss Midnight interrupted you two and ushered you into her classroom leaving him in the hall. Todoroki stands in the hallway for a few seconds completely stunned with his fingers lightly pressing to his lips.
Todoroki blinks hard and starts making his way back to class but not before sending you a text saying, “I’ll see you later, love♡.”
Bakugou
Completely unplanned
Honestly you two were just really close and that led to him to start thinking about it which then led to it happening
Bakugo brushes his teeth pretty vigorously as we have seen so you better hope this is after he’s brushed his teeth or else you’ll have to deal with the taste of his spicy food
This can go one of two ways
He will either kiss you too hard or will be extremely gentle not wanting to be too harsh with you
If he kisses you, that’s when you should know that he absolutely trusts you and adores you seeing as how he has allowed you to get this close to him
He is definitely inexperienced but that doesn’t change the fact that the way he kisses is something so perfect in his own way
Even if he kisses you gently the kiss will be filled with every emotion he feels for you
Bakugo didn’t plan for this. He didn’t plan for you to get so close to him and he didn’t plan to fall for you so fast. He sits there next you in awe of you.
There is nothing in particular about you that sticks out to him as to why he fell for you so fast. As he watches you work out a problem that you didn’t quite understand it hits him that it was just you as a whole that completely affected him.
You turn to him and give him a huge smile once you’re done with the problem and he can’t help but give back a small smile. His chest feels warm, he feels warm. His hands sweat a little more than usual as he leans closer to you.
You’re looking back down to your notebook. You feel his warm breath over your shoulder and you assume he’s looking at the next problem to see if he can help you.
You turn and look at his beautiful vermillion eyes that look at you as if you are his entire world. Before you can say anything his lips are on yours.
They’re soft yet firm on your lips. His lips that don’t often speak the many emotions he feels are now suddenly showing you everything he feels. They show you that he truly does trust you, why else would he let you get so close to him.
••
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#anime#deku x reader#bnha deku#deku x y/n#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#mha todoroki#todoroki shōto#todoroki x reader#todoroki x y/n
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Tired Feet and Nimble Fingers
Sooo.....
I wrote more Ravio fics. This is one of two, the second one still needs to be reread and checked for errors, but rest assured to whomever requested a fic for Ravio getting some fussing, I nearly killed the kid for you :)
Mr. Hero had nice hands.
Oh sure, they were rather thin, and a bit knobby at the knuckles, aged in a way most people their age would not understand for decades yet, but they were nimble, quick, and forever flitting from one thing to another with the easy grace of a person who’s done everything with their life except sit still and rest.
Mr. Hero’s hands were worn and aged but feather light in their touch and still impossibly firm when he’d grab Ravio by the scarf and pull him down the one inch that was between the two of them so he could glare at him for one thing or another. Honestly, he rarely really did anything questionable, but the ever irritated “Why?” that Mr. Hero always shot at him when he raised the price of an item or tacked on another fee, be it emotional repercussions charges for tending his wounds, or a petty increase when he’d been made to actually worry for someone else, or even in the rare instance when Mr. Hero managed to actually make him angry. Either way, soft or firm, Mr. Hero had nice hands, and on the rare instance Ravio had actually seen him remove his rings (Mr. Hero had complained of swelling, and had nearly had to pry them off) he always smiled at the sight of them.
Was that weird? Probably. But there was a lot you could tell about a person by their hands, and Mr. Hero’s told the story of someone who gave and fought for others since he’d been able, and even if the caring person hid behind the shadows of his bangs or the icy pain in his eyes, Ravio knew that person was still in there.
And at times like this, he got to actually see it.
“What are you doing?” The merchant shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the other end of the couch where Mr. Hero had been sitting since he’d stumbled through the door with a tired groan. He’d collapsed onto the couch not long after, drenched and covered in mud, and it had been all Ravio could do to convince him to shed his extra layers and change into something clean, at least. Sure, he’d had to actually dig through the scant wardrobe in the bedroom to find something, but once the over-sized tunic had been shoved in the veteran hero’s face, he’d agreed to strip off his wet things, and Ravio had given him the space to do so while he’d made some warm cocoa for the two of them.
He would have preferred cider, but Mr. Hero still refused to share the recipe with him.
Now, however, he’d flopped onto the couch himself, uncaring for the fact that he’d had to settle his legs in the lap of his friend. After all, if Mr. Hero minded, he would have pushed him off. As was though, the pink-haired teen was staring at his feet with no small amount of displeasure, and Ravio was half considering pulling them back to himself and resigning himself to just curling up on the couch into one corner so he could give the other boy his space.
Firm hands latched around his boot, tugging with a small grunt and surprising the merchant greatly. “Mr. Hero, I just-”
“No shoes.” The pink-haired hero huffed. “Not on the couch.”
“Says the one who trudges dirt all over my freshly cleaned floors!” Ravio huffed, trying not to wiggle too much as Mr. Hero not only pulled off his shoes but, after making a disgusted face at the smell of his feet, had also yanked his socks off, throwing them over to the pile of sopping laundry on the floor. Ravio made a note to pick that up and help wash it later.
“My floors.” Mr. Hero corrected him, tugging the towel Ravio had given him earlier off of his shoulders and wiping its wet ends over the merchant’s feet, making him stiffen. “It’s my house I’ll have you know.”
“Mr. Hero, are you- are you cleaning my feet?”
“It’s not like you ever do it, when’s the last time you bathed, you filthy bunny?”
“Two days ago.” Ravio huffed into his cocoa, savoring the taste and the thrum of warmth that bloomed in his chest both at the drink and the sensation of Mr. Hero’s nimble fingers helping to clean the grime from his, admittedly, filthy feet. “More recently than you, I daresay, Mr. Hero.”
“I just showered.” Violet eyes flitted up to meet his as Mr. Hero motioned to the door ad likely the stormy weather outside.
“That doesn’t count!”
“It does for me.”
“When did you last bathe? With soap?”
Mr. Hero didn’t answer, instead continuing to rub the dirt and dust off the bottoms of his house-mate's feet with the wet towel. Ravio hmphed. A fight for another day then, it isn’t as if he had the energy to draw a bath and push his friend into it anyways.
A delightful, rough sensation rubbed over the base of his foot, firm and still somehow incredibly relaxing, and the bunny merchant found himself torn between sinking into the cushions with a sigh as some of the pain in his limbs faded and staring down at Mr. Hero to see what had been done. In the end, he’d sunk into the cushions of the couch, lids fluttering as a heavy sigh pulled itself from his lungs. “What-”
“You’re as tight-string as my gran’s horses.” Mr. Hero drawled, and the sensation repeated itself, warm pressure sliding across the ridge of his foot. “This used to work on my uncle, relax.”
It took longer than necessary to actually realize that his friend was rubbing his feet, but Ravio was too warm and comfortable to really care, especially with how sore the appendages in question had been with scurrying here and there over the last few days tending to the shop.
Mr. Hero’s hands were miracle workers, and Ravio was hardly even awake when the veteran hero had finally stopped with his self-assigned task, pushing himself up and leaving Ravio to stretch out over the length of the couch. All the merchant could register was the increase of weight on top of him, the clinking of two empty mugs being placed in the kitchen sink, and the door creaking open.
He never felt the draft when Mr. Hero left back into the outside world to continue his quest, but when he woke the next morning, it was to find the hero’s favorite blanket spread out over the top of him and a fresh pair of fuzzy socks slipped over his clean and no longer painfully tense feet.
“Ravio, sit.” Mr. Hero groaned, leaning back on the couch and pinned in place by the sailor using his legs as a back rest. “If you don’t, I swear I’m going to have Twilight throw you at the couch!”
The merchant in question pouted, he’d been trying his best to tidy the living room, after all, Mr. Hero and his family had been quite unexpected that evening and the place was, unfortunately, a mess. One had to take inventory now and again, and the sad fact of it was that that required pulling everything off the shelves and out of storage and from around the house to count it up and figure out if he should risk attempting to return to Lorule or attempting to work Mr. Hero’s small smithy out back in order to restock his items.
He’d only counted up everything and had been working on cleaning and polishing his various items when the heroes had come knocking at the front door, and then he’d been so busy helping them warm up from the chill (they were all wearing the scarves he’d given them and it pleased him to no end) and making a meal with Mr. Hero that he’d been left unable to finish gathering the things that had been scattered across the floor. Of course, after dinner was finished, he’d set right to it, but now that everyone was settled around the fire with warm mugs in hand and fluffy scarves around their necks, Mr. Hero seemed to only be agitated by his puttering about and moving everything again.
To be fair, he hadn’t stopped moving for the last thirty minutes since the others had helped gather his things back up so they could sit, but there was so much to put away!
“Mr. Hero, I still-”
“Sit.” Mr. Hero squeaked grouchily, earning a few giggles as Mr. Rancher and Mr. Chosen Hero exchanged glances, smiles wide. “My feet hurt just from looking at you.”
Like it or not, Ravio’s ears were already pricking up at those words.
Since that first time, Mr. Hero had done him the favor of massaging his feet after a hard day many times, and as much as Ravio didn’t want to expect it of him, it was incredibly nice to have someone fuss over him, if only for a little bit, and if there was even a chance that it would happen again, well...
It was entirely intentional that he flopped onto the couch, feet resting easily in Mr. Hero’s lap as he stretched out. He could have sat down, he really could, but the fact of it was that he simply didn’t want to. Fortunately, Mr. Hero didn’t seem to mind, and too the merchants delight his friend immediately started pulling off his shoes with the same old familiar huff and wrinkling of his button nose, tossing the shoes as far away as possible to avoid having to remain in contact with them for long.
It was a practiced and much appreciated ritual that was Mr. Hero helping him relax after a long day. Just as cocoa or cider was prepared when either was having a particularly long or difficult day, or how Ravio always made sure Mr. Hero ate three meals a day and slept for at least four hours, taking care that his friend wasn’t positioned too uncomfortably wherever it was that he finally passed out. Mr. Hero touching his feet was normal, just like him playing with Mr. Hero’s hair once the other boy had settled down at last.
Perhaps though, it wasn’t all that common for the others.
“Vet?”
Mr. Hero blinked up from his work, violet eyes meeting the midnight blue of Mr. Rancher impassively.
“What in Ordonia are ya doin’?”
The veteran hero cocked a brow. “Foot massage, he won’t relax otherwise, and foot pains a-” Captain Hero Sir Jr. shot a look their way and Mr. Hero quickly amended what he’d been about to say. “Foot pain sucks.”
“You are touching feet.” Mr. Rancher wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that a bit... gross?”
“Says the man who eats bee larva.” Came the quipped reply. “I wash them first, pities sakes.”
“By my head!?!?!?” Tune started jumping up and away and shooting Mr. Hero a hurt look. “Like, yeah, sure, I help Granny on bad days too, but warn a fellow if you’re gonna be having feet by his head.”
“Don’t sit on my legs.”
Ravio chuckled, letting the noise and chatter wash over him.
Mr. Hero’s hands never failed to sooth the pains of the day.
The heroes had stumbled in time and again over the months, and Ravio had grown quite used to their presence. Time passed differently on both ends of things, but he’d since learned when abouts to expect that they'd appear, and the house was, thankfully, stocked fully for each visit.
Autumn had brought about harvest, and the heroes had darted in and out, occasionally offering help and other times only crashing wearily in the living room and Mr. Hero’s bedroom for the night before they had to return to chasing the monsters. Today was one of the longer stays, especially if how Mr. Captain Hero Sir was moving so stiffly was any indication.
“Do you need me to step on you again?” Mr. Smithy asked worriedly as Mr. Captain Hero Sir eased his way down onto the couch, earning a few looks both from the merchant and the other heroes while Sheerow flitted about the man's head, chirruping worriedly and earning a gentle word or so from the captain.
Mr. Captain Hero Sir was in quite the state, stiff as a board and moving as poorly as the old pump in the village. It made him worried, and try as he might, he couldn’t think of any of his items that would help.
Mr. Hero appeared to already have an answer though. “Tunic off, Cap, and on the couch.”
Sharp blue blinked over in confusion to where Mr. Hero was already shedding his boots and rolling up his sleeves with a purpose. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Massage. Works wonders for back pain. Hop to it or I’m rescinding my offer.”
It was one thing to be on the receiving end of matters, but another entirely to be one of those who watched. Mr. Hero put his full weight into his hands as he worked, kneading out the knots in his friend's muscles while Mr. Captain Hero Sir melted into the couch with little relieved noises.
Maybe it took the others realizing that the vet didn’t just help him, but after that it wasn’t at all uncommon for him to carry in his attempts at cider or his wonderful cocoa and see Mr. Hero standing over one of the others and putting his clever hands to work in soothing tensed muscles back into place, the heroes under his hands melting under his touch.
The first time he heard Mr. Hero humming under his breath while he worked, the other heroes had all looked incredibly surprised, but not upset in the slightest. It was a lovely tune after all, and Tune himself started playing with his baton in time the gentle music, swaying in his seat and waving the instrument while the others continued working on repairing and tending their various items and clothing articles.
There was a pattern. For Mr. Captain Hero Sir it was his back, although rather rarely, and the same went for Mr. Chosen Hero.
For Captain Hero Sir Jr. It was his neck and shoulders.
Mr. Smithy got stress headaches that seemed to ease when someone helped message his temples.
Mr. Rancher had problems with his left wrist specifically.
Ravio of course had poor feet, and while Tune and Wild seemed to be mostly left unscathed from the repetitive pains that the others did, they took every opportunity to cling to Mr. Hero with their whole bodies when they felt that they wanted pets or attention when their mentor’s/brothers were too busy.
He’d attempted to return the favor all of one time. The black eye and bloody nose he got out of it weren’t even made better with the nearly tearful apologies of his best friend as Mr. Hero had jumped to his feet and dashed outside to get some ice for the injury.
Once the blood was cleaned up, the vet had sat in shame as Ravio had joined the others in teasing him for his “killer reflexes”.
“I can’t help it! People touching my feet- It-” Mr. Hero tugged at his hair frustratedly, eyes turning to the sky hopelessly. “I’m sorry, Ravio. It was an accident, I swear.”
“I know, Mr. Hero, I know.” He’d giggled out the reassurance, but from that day on he avoided touching Mr. Hero’s feet in any way possible.
(Oddly enough though, that didn’t stop a few of the others from trying, and Mr. Hero’s sleep was interrupted many times by heroes that had been kicked in the nose or even the mouth because they’d dared each other to touch the teen’s feet while he slept. Mr. Captain Hero Sir had complained for days until his own black eye healed, and Mr. Hero hadn’t even bother apologizing, stating that the others shouldn’t have tempted fat so foolishly.)
He felt a bit guilty for not returning the favor, but he knew better than to try again where so many others had failed.
And then winter had sprung up. Winter with its harsh gales that blew in half frozen heroes that tracked ice and snow across the floor as they bundled in front of the fire, wrapped head to toe for the weather. Winter when he’d brew hot cocoa to warm them all up, letting Mr. Hero tug down blankets to wrap around their on-and-off house-mates (guests no longer applied at this point). The mugs offered were warm, and Ravio smiled as each hero offered him a word of thanks as his tray grew lighter and lighter until he only had the two mugs left.
Mr. Hero had pulled together his usual nest before the fire. His huge blanket and a few spare pillows all bundled together into a comfortable place to sit for the younger heroes in order to make up for the lack of a second couch, and the vet sat in its center, still working to arrange the cushions with stiff fingers and chattering teeth until Ravio had pulled on his friend’s tunic and urged him to sit down.
When he offered the mug though, Mr. Hero had fumbled it and nearly dropped it, a hiss of irritation whishing from between his teeth and he glared down at his stiff digits. “Blast! Din’s sake, why does the freaking cold always freaking-”
Warm hands, worn from housekeeping and smithy work, wrapped around the vet’s as Ravio gently rubbed some warmth back into the stiff fingers. Mr. Hero started slightly at the touch, but didn’t complain as the merchant continued to press his into the rises and against the bones of his friend’s gnarled hands, offering warmth and relief against the pain and the cold both for a few short minutes, and Mr. Hero melted into the touch, as he always inevitably did, letting Ravio have his way for the moment and leaning to sit back-to-back with Wild while the merchant worked.
When he’d released his housemate, it’d only been to press a mug into the vet’s hands, but then he’d been settling across from him on the blanket nest, stockinged feet coming to rest in his friend’s lap as he’d pulled his own mug close for a sip. Violet eyes offered a begrudging smile that was returned in rupee green, but no words were spoken between the two as they enjoyed their cocoa.
Mr. Captain Hero Sir however wasn’t about to let it pass. “So, hand holding now, uh? Should I be talking to Fable about a wedding day?”
Ravio was certain that the only thing keeping some very rude signs from being exchanged as the fact that Mr. Hero wasn’t willing to stress his hands further or release the warmth that he held in them. The pink-haired hero did shoot a very disappointed look towards the captain though.
#do not tag as ravio/i#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu legend#lu ravio#fluffics#ketto's cottagecore collection#idiot writes fluff#idiot writes cottagecore
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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine
A/N: I just felt like it, this is pretty self-indulgent tbh. also please buy my stickers on etsy. Please. I worked so hard and I'm so scared they're going to flop.
* Yo babe, this guy is like your #1 supporter
* Like there’s two ways he meets you. The first is probably like that romantic “it’s fate” type of way, and the second is one of his brothers sets him up with you
* The first one is sort of romantic- you meet him when you’re still young at some book signing or a poetry reading or something
* And he sits next to you, and you start chatting a little about the author and their work
* “You sound like a writer” Jason says, and you blush a little
* “I guess I am” you’re just starting out though
* “What kinda stuff do you write?” He asks
* “The bad kind”
* He laughs at that
* And there’s this sort of romantic mood over the scene, like he just knows you’re going to be special to him
* But then the reading ends, and he’s waiting for it- to give you his number or to you see again but he never does
* You just get up and leave
* He see’s you again years later, at a charity ball Bruce is forcing him to go to “public appearance is important” and “optics need to be good” or something
* And you’re there, one hand on Dick’s arm, and the other around a flute of champagne
* “Oh, (Y/N)- this is my little brother Jason, Jason this is (Y/N)”
* The hand wrapped around Dick’s arm unfurls to hold his own, Jason can’t take his eyes off of yours
* “Nice to meet you”
* And there’s no familiar glint in your eyes, this isn’t some inside joke-
* You really don’t remember him
* “Nice to meet you too,” Jason says giving you a firm squeeze back
* Your hand is soft
* He can picture it, desperately clutching a pen, flying across a page, and scribbling all the ideas in your mind-
* It feels like a writers hand
* “(Y/N)’s an aspiring writer,” Dick says, and Jason flinches.
* So you are still writing
* “I’m not an aspiring writer, I am a writer”
* Jason doesn’t miss the slight bite in your words, despite your expressionless exterior
* “No I mean like a real writer- a published writer”
* “I am a published writer” you sigh, and Jason guesses you’re exasperated
* “Oh really where at?” Dick asks, and Jason almost wants to strangle his brother. Here’s the person of his dreams, and Dick had the stupid dumb luck to date them first- only to say all the wrong things.
* But before you can answer Dick’s eyes light up as they hover over the bar-
* Then out of nowhere, he grabs your champagne flute away from you
* “You’re running low huh?” The flute is mostly full, Jason notices. “I’ll get you another”
* And then he’s gone, leaving just you and Jason
* “I’m going to take a wild stab here, and say you’re not dating my brother”
* You shake your head with a small smile
* “This would be pretty sad if we were,” you say, picking up a champagne flute from a nearby server
* Jason mirrors the motion
* “Dick said he wanted to make an ex jealous, it’s a mutually beneficial situation”
* You motion to the bar, and sure enough Dick’s chatting up a familiar redhead Jason knows all too well
* “What do you get out of this?” The question is punctuated with a sip of champagne and your lips quirk into a small smile
* “I’ve never been to an event like this,” your eyes sweep the room- marble columns and men with shiny cuff links and tuxedos and women in polished gowns
* It’s like something out of a tv show
* “I thought it might be good for my writing” you shrug, your editor is always saying that you need more romantic elements in your work
* “Well you don’t need Dick for that,” Jason takes a sip of his champagne “I’m right here”
* You grin, and Jason has to pinch himself to snap out of the way you dazzle him
* “What a gentleman,” you say, still smiling, though it’s dimmed
* “Anything to support the arts”
* Elsewhere at the bar-
* “Do you think they’re hitting it off?” Barbara asks, and Dick grins
* “Of course they are, they’re a writer- Jason loves to read, it’s a match made in heaven”
* Barbara rolls her eyes, but she’ll admit, you guys look good together
* Things move fast after that, the way they always seem to when people are happy
* First dates at the pier
* Second dates watching bad movies and smuggling wine into a movie theatre
* Third dates where you do nothing but kiss
* Bookstore trips, late nights where you do nothing but dream
* Jason knows you’re getting close when you open up to him about your art
* “I’ve had this idea in my head for months now but it just won’t come out”
* And you’re taking such a huge chance talking about this- how many times have you been told to quit while you’re ahead, or ridiculed, treated as an annoyance, or even laughed at for opening up about your work.
* So the pure joy Jason shows when you speak to him about it makes your heart skip
* “Tell me about it, what kind of a story is it?”
* And this is such a vulnerable moment for both of you- but Jason makes it seem like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like this is how it should have been with everyone before
* And honestly it’s healing
* This dork will buy any magazine or journal you’re printed in and ask you to sign it
* If it’s web-only, he’ll print out your story on high-quality paper and ask you to sign that
* “You know you didn’t have to buy one, I have like 12 contributor copies,” you say hiding your smile as you indulge him by signing the cover
* “I just happened to see it-”
* He didn’t just ‘happen to see it’ he preordered this copy a month ago
* “Besides I like supporting your work”
* And no ones ever loved you like this, so you hide your smile behind your hand
* “Anything to support the art right?”
* “Exactly,” he says with a grin
* If you write a book and add his name to the dedications/acknowledgments he’ll straight-up start crying
* “Jason-“
* You’re a little concerned, you didn’t even write anything mushy just ‘For Jason, my number one supporter’
* When he finally shows his face from behind his hand he’s smiling so wide with the brightest blush on his face
* “This is my favorite book,” he says hugging the copy to his chest
* And you just smile
* He buys two books, one to make notes in and the other to keep in a shadow box
* Speaking of books-
* If you guys live together you have a lot
* Like seriously almost TOO many
* Have you guys seen that tik tok of the girl whose parents are professors and they have a whole house just COVERED in books- like even the bathroom
* Yeah
* That’s your house!!
* Well, probably apartment, but yeah
* You have a “guest bedroom”
* But really it’s a library with a bed in the middle
* Your living room has every wall covered in bookshelves and one small empty spot so he could mount the television
* It makes perfect sense- one bookshelf Is yours, one is for reference material, one is to keep all the stuff you get published, one bookshelf is for Jason, another is for shared classics, another is books you guys share with signed books in it, another is just a display case really
* And so on
* “Do you ever think we have too many books?” You ask Jason one night over cups of chamomile tea
* He looks up from the book in his lap, reading glasses slipping down
* “I think we’re the only people who have the correct amount of books”
* You grin
* “Yeah I think so too”
* He would totally show up to all your readings and book signings
* Your manager/agent might start to get worried
* “You don’t think he’s a stalker do you?”
* “Nah that’s just my boyfriend” you say with a smile, blowing a kiss in his direction
* Just- supportive Jason who loves that you were born to tell stories
#batman imagine#jason todd zine#Jason Todd imagine#jason todd heacanon#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#Jason Todd#red hood#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#dc comics imagine#superhero--imagines#dc comics
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lesson learned
pairing: nerd!jaemin x reader
genre: smut / slight fluff
warnings: language, unprotected sex (stay safe!), riding, thigh riding, grinding, finger sucking, dirty talk, slight degradation
prompts: none
summary: tinted cheeks and sheepish glances might’ve been a delight to observe every time his eyes scanned intellectual phrases on books, but as your words reached dangerous levels, you realized not all is what it seems.
requested by anon.
word count: 2.5k
note: anonnie... I think I got carried away with this a lil bit, oops. I hope you enjoy this though, thank you for requesting! jaemin with glasses is superior oof
cherrysung’s navigation
Na Jaemin. Pink cheeks and flushed neck and ears, thin-rimmed glasses that rested peacefully on the bridge of the most perfect nose you’d seen, and his sharp eyes that appeared narrow and hooded as they scanned over way too complicated words that showed up unnecessarily in fiction books.
He wasn’t the stereotypical nerd, in fact, he quite honestly debunked endless labels and beliefs that people like him had endured for years. Unlike portrayed in movies or anywhere else, Na Jaemin was impressingly handsome if you said so yourself. Masculine yet soft features adorned the smooth of his skin like a freshly painted artwork, facial structure built with a jawline that you’d mistake to be carved out by the gods themselves if you didn’t know any better, and an overall physique that even the most athletic guys at college envied. How come the school’s certified nerd was also the biggest hottie? Pair that up with a well-mannered and gentle personality—you get the sweetest boy at heart.
Conservative and reserved most of the time, with his second home being the local library, Jaemin was almost always indulged in some sort of imaginary world. Although popular for his looks, nobody dared approach him, as everybody knew how much he overflowed with shyness, and even oftentimes unintentionally blocked out the social souls that made an effort to utter a word to him.
It didn’t come as a surprise that his grades were also astronomically A+ class and more. There was no need for him to search with concern over universities and a promising education, because unlike you, they actually chased after him. On the other hand, though you did an okay job at even the most challenging subjects, it wasn’t enough to you or to your demanding and irritable parents. Given that, your teacher thought that if you really wanted to improve, getting Jaemin assigned as a tutor seemed like a perfect idea.
Indeed; it was.
Somehow the smartest and quietest senior also turned out to be picky. His looks weren’t the only thing he was popular for—his constant declines on those who wished desperately for his help was too. To say you were shocked that he agreed to lend you a hand, was an understatement.
You officially met Jaemin on a Monday afternoon when the bell rang loudly throughout the empty halls and students escaped tiredly the dull classrooms as if they were prisons. Your calculus teacher called you and the boy over to her wooden, polished desk, where piles of papers that were filled with red marks stacked up. Jaemin carried himself gracefully at all times, dressed in black sweatpants and a white t-shirt with black shoes, you genuinely wondered how such a simple outfit suddenly looked expensive. Not only did his clothes seem to be put together, so did his life in general. He would never miss a day of college even if destiny wanted him to, and his schedule was so precise you felt like an absolute shame next to him.
“Mr. Na Jaemin,” the teacher cleared her throat, hands twirling a red-inked pen between her fingers as she smiled at the boy standing next to you. “At this point, I don’t know why I bother with you anymore, you always seem to decline. But, I thought I should ask you if you were up to helping your fellow classmate over here. She surely has potential, but is clearly struggling.”
You shifted nervously on your feet, cheeks becoming a faint tint of rosy red as your teacher slid over your calculus test towards Jaemin. It read D+. Nearly the entirety of the front page was marked in red, multiple comments explaining why your answers were wrong and circles pointing out your hideous mistakes all for a genius to judge.
His eyes skimmed over your answers, a smile threatening to creep up on his pink lips at just how ridiculous and senseless your processes could get. “I see. Yeah, she seems to have an idea of the topics but probably gets confused easily.”
Ouch.
“Well, would you do me the favor of maybe tutoring her every week for, say, a month?”
He glanced down at you for a split second, gaze returning back to the test in his hands as fast as he had looked away from it. His words sounded direct, leaving his lips with security and firm knowledge; yet, you were sure you could feel his timidity from classrooms away.
“Sure.”
Two weeks later, Jaemin had been tutoring you patiently, sharing his knowledge and tips as best as he could. You discovered, conversational skills and socializing definitely weren’t Jaemin’s specialty, his words spilling from his lips in stumbles and stutters that sounded adorable nonetheless. Contrary to the way he spoke whenever you casually asked him something about him—whether it be his personality, where he’s from, the things he enjoys—to the way his sentences flowed flawlessly whenever he was explaining how a math problem worked, was intriguing to you.
There was something about him that felt new, and mysterious. He was introverted, quite protective of his surroundings and himself; though, somehow the way his middle finger elegantly pushed his spectacles up a tiny bit, and the way his hand occasionally brushed with yours whenever he turned to a new page on your alarmingly huge calculus textbook was doing things to you.
“So, Jaemin,” you interrupted him, his head rising up in question at your sudden intrusion, hand holding a pencil he had been using to point out esencial steps for Definite Integrals. The two of you were currently sitting at your study desk in your bedroom, home alone on a slightly rainy Friday evening, with papers lying around the table and the floor that had infinite math practice tests he had obligated you to do. “How are you so good at calculus. Well, everything, honestly?”
The tip of his ears flushed a deep shade of pink at your indirect compliment, visibly swallowing as his Adam’s apple swiftly moved up and then down. “Uh, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always practiced a lot as a kid? Maths is my favorite subject so it’s not hard for me…”
His attention was never on you, instead, his eyes shifted awkwardly as long as they successfully avoided your own. You were enjoying his confusion more than you’d like to admit, collecting your thoughts and speaking up once again before he returned to explaining boring equations or graphs. “Why’d you agree to help me? You never help.”
He wordlessly shrugged, hand scratching the back of his head with what appeared nervousness as his eyes solely rested on the paper before him and the paper alone. You thought his face became progressively warmer, a light smile etching across your face. “Are you sure you don’t know?” You glanced at him, turning your chair around to face his side profile directly. “I think there must be a reason.”
“There’s none.” He muttered through gritted teeth, the apple of his cheeks becoming impossibly redder by the minute. “Let’s move on to the next topic—”
“Oh, but are you sure there really is no reason at all? ‘Cause you seem to be hardcore blushing right now.” Your finger moved under his chin, gently guiding his eyes towards yours. “Am I the reason for your obvious struggle, Na Jaemin? Do you, maybe, have the hots for me?”
“Y/N, just—you need to, uh, continue practicing.”
“I don’t want to practice anymore.” A giggle left your lips, face nearing the boy’s hot ears. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I think you are so handsome, and I can tell you like me too. Or don’t you?”
“Y/N—”
“Don’t you, Jaemin?”
A quiet curse rumbled throughout his chest and out his lips, hands quickly snapping up to grasp your own. “You really don’t want to bother me right now. Stop.”
“I do want to bother you. I know you’re not some innocent, saint boy, Jaemin. Stop putting up that pure act with me, it’s not working.”
“Alright,” Jaemin mumbled, eyes sharply boring into yours, “then you asked for it.” He roughly pulled you towards him, your wheeled chair sliding back at the impact as your legs almost instantly straddled him. With no more words said, his hands softly kneaded your ass, pressing his hardening member directly on your heat as he began rapidly guiding you up and down his covered length.
Whimpers stumbled off your lips at his movements, hands flying up to hold onto his shoulders for balance. Quite frankly, you never thought Jaemin would do this.
“Cat got your tongue suddenly, princess?” Your breath hitched at the pet name, and Jaemin could only smirk at your reaction. “You were all talk and no game? Where did that confidence go? You are such a needy, little bitch. Be a good girl and ride my thigh like the desperate slut you are—wanting to fuck me instead of practicing your math equations.”
He parted his legs, and you were quick to take off your shorts, sitting on the textured fabric of his denim jeans as your hips continued their previous ministrations with Jaemin’s harsh grasp. Moans were leaving you in an uncontrollable mess, feeling so little and helpless under a boy’s gaze whom everybody believed is a harmless child. There was a look plastered on his features that you wanted engraved in your mind forever; pearly whites sinking tenderly into a swollen, red bottom lip, glasses hanging lowly on his nose, and a hooded stare due to the growing wetness on your sheer panties that seeped out onto his jeans.
Fuck, did those glasses make him look so sinful.
“Jaemin,” you stuttered, “I need to cum.”
“Already? We just started the fun, princess.” His actions contradicted his words, hands moving your hips faster on his thigh as he squeezed the muscles, igniting louder sounds of pleasure from you. “Are you close?”
You nodded frantically, no longer giving care to the huge wet patch you had created on his pants, allowing his hands to move you as fast as he wished, pussy clenching around nothing every time your clit ran over the coarse fabric.
“Go ahead, princess, come all over my thigh, you fucking dirty girl. Make a mess.”
His whispers were enough to bring you to your climax, legs shaking unstoppably as your hips stilled abruptly. Jaemin rubbed your back softly, bringing your chin up to lock lips with you. Ardent, and full of lust, the feeling of his tongue running over your bottom lip brought another wave of heat that pooled between your legs, and he could surely feel it. Pulling away, with a string of saliva attaching the two of you, Jaemin unbuckled the leather belt before unbuttoning his jeans, only pushing them down enough to release his dick. It sprung proudly out of his briefs, gently hitting his belly and begging to be played with.
Jaemin smirked at your wide eyes, your gaze running up and down the veiny cock, with a final touch of an angry and red tip at the top that was leaking with pre-cum.
“Can I suck you?”
“Not today, babygirl, do that some other time,” he shook his head, fingers moving your panties to the side and placing you on top of his hard length, “right now all I want is to feel your dripping, pretty pussy. Ride me.”
You silently obliged like the good girl he thought you were, wet cunt sinking on his dick as your walls instantly welcomed him with endless warmth.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he lowly cursed, “such a fucking good girl. Why don’t we teach you some basic math while you ride my dick? Come on.” His index and middle fingers tapped your bottom lip, your mouth wrapping around them. “You’re going to answer while you suck on my fingers as if it were my cock.”
On cue to his words, your tongue swirled around his digits experimentally while he ruthlessly thrusted up into your tight pussy with a never ending pace.
“What’s seven plus five, princess?”
You whined on his digits, finding the task harder than you expected as his dick was everything you could think about. Jaemin filled you up so well, fingers occasionally driving into the back of your throat as you choked around them. Tears had begun pooling in your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment as you gagged around his digits once again. “Twelve!”
“Good job,” he delivered a particularly hard thrust, hitting on your sweet spot successfully and earning himself nearly a scream from you. “What about eighteen plus nine? What’s the answer?”
At this point, he was doing all the work, dick sliding in and out of your walls so fast and deliciously. The only sound you could hear around your bedroom was both your skins’ slapping, and sometimes the choked up cries that left your lips whenever his fingers reached too far back in your throat. Your thoughts only revolved around how good Jaemin was fucking you, and how good the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose looked as he bit his lip. “Twenty-seven!” You struggled to answer, but managed to regardless of his merciless thrusts.
“Four minus nineteen? You got three seconds to answer, sweets.” Jaemin smirked, free hand reaching down to circle rapidly around your clit, his hips speeding up even more. “One.”
“Jaemin, I’m so close!”
He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drool running down your chin as he wiped his digits on his shirt. “Answer me, or you don’t come.”
Your thoughts were absolutely jumbled, puzzled and confused, searching hazily for a simple answer you couldn’t remember.
“Two.” The movements of his fingers on your swollen bud were beginning to slow down.
“Jaemin, wait!”
“Three—”
“Negative! Negative fifteen, the answer is negative fifteen.”
He cooed at you, speeding up his actions once more as you cried out, head resting on his shoulder tiredly while you slightly bit into the flesh, eliciting hisses that flew from his lips.
“Fuck, I’m so close. Princess, can I fill you up with my cum?”
“Please,” tears ran down your face, your cries muffled as you nuzzled your face into his neck, “please do. Come inside of me, Jaemin, fill me up so well.”
Your desperate pleads and the frantic clenching of your pussy were enough to bring him to the edge, your release following not much long after as his warm cum completely coated your walls white, some seeping out from your cunt and onto his member. Jaemin eventually slowed down his thrusts to a stop, chest heaving up and down as pants left the two of you.
“For your information, I do have the hots for you, too.” He exhaled out a laugh, pulling your body closer to his and gently pecking the top of your head.
“I can’t believe everybody calls you a nerd,” you chuckled, “you literally fucked me into oblivion.”
“Well, you were riling me up. I hope you learned your lesson, little miss.”
“Yeah, I did.” You admitted with a giggle.
“Well, you better keep that pretty mouth closed, we don’t want people knowing the school’s nerd wrecked you so bad, right? Besides, I don’t think I want this to just be a one time thing.” Your head rose at his confession, eyes looking into his own for an answer. “How about a date tomorrow?”
You smiled, sweetly pecking his cheek. “I’d love that. How about I suck your cock after that?”
Jaemin smirked, “your house or mine?”
#neowritingsnet#na jaemin#jaemin#jaemin smut#jaemin fluff#jaemin scenarios#jaemin imagines#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#nct smut#nct fluff#jaemin blurbs#jaemin drabbles#nct dream scenarios#nct scenarios#nct jaemin#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#jaemin fics#nct fics#nct dream fics#nct dream imagines#na jaemin smut#na jaemin fluff#na jaemin blurbs#na jaemin drabbles#na jaemin scenarios
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Can I have Saiki fluff
kusou, let’s sleepover!
(saiki kusou x reader)
<3 note: thank you so much for the request my dear! sorry it took so long i’m in the middle of alot of things right now. but i hope this is ok!
<3 warnings: a small bit of swearing, just fluff.
<3 things to know: gender neutral reader. pink: is saiki’s thoughts, green is saiki talking to the reader through thoughts, black is saiki and reader talking normally. purple is readers thoughts. << it’s a lot i’m sorry!!
you and saiki have been dating for three months on this saturday and the time has flown by! another thing that’s flown is how quick he got comfortable around you, having an arm around your shoulder while watching movies and even holding your pinkie when you go shopping. in school he always looked so reserved and kept to himself, that’s what drew you to him though. and when you found an envelope with a letter in your shoe locker telling you to meet them at the local park later on, you felt like turning them down cause you liked saiki!. but something, you don’t know what, but something was telling you that you need to go. and low and behold stood kusou saiki with his head down asking if you wanted to go to the local café this weekend. and obviously you said yes!
3 months later and were in the same café scoffing down some coffee jelly and (fav. food). you brought him here because you wanted to ask him something important. to have a sleepover for your anniversary! honestly, you were scared to ask him, what if he completely shoots you down? god that would be embarrassing. but all your friends and their partners have slept over together countless times. okay, no more delaying do it now while he’s in his element.
“ku? can i as-” “don’t call me that, it reminds me of my mom remember” “oh sorry sorry i forgot! anyway umm i was wondering if, for our you know, anni..versary if you’d like to uh sleepover?” when you look up to see his reaction is eyes are wide and he’s slightly coughing on his coffee jelly. ‘shit, i killed him’. you thought. “it’s okay if you don’t want to i understand we can do something else!” “no!” he slightly yelled. “i mean.. yeah i’d like to do that”. “y-you do? i mean, yeah that’s good! i was thinking saturday?” “yeah that’s sounds good, by the way, can we do it at your house? my parents are too annoying” his genuine cringe at the thought made you laugh. “of course we can, we can do different things throughout the night to! we could.. order a takeout, then watch a movie with lots of sweets, then maybe, just maybe do paint our nails or do some karaoke” the last one is just to see his reaction knowing how much he dislikes karaoke. “i’m not to fond of that last one, but the rest sound fun” ‘maybe this would be nice, i shouldn’t think that it won’t be’.
the week went quickly thankfully and you walked to meet saiki on midday saturday with a spring in your step. “kusou!” your slightly raised voice caught his attention causing him to turn his head in your direction and make his way to your approaching form. without thinking you pulled him into a hug in the middle of the street. “oh sorry i should’ve asked before i did that!” he pulled away first smoothing out your skirt that rode up telling you: “it’s fine don’t worry about it so much, let’s go” and taking your pinky and linking it with his. looking at the side of his face you took in his handsome features and how nice he looked in his outfit. it was a purple sweater with black flames and blue jeans you got him.he wasn’t to fond of it at first but seeing how excited you were to give it to him he eventually broadened his style.
you both wanted to meet in the town so you could buy the sweets, drinks and facemasks for tonight and then get the takeout on the way home. there wasn’t many people out, they’re probably all at home it’s dinner time anyway. looking down at saiki’s hand you noticed the ring on his pointer finger he always wears when he’s with you. “kusou? where did you get your ring it’s so nice!, i might try find a different colour one for myself” “it was, a gift, yes a gift”. conversations carried on as normal as they day bled into the evening and you both left the shopping district with two bags full of the essentials. the final stop of the day was the local chinese you both enjoyed eating from and you got your food given to you nice and quickly.
arriving at your door you opened it and placed the bags on the kitchen table to give your poor hands a rest. “could you get the bowls for the sweets for me and sort them out while i dish up kusou?” “of course”. dinner was really nice the both of you talking when your mouths weren’t full about things that happend and every few minutes you’d show him a funny tiktok you’d seen that he’d actually huff out a laugh at, but covered it up with a cough saying that “it’s silly”. ever the gentleman he helped you wash and dry the dishes before following your skipping figure to the living room to plop on the couch and randomly picked a movie out. ‘ah a horror’ ‘good grief of course a horror’.
the movie was actually quite scary giving the both of you a few scares the whole way through. you didn’t want to be forward and do the usual ‘curl into your partners side’ when it got scary, but your body moved on it’s own and you were clutching his lower arm and holding his bicep slightly over your eyes. ‘hmm cute’. as the end credits rolled you let out a breath and let your iron grip on his arm to stretch your own above your head. “that wasn’t that scary, it barely got me” “yeah, my dead arm says otherwise” “oh shush smart ass!” you turned to his smirking figure to land a slap on the said arm. “ouch! careful it’s sore” “awe poor ku-chan has a sore arm hm? want me to kiss it better for you baby?” “never ever let them words leave your mouth around me again”. his disgust had you throwing your head back and clapping your hands together in a laughing fit.
it just turned 10:03pm and the two of you were sitting crossed legged on your bed. you had saiki’s hand on a pillow on your lap trying to apply the green nail polish to his nails without messing up. finishing both hands you picked them up and held them in front of his face to show him the four green nails and one pink on the middle finger of each hand. yours were the same except you had the green on your middle and the rest pink. “well what d’ya think? nice aren’t they?” “mmh, thank you”.
a few hours past of playing a game of monopoly, in which kusou completely dominated, watching your guys favourite youtuber play scary games and then watch a few episodes of the show you both liked. the time was 1:54am when the pair of you let out a yawn at the same time ending in a small laugh. deciding it was time to sleep you let saiki get changed in the toilet down the hall while you stayed in your room till he came back to tell you it was okay to come brush your teeth. “kusou, do you want some water? i’m getting some for myself” “oh, yeah please (y/n)”. he was left alone to look at the four walls of your bedroom. he wasn’t really being nosy, he was just curious. wait, how could he just have now noticed? there’s no spare blanket or futon. we’re you going to share a bed? ‘i mean, i’m not opposed to the idea, i wonder if they realised as well’.
“here you go! sorry i took so long” “don’t worry you’re fine”. “oh yeah i was gonna ask, do you want to sleep on the floor or we can share my bed, it’s a double one so we won’t be squished” “i don’t mind sharing as long as your comfortable” ‘why is he so sweet and caring!’. “i’m turning the lights off is that ok?” “yeah it’s fine, don’t let the monster get you though” he said while digging his fingers into your side when you jumped back on the bed. “whaa! agh don’t scare me like that!, meanie”.
you couldn’t really sleep after you said your goodnights, you were tired but seeing him look so relaxed while lying on his side facing you made you feel wide awake. the urge to place a small kiss on his lips was killing you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to. ‘what if he’s fake sleeping? god he’ll think i’m a freak.’ no you could tell by the way his breathing was soft and lips slightly parted that he was definitely out for the count. before you could react you were leaning forward to place a small, quick, but sweet kiss on his pink lips. ‘oh my god why did i just do that, why did i jus-‘ “kissing me in my sleep? you didn’t strike me as the type (y/n)”. “you’re awake?! why are you fake sleeping?” “why are you kissing me hm?” “c-cause i wanted to!” you said sticking your tongue out. “well i never said i was mad, i just wish i could’ve been awake” “you were awake jackass” “nope i was sleeping, counting sheep if you will” “oh you got jokes now huh?” “i always have jokes i’ll have you know” “just go back to dream land then funny guy” turning over to have your back facing him you closed your eyes until you felt the mattress behind you dip and a soft breath by your ear. “not even a ‘goodnight kusou’ how cruel”. tired of his silly antics your turn halfway to be met with his face above yours. pulling him down to lightly press another peck on his lips you whispered: “goodnight kusou”. before turning fully the other way and snuggled into his chest. you don’t know where the sudden confidence came from but it felt nice to have the stoic kusou saiki cuddled up in your bed with his arms around your middle and a light blush dusting his cheeks. “goodnight (y/n)” was the last thing you heard before the clouds of dreams took over you.
-end <3
#🤍.kusou#💌.requests#💒.milly answers#🧸.soft times#saiki x y/n#saiki kusuo#kusou saiki#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#saiki headcanons#saiki x reader#saiki k#asks <3
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Leporina venatio
leporina venatio (latin): rabbit hunt
Summary: You’ve cleaned it. You’ve groomed it. You’ve run your fingers through it - time to get around to wear it. Tobirama’s fur collar has got to be the number one prize - except he’d never actually let you adorn it. You’ll just have to help yourself to it a little bit differently, no? I COULDN’T RESIST... In response to the lovely headcanons @cafeinthemoon! Go check them out!
Warnings: the fact I really suck at comedy? And slightly suggestive tones in the end. SFW, though, don’t worry!
~3.200k words Read on AO3!
He opened his eyes lazily. The sun was already filtering warmly through the window and with a content sigh he reached over to - Empty. Tobirama turned over to find your side of the bed vacant - cold, even. He huffed. Now he couldn’t deny being slightly miffed that you’d rather rise on your own than spend a few precious moments with him, awake, in bed - as you used to, on your off-duty days; but being the man he was, there must be a reason behind all this. Maybe you had prepared breakfast, received an urgent message… a multitude of logical reasons were plausible.
He still was annoyed. Those were your shared off days, after all. Precious and few inbetween. With a shake of his head and sigh he rose to get dressed in his dark casual attire. His scarlet gaze swept the room for any clues regarding your departure. At the very least he expected you to leave some kind of message behind for him to find - if you really did leave without any hint at all? However he came up short. Leaving the bedroom and entering the narrow hall, he found there was no smell of fresh food being cooked either, which ruled out the breakfast option. Tobirama’s heart sank a little. So much for a calm day off, then.
Quietly, as a last resort he tentatively called out - “Y/n?”
No answer. Closing his eyes momentarily he sent out a weak pulse of chakra and tuned into his sensor skills to see if you were anywhere nearby, but none of the signatures belonged to you. Opening his eyes again, he stemmed his palms to his hips and frowned deeply. Had you actually left just like that?
Suddenly, his gaze widened as a more sinister thought occurred to him.
Had something happened to you?
His frown deepened. Should he check the hospital - should he -
Then he noticed it. The door of your shared armoury - really, the small room in which you both kept your weapons, armor and other items for combat and missions was slightly agape. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. That door was always closed. He stalked over cautiously, nudged the door open - then he saw it. All the puzzle pieces fell into place immediately.
His ultramarine battle gear, polished. Shining.
His white fur collar - missing.
“Why, you…”, he muttered, no, snarled. For a moment the world was red and hot ire burned inside of him - then he gazed through the window, huffing.
He whipped around on his heels and stalked out of the house. Already, he channeled his chakra to let his sensor skills fan out in search of you.
You wanted to hide from him, an extremely skilled sensor?
Game on.
_________
Your neck and shoulders were comfortably warm. It was spring, so the temperatures were rising indeed, but not quite there yet - though it did make you wonder how Tobirama handled this in summer. Occasionally you’d tilt your head to the side to nuzzle into the warmth of the white fur that adorned your shoulders, inhaling the scent of your husband.
With a snicker, you thought about how he’d wake up to you - and his precious floof - missing.
Honestly, this was a godly prank, or so you’d like to think. Waltzing through Konoha, wearing what obvious was Tobirama’s trademark piece of attire was bound to turn a few select heads - and it did. You even happened to meet Madara - who had regarded you with a fine smirk. He understood immediately, of course - the fact Tobirama wouldn’t part willingly with this and was somewhere else, royally pissed off.
“Does he know yet?”, the Uchiha clan leader mused darkly, a glint to his obsidian eyes.
You blinked innocently, putting a slender finger to pursed lips. “Do you hear him yelling and ripping it off me?”
He merely gave a low laugh and waved goodbye, going on his merry way.
As you did yourself. You weren’t stupid, of course. Stealing Tobirama’s fur collar was one thing. Hiding with it for a prolonged amount of time was another - by now he’d be awake, have figured everything out and probably even be using shadow clones to look for you.
His sensor skills were an extremely unfair advantage in this game.
Which was another reason you kept to the broad public - the more chakra signatures were around you, the more difficult it’d be for him to discern yours. Really, it’d just buy you a little bit more time - and dignity. Tobirama wouldn’t make a scene to recover his most prized possession in front of the entire village.
You hoped, at least.
It was just in front of a flower shop when you spotted him - his silvery hair would always stand out, just like the three red facial markings he used paint on. He was down the road, way off; however his stare might as well have been a kunai flying in your direction for how enraged it was.
You gave a cheeky grin, waved at him and entered the shop without looking back to see his face become contorted by a furious scowl.
Inside the shop were a handful of customers and the keeper of course, who you approached politely. “Hello, might I take a look around? I’m looking for a little surprise for my husband and your display had me enraptured, really.” Your tone was honey-sweet, you almost felt guilty knowing what would follow in here.
The man blinked, blushing a little. “O-oh, sure, go ahead,” waving you towards his sortiment with a bright smile.
You made a mental note to buy some flowers from this poor fellow later.
____
Tobirama couldn’t believe his own eyes.
Not only had he located you amidst the bustling streets - it was a quite busy morning - but every single aspect of the situation fuelled his fury more. Obviously - obviously - you had been mingling in an effort to make tracking you down with his sensor skills more difficult (How pathetic - he’d know your chakra’s signature between a thousand, always), but you actually also had the gall to stare him in the eye once he found you, grin at him and, by all that is holy, waltz away.
With his fur collar on.
He wasn’t a conceited man nor did he care for appearances, but frankly a part of him quite liked the idea of you wearing it (for a short time, anyway) - your scent on it, the idea of it being warm by your body’s warmth -
But this was his fur collar! And he hadn’t given you permission to saunter around with it in public like some - some - look-alike? Furiously he stalked over to the shop you had just entered, paying no attention to what was being sold there exactly. People made way for him simply for how he walked - likely his expression helped with that bit too - but he didn’t care. This game was over, now.
Inside, his scarlet gaze locks with yours immediately and his eyes narrow to tiny slits. “Y/n,” he sternly calls as though his voice was a weapon - a threat he’d make good on.
The shop’s owner turned his head, mouth slightly agape when recognition settled into his expression.
You weren’t fazed the slightest, of course. That grin of yours was as cheeky as ever and had he been slightly more prepared - had this not been about his fur collar - maybe, maybe he’d have found it funny. A little bit.
But as it was, he didn't. Not the slightest. Nope.
“Tobirama!”, you waved, “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you before, dear, I’m glad you found me now.”
He was sure at this point his face became as red as three red streaks of paint that adorned it. The shop owner ducked behind his counter a little. “It wasn’t all that difficult, Y/n, with that outfit you’re brandishing right now, you know.” The tone of his voice was subzero, but quiet. He took a few measured steps towards you.
Your smile didn’t falter the slightest. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” You tilted your head slightly to rub your cheek over the fluffy white fur, closing your eyes to inhale the scent again.
Tobirama took a sharp breath and his eyes widened slightly as that motion alone did something else to him. His fists balled though. “Shall we, then? We got a lot more to do today.” He extended his hand for you to take, taking another measured step towards you. If you weren’t going to take his hand, he’d simply take your arm or make body contact somehow else to use his hiraishin seal and end this prank.
Unfortunately - of course - you were too smart for that. Your loving ministrations to the floof ceased immediately as an attentive eye caught his hand nearing you; your lips formed a wicked smile. “Sure - go ahead, Tobi. I’ll be right along, I promised Mito to stop by and - oh, I needed to buy something else, too.”
Tobirama nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed to tiny slits. Momentarily his jaws clenched so hard it hurt, but he raised his chin as he identified this for what this was. Defiance. And the proverbial gauntlet being thrown down again. “Then let’s go together, shall we?” He raised his hand to casually lay it on your shoulder as he stood by your side - as wife and husband would -
But you pranced to the side nimbly and towards the door before he could do so much as lay a finger on you or get within arm’s reach. “Wonderful! This will be fun. I’ll be back later, mister, your flowers are delightful!”, waving the shop owner goodbye, you already were out of the shop.
Tobirama’s hand dropped to his side, his hands balled into fists again. Darkly he stared after you. So this is how we’re going to do this. Not sparing the shop owner a second glance he was out before you could slip out of his sight again.
________
With no small amount of satisfaction you were sauntering down the main street of Konoha again, ignoring the ominous presence that was following you. The look on Tobirama’s face had been priceless. Unfortunately you had a problem now: he literally only needed to graze your skin now to whisk you away to your shared home.
Then the un-fun part of this prank would begin. You’d have to find a way to pacify him before that because right now, you knew he was royally pissed only.
Still. It was fun to watch, once in a while. And you really loved this lovely floof.
His low timbre reached your ears again, nearer than you expected. Already, you sped up your playful gait, throwing a glance over your shoulder. “Enjoying yourself?” He inquired darkly.
If looks could kill, you might drop dead now. There were honest shadows cast over his face from how enraged he was. But - and this was most important - he was far enough away still. You smiled cheekily again. “Quite a lot.”
His voice became chilly again. “You realise this is no match for my hiraishin?”
You giggled. “Yeah, I’d be in real trouble if you ever used it.” To accentuate your statement, you picked up your pace a little bit more. By now you were quite close to running.
Tobirama gave a low growl in response and answered by picking up his speed, too. The way the two of you walked must look comical by now. Not like you cared - and Tobirama seemed fixated on his goal now.
Truth be told, you needed a plan. Another shop would just strain his patience more - and that trick was old. Reaching a familiar destination - like Hashirama’s house - was dangerous. Tobirama might unleash his fury there or simply grab you and really haul you away. Briefly you considered seeking out Madara - but the fun would stop right there, or the probability of an actual incident was too high.
That left you with one option.
Within the blink of an eye, you bolted into a sidealley.
_______
Tobirama skidded to a halt for just a moment as you ran - right down into the narrow alley to your right. Snarling, he began the pursuit - gloves off now. If you actually thought you could outpace the fastest shinobi alive, you had another thing coming.
Though you weren’t exactly holding back either - nor were you a sluggish person. Your footwork had always been nimble and in the small streets it was possible to zigzag past narrow corners, under clothes lines and down even more narrow alleys that barely deserved the name.
He had to be careful. This was not some panicked move, this had been a calculated decision of yours. Quite possibly you had more planned. His best option remained to stay as close as he could - no, get close enough to touch you and teleport home.
His increasing fury didn’t help maintain focus, though. All he did see was his white fur collar trail in front of him and away, alongside the endlessly amused laughter of his wife.
Were he not so frustrated, he might find the challenge entertaining. Enjoyable. Perhaps he did, right now.
Nonsense, this was ridiculous! He had better things to do than running after you like some schoolboy!
Just as you turned around yet another corner he lunged forward for you to narrowly miss his grabbing hand - so narrow he could still feel the air draft of your movement as you had to dance to the side in order to avoid capture.
“Ahaha!”, you giggled, “It seems you got to be faster, dear husband!” - and with a literal twirl you were on your merry way again.
That did it.
_______
After your very narrow escape, you had turned yet another corner - quite frankly you were surprised Tobirama hadn’t shouted anything back. There are no people in these alleys; and by now you expected him to be frothing by the mouth or something. Instead he actually lost a few meters on you - hah.
Then you frowned.
That was quaint, actually. Had he stopped for some reason? You spurred yourself to greater speeds but nonetheless you couldn’t deny the tiny shiver down your spine. Your husband was an extremely intelligent man and the fact he had hatched some plan that had required him to stand still even for just a second - that didn’t sit well with you.
You had to change your tactic, again.
But quite frankly you were running out of options at this point. A disguise was out of question due to his sensor capabilities - back on the main road, maybe?
You took another quick turn-
Only to be slammed into the ground by a tall, silver-haired man. With a yelp, you rolled forward to ease the incoming fall as you lost all balance due to your speed, but your assailant was quick as well - before you could gain your footing again, he used the weight of his body to tackle you. You managed to roll on your back to identify the attacker as - who else could it be - Tobirama.
“How?!”, you breathed, incredulously, but already, you raised your legs to kick out viciously to shake him off; though he was faster.
With a low huff he seized your wrists simply and dragged you up with him - damn it all. This was as good as over now. After a short scuffle he had wrestled your arms behind your back and turned you around to face down the alley, where the answer was coming from.
Another Tobirama was striding down towards you. He clapped his hands, once twice, lazily. The smirk in his voice was unmistakable. “Well done. Shall we go home, dear?”
You struggled still against the shadow clone that held your arms wrenched behind your back, scrunching your nose and huffing. “That was low, Tobi. I thought we were having a fair chase here,” you moped.
He finally stood in before you, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyebrows rose lazily. “I was chasing you. Apologies for not reading the rules, you didn’t leave any behind.” He sounded entirely unimpressed now, but there was a certain glint in his scarlet gaze as he stared his quarry - you - down. You were unsure if it was fury or plain annoyance.
Your lips formed a pout. “At least make your clone disappear now. You won.”
He didn’t move an inch. In fact, his clone reinforced his grip, earning him indignant “Hey!” from you. Tobirama only blinked, gaze never leaving you. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re going to bolt the moment I release you.”
You click your tongue in feigned hurt. “Ouch? Please, have some faith, husband. I lost a fair chase, I’m a good sport.”
“You just called it unfair, my dear.” He cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
You just stared at him for another moment after he had called your rather obvious bluff. Finally, you bit your lower lip and attempted a little bit of a smirk again. “Come on, Tobi. You did enjoy yourself a little.” He still didn’t move an inch. His intense gaze simply kept mustering you, only narrowing ever so slightly. “We’re going home now.”
Instantly reality twisted and a familiar lurch later you were in your bedroom, Tobirama right in front of you. The clone was gone - he must’ve released it the moment it had teleported you. In a swift motion he backed you up closer to the nearest wall, closer and closer - until you felt your back make contact with the wall. Defiantly, you crossed your arms in front of your chest.
“Well, go ahead then. Take the floof back.” At the very least, you were surprised he hadn’t been shouting or something. Remembering his face when he initially had spotted you, you’d been rather sure you were in for something.
Right now? Right now the scarlet gaze of his was near liquid, ablaze but narrow nonetheless. His jaw was working and slowly, he put a hand to the wall next to your head. “Hm,” he gave a low hum that rolled right off his tongue.
You raised an eyebrow. Was he going to prank you now? “If you’re waiting for me to give it back, no can do. I’m rather attached to this. Literally.” You smirked again, confidently, turning your head slightly to nuzzle the soft fur again for a moment.
From the corner of your eye you saw his throat move as he swallowed heavily, his eyes widening slightly. He was staring you down like a hawk now. Silence stretched for a few moments before - “Maybe I quite enjoy the sights right now, actually.” His baritone voice had taken on a sultry tone now and his free hand moved up to first ruffle through his fur, then trail up your neck and cup your cheek tenderly.
Your eyebrows climbed up. So that was what that look had been about. You leaned into his touch a little and couldn’t help but smile gently, looking up at him. Right then you wanted to lose yourself in that intense gaze of his. “Then ... I’ll wear it a bit longer?” you murmured headily, quietly.
He took another small step closer until his body almost touched yours, his fresh breath hitting your face as he seemed to ponder the notion for a moment. The hand next to your face slipped down to linger between the soft fur and your neck alike, his thumb stroking your skin gently. For a moment all he did was caressing you, pinning you with gaze; no marvelling you.
“A tiny bit…”, he finally murmured, then a fine smirk formed - and his voice turned stern. “But you’re not going to leave this house. With my collar on. Ever again.”
You rolled your eyes.
This was still Tobirama, after all.
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For the bobadin prompts; maybe something angsty with a little fluff?
I feel like a lot of fics don’t do enough exploration into the ‘caring Boba’ side - the one that decided ‘I’m just gonna help this random stranger save their child because why not?’ - and it always warms my heart when I find a fic that does.
Oh I feel the same way, anon! Don’t get me wrong, I love rough!Boba fics but I also truly believe that the man has a deep, caring side too.
Here’s some soft!Boba helping Din during an anxiety attack, shortly after losing Grogu on Tython.
Boba Fett decided that he needed more information.
The Slave I was on autopilot, headed to Nevarro at the request of the silver Mandalorian. Fennec was off somewhere in the ship, probably polishing her weapons, and Boba decided to go track down Mando. They’d barely exchanged more than a few sentences, but here he was, piloting his ship at the direction of some Mandalorian he’d just met all because he’d willingly given Boba his armor back.
Bounty hunters lived in a world of exchanges: everything came with a price and Boba always paid his debts. The feeling of pure relief he felt at putting his father’s armor on again was so strong that the least he could do was help this fellow bounty hunter out.
He shook his head as he quietly made his way through the passageways of his ship. No, it was more than that. If he was being honest with himself, he felt some deep, innate need to help the silver Mando due to his unique situation. He was a father and his child had been stolen. Instinct took over when Boba realized the situation, and he’d immediately offered his services to help the guy out because the mere thought of walking away knowing that he did nothing would have driven him mad with guilt. How could he purposely leave a child in the same situation that he himself had been left in? Boba Fett was not a man to leave a child fatherless when there was something he could do to help the situation. Apparently that meant he’d offer his ship and his services without thinking twice, all because the thought of separating a father and son made his stomach churn with unaddressed feelings.
And now here he was, serving as a taxi service and a hired hand to a Mandalorian he didn’t really know or trust yet. So he needed more information. Surely Mando would be able to explain the whole situation, and then Boba could feel better about what he was doing instead of just feeling like a bit of a sucker.
Boba climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold and immediately picked up on the sound of heavy, modulated breathing. He quietly moved toward the sound and peered among the crates to see Mando doubled over, his hand gripping at the beskar chest plate as he tried to control his rapid breaths.
What was going on? Was Mando injured? He hadn’t seen any blood as they’d boarded the ship. Boba quickly ran through every single possibility that might have brought on this clear anguish that Mando was experiencing, and he quickly came to the obvious conclusion: the man was having a panic attack.
Slowly, Boba approached the hyperventilating man and cautiously called out so that he wouldn’t frighten him,
“Mando? It’s Fett. Are you alright?”
It didn’t work and the man jumped anyway. He quickly whipped around and stared at Boba through his visor, one hand immediately going to the blaster on his hip. But the movement seemed to be too much for him and he wavered, gripping the edge of the crate to hold himself up. Boba quickly stepped forward and grabbed Mando’s shoulder, squeezing it in his strong grip as he helped the man sit down on the edge of the box. The gesture was meant to ground the other man, and he hoped he could convey a sense of calmness through the touch rather than frighten the man even more. A visible shudder rippled along Mando’s arms, down his chest, and through his entire body. After a few seconds, he was finally capable of taking a full breath.
“That’s right. Try to take deep breaths, my friend. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Boba coaxed, hoping his presence was helping Mando and not adding to his stress.
He knew what it was like to feel small and desperately alone. Being a bounty hunter was a solo profession- there was no room for long-term relationships or building bonds with others. After all his years traversing the galaxy alone, Boba was self-aware enough to know that he didn’t react to kindness and touch in the same way that most people did. He assumed Mando was the same way. The armor they both wore put out a menacing image to others, but it didn’t change the feelings of the person inside it. They were both human, and sometimes humans needed to feel like they weren’t alone in the world.
“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” Boba continued, speaking softly as he tried to think of what he’d like to hear if he was in this situation. He’d learned the steps necessary to regain control of his mind and body under the worst of situations and he hoped his methods would work on Mando too. “You’re safe. Take all the time you need.”
Still sitting down, Mando’s hand landed on top of Boba’s that was settled on his shoulder. He kept his head tucked down toward his chest, still concentrating on his breathing, but his hand squeezed Boba’s in recognition and gratitude. They stayed in the same position for what seemed like an eternity before Mando finally drew his head up and turned to look at Boba through his helmet.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so small and tight that Boba could practically hear the tears in his eyes, even if he couldn’t see them.
Mando’s other hand found its place on Boba’s forearm. While holding on tightly, the younger man emanated the gratefulness he felt at Boba’s touch. Honestly, Boba was surprised that it seemed to work so well. He wasn’t exactly known for his emotional intuition, but he was pleased he was capable of calming and resetting Mando. It confirmed his suspicion that they were more alike than he originally thought.
“How are you feeling? Are you alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even but a hint of worry floated beneath it.
Mando swallowed hard before answering, “I am now. Whatever you did or are doing... it’s helping.”
He took another deep breath, still trying to regain complete control. Boba slowly ran his hand down from Mando’s shoulder toward his lower arm, preparing to pull away, but as Mando felt him withdraw he rushed to grab his hand back, ensuring they maintained contact. Boba was surprised- expecting that Mando would want the physical contact to end as soon as possible. But maybe the man was finally being honest with himself and his own needs. It’d certainly taken Boba a long time to do the same thing, and he knew this probably wasn’t easy for Mando. If the man was asking for comfort via touch, Boba was not about to deny him.
Mando grabbed onto his retreating hand, while the other hand gripped Boba’s forearm even tighter. Boba merely nodded and squeezed back, hoping to reassure the fragile man.
“Please… don’t leave yet,” Mando said quietly. His voice was almost pleading, surprising Boba once again. He was pleased that Mando seemed to recognize that he would not judge, ridicule or shame him for his current weakened state. There was a new feeling in the pit of his stomach too- a gratifying, contented sensation that seemed to bloom when Mando admitted he needed him.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, slowly reaching up to rub the back of the other man’s neck, “I’ll stay.”
Mando hummed and let his head fall forward again, and Boba imagined his eyes falling shut in relief. Boba massaged Mando’s neck, trying to stay focused on comforting the younger man while ignoring the new feelings growing in his own chest. He realized he wanted to take care of him. He’d never felt such an immediate desire to protect someone before. Now was certainly not the time to dwell too deeply on that, but later Boba would reflect on the satisfaction he felt at being needed.
He watched Mando’s hands clench and unclench, and finally the man tried to speak again, “I’m not usually… I never…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Boba replied, “Especially not now. I know you’re hurting.”
Mando nodded, but he glanced up at the ceiling of the ship and spoke anyway, “I had one job. One mission: to protect him. And I failed.”
His body began to shiver again, and Boba moved to sit beside him, wrapping one strong arm around the other man’s shoulders as he continued. “I failed him, and now he could be hurt or… or worse…”
“You haven’t failed him,” Boba said sternly, “A terrible accident occurred today, but you haven’t failed him and you won’t fail him.”
“But the Moff-”
“Do you want to get him back?” Boba asked, knowing the answer but wanting Mando to say it outloud.
“More than anything,” Mando replied without hesitation.
“Then we will. We will find him and we will get him back to you.”
Hearing the conviction in his voice must have helped, because Mando finally slumped against him, practically collapsing into Boba’s side. It was more physical contact than Boba had received in months, and he was surprised at how normal it felt-- as if it were the most natural thing in the world for this random Mandalorian to slot into his side like a puzzle piece.
“Today, you’ve done enough,” Boba told him, hoping to keep the tension from creeping back into the other man, “There’s nothing else we can do until we reach Nevarro.”
Mando was silent, so Boba continued, “Say it with me. You’ve done enough.”
“I’ve done enough.”
Boba let out a pleased hum when Mando obeyed him. He even managed to sound sure of himself, which was definitely a step in the right direction. Boba reached down and patted the man’s knee with the hand that wasn’t still wrapped around his shoulders. He heard Mando sigh, just the softest of sounds, and Boba wished he knew what the man looked like so that he could properly imagine the way his lips parted at the sound.
“I don’t know how to repay you. For taking me to Nevarro and for… this.” Mando said, sounding a bit more like his normal self.
“You do not need to repay me,” Boba told him, meaning every word. For once in his long life, he truly didn’t want anything in return. All he wanted was to make this strange yet familiar Mandolorian happy again. Maybe it was because he saw himself reflected in the younger man or maybe it was something more, but all that mattered was that Boba Fett was now dedicated to helping him find the foundling.
”I will stay as long as you need me.”
#bobadin#I love being a Din multi shipper#boba x din#the mandalorian#boba fett#din djarin#tw: anxiety attack#my fanfic#ask#fanfiction tag#din djarin x boba fett
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Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3
a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(
for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!
GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!
anon:
may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺
CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o
OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS
to be honest, it was,,, unexpected
you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike
going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead
you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner
your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss
when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to
however
he tossed it to no one
instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball
it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor,
it was too late
the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed
your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym
then it finally hit you
‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest
‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team
the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck
‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’
you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding
‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’
he choked out
‘OIKAWA!’
the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game
the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in
iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him
you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist
‘it’s not a dream, right?’
he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face
‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’
you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy
for years theyve tried
and now, they succeeded
well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?
hmm,,, maybe the honor of going
but the other players??
oh god
it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager
it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before
uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess
oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his
‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’
seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals
they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys
hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors
‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’
oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly
‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’
iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand
but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents
as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you
again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them
they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh
however, oikawa seemed to know them
‘ah’
he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look
‘ara? fresh blood?’
you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him
‘excuse us’
he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly
‘oh sangwoo?’
KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY
watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like
and he raised an eyebrow in interest
‘hm? you called?’
another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain
but he didnt let off yet
as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear
‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’
ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS
kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself
‘she has name, fcker’
atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up
‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’
YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS
osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa
‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’
oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face
‘eh? best setter?’
you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again
the locker room was actually the same back home
but kindaichi was sobbing again
‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’
you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner
oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain
‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’
oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips
‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’
mattsun shrugged
‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’
iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes
‘he reeked nasty! gross!’
makki agreed
‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’
they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word
but,,,,
what can you expect from star-struck players?
maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream
‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’
they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles
thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you
‘oh? baby girl?’
you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave
‘chibi? hey?’
he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side
atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him
the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you
‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’
he,,, apologized?
but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’
'miya-san, hello’
you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped
he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?
usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next
‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’
if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu
you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him
‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’
you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary
were you,,, threatening him?
atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words
then he laughed
a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute
‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’
wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!
he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell
you just stood there 🧍♀️
‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’
‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’
he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised
‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’
‘wait’
he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest
‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’
you rolled your eyes
‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’
you tilted your head with a crooked smile
were you,,, playing hard to get?!
atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased
‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’
he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket
‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’
even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them
oh my god hes in love with you
he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again
‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’
ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger
you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward
‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’
your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers
‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’
you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you
‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’
‘fate?’
this time, you chuckled, head leaning down
and as you looked back up, your heart stopped
by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes
oh dear
your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile
they,, were now happy
‘fate, you say’
you mumbled distractedly
‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’
atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look
‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’
you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope
atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged
‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’
he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed
‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’
you wondered out loud
atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you
‘chibi-chan?’
he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile
‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’
you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling
‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’
he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips
‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’
a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this
a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3
a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu!! imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu!! headcanons#aoba johsai#aoba johsai x reader#aoba josai x reader#aoba josai#seijoh#aoba johsai imagines#aoba josai imagines#seijoh imagines#seijoh manager#haikyuu manager#haikyuu!! manager#aoba johsai manager#aoba josai manager#seijoh x reader#aoba johsai headcanons#aoba josai headcanons#seijoh headcanons#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! fluff#aoba johsai fluff#aoba josai fluff#seijoh fluff
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Nervous
the one where Y/N might be insane but Harry is definitely a shy nervous idiot. (~7k)
thank you @ anon for requesting this! I tried to do it justice, but I’ve honestly never written Harry this way so 😬hopefully it’s decent. Apart from this being probably the only request i’ve ever done, this is also my first piece of one-off writing i’ve posted in a long time, so I do really hope yall enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you to @fromyourstrulyh @aileenacoustic & @smokeinherperfume for beta reading and just generally being incredible ❤️As always, your feedback, thoughts or just a reblog are super appreciated!!
The busy conversation could not overpower the way the sun felt on Y/N’s skin. Sometimes it burned a little too hot, but other times it felt just right and she found herself basking in it, ignoring all her friends a few times too many. She knew if they were any further inland from the beach, the hot L.A. sun would be completely unbearable, but the breeze that swooshed through the courtyard every so often was enough to make the weather practically perfect.
She no longer regretted going for one of her summer dresses that had straps and a shorter hemline. Her other options had been one with sleeves or a midi skirt, but either of those would have left her boiling, even if she only had her bathing suit on underneath. The last thing she needed when seeing all her friends again was to be sweating buckets.
Especially in front of Harry.
She couldn’t remember when he’d first joined their ever-growing group, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. He was nice to look at, which was just about all she ever did because he wasn't a man of many words. All of their conversations burnt out within a couple minutes. She never had any idea what to say to him because frankly, he intimidated her. All of her friends had various connections to Hollywood, but he was most definitely the most famous person she knew. So knowing what to even say to Harry was a whole other obstacle than just simply being acquainted with him.
But she did like to look at him whenever she could get away with it. Particularly when he was chatting with someone else and she obsessed over the way his dimples went in and out of his cheeks every time he smiled. If she wasn’t staring at his face and admiring the freckles or how green his eyes were in the sun, she shamelessly watched his hands. Whether it was while he articulated them in conversation, or while he picked up his sandwich to take another bite, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them.
She wanted nothing more than for him to just have a normal fucking conversation with her like he did with everyone else.
“Hey.” Mel nudged her elbow into Y/N’s side, forcing her eyes away from Harry for the first time in the past three minutes. “Do you want to share a slice of chocolate cake?”
And for the first time since they’d sat down, something other than Harry piqued her interest. With enough sparkle in her eyes to blind someone, Y/N nodded eagerly. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”
Mel shrugged and looked over the dessert menu again to pick out the right slice of chocolate cake between a plain one, one filled with fudge in the middle, and one packed with triple chocolate--whatever that meant.
Trev, who sat beside Harry and right across from Y/N, folded his arms and leaned onto the table, “So Mel, how’s it going with that guy, uh… Alan?”
Mel rolled her eyes but kept them glued to her options of chocolate cakes, “It’s Adam.”
“Does it matter?”
Y/N bit back a smile and sat against her seat, waiting for the typical show between Trev and Mel where he let his jealousy spew out like boiling hot lava and made fun of whatever dude she was seeing all because he was too up his own ass to just ask her out. It was entertaining for the whole table, though, and especially for Y/N.
It was then, in the heat of Mel’s insults about Trev’s own miserable love life, that Y/N and Harry shared a glance, and only a glance because it was so quick, she thought she was imagining things. Just the familiar green of his irises burned into her eyelids was enough to know it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. She’d been snickering at the two in front of her when she blinked over at him, possibly because he had already been looking at her. As soon as she did, however, within less than a second he’d looked away. She would take it, and the way it made her entire insides feel like they were being electrocuted, and run with it though. He’d looked at her for the first time all afternoon and she just might gain the courage to try and talk to him again. If he would let her of course.
She thought about their last conversation and how it seemed like centuries ago, but also may have been the reason he hadn’t said a word to her today yet. A smaller portion of their group had gone to LACMA on an off day so it wasn’t as busy. She tried to talk to him about the Diego Rivera painting he’d been standing in front of which he had humorously mistaken for Frida Kahlo. Looking back on it though, she cringed at the way she’d laughed at his mistake because he probably didn’t find it all that funny. He had still laughed right along with her, as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment and he tried to find a quick escape to avoid interacting with her again on their museum trip--which he had done, successfully.
He knew Diego Rivera from Frida Kahlo, though, he wasn’t stupid, but whenever she was around and he had to communicate with her, he turned into a big dumb pile of mush who wouldn’t be able to tell his left foot from his right. He had never been so fucking nervous around someone in his entire life, and so naturally, he no clue what to make of her.
The bickering between Mel and Trev died down when their waitress returned to take dessert orders as a busboy collected dirty dishes. Although dessert was Y/N’s favorite part of every meal, she found herself pouting at the thought of their afternoon passing by a lot quicker than she expected it to.
The topic of discussion shifted once the sweets all arrived and suddenly they were all going on about Tiger King conspiracies that Y/N knew jack shit about, but still listened intently as if she did. She asked a dumb question every once in a while, which made everyone at the table groan in frustration. Eventually, though, they got onto more topics she didn’t understand the references to so she gave up.
Instead, she found herself eyeing Harry’s sampler of various cookies, particularly his painted fingers as he broke off pieces and popped them in his mouth. He had had black nail polish on at some point, but most of it had chipped off by now. The rings he usually wore to excess had dwindled down to just one on his middle finger. She missed them, even though she was sure his poor hands were in desperate need of a break from all the jewelry. His tattoos were on full display now, soaking up all the sun they could after being under long sleeve sweaters all winter. The black ink stood out against his slightly tanned skin, and especially against the red, floral print flowy button up he wore. She felt like it’d been ages since she saw him in something so casual, but they were all headed to the beach soon after all.
“Do you want some?” When she heard his voice, her eyes shot up to his face, realizing she’d been caught. Realizing he was looking at her and speaking to her because she’d been staring at his fucking hands not the cookies.
Since she couldn’t let him know about that, she nodded, “Uh sure.”
She felt even worse about taking a half of a chocolate chip cookie from him when he reached across the table and his poor, beautiful hand collided with her half-full cocktail glass that instantly dumped all over the table. It caught everyone’s attention when the glass broke and quickly Y/N and Trev grabbed napkins to soak up the liquid before it reached their laps while Val saved their plates.
Harry hid his face in his hands after placing the half of a cookie down on his plate again, utterly embarrassed by himself. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled between his fingers after dragging his hands down his face dramatically to see the mess he’d made.
“Literally the clumsiest fucker I know, you know that?” Trev said while sopping up the rest of her drink and discarding the used napkins on an empty plate. Val called over their waitress once she was close enough to help deal with the broken glass.
“Can I buy you another one?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him again and it was definitely not from the sun. He looked embarrassed and apologetic and she was positive he felt stupid because she knew she would in his place, but it made her sad that he thought any of that when it was just a silly mistake.
Harry definitely would not have minded sinking into oblivion right there and then.
“No it’s alright, wasn’t that good of a drink anyways.” She shrugged, easing his nerves just a tad, but he still felt horrible.
“I’ll pay for that one then.” He concluded, not giving her a chance to shoot him down this time, however. And when the checks came long after Harry’s incident that gave him plenty of time to recover, she didn’t have much say in it either when he snatched up her check before the waitress could even hand it to her.
Y/N could easily pay for herself, but if Harry insisted she wasn’t going to argue. It was his way of feeling better about the situation and she’d leave it be, even if it did bug her that he said he’d pay for her drink, not her entire bill. She kept her mouth shut, however, and just gave him a mean look so at least he knew she wasn’t happy about it, even if she had no intentions to stop him.
She escaped to the restroom while everyone wrapped up, knowing she’d have to go the second she got near the ocean later and she did not want to use the disgusting public bathrooms at the beach. They were always full of sand, salty water, and smelled ten times fishier than normal.
Her confidence was at an all time high when she looked in the mirror, wondering if it had been the sun or Harry to do it to her, but either way it really didn’t matter. She felt like she was on a cloud and like nothing could touch her or bring her back down.
Except, of course, when she walked back out to reality and realized everyone had already made their ways to the Malibu coastline. Sighing, she pulled her phone from her little crossbody bag and walked towards the main entrance. Before she got too far into her Uber app, she glanced up at a familiar shade of bright red floral print standing near the doors and instantly floated back up to the clouds.
“Did everyone leave?” She asked once she walked up to Harry. He held onto a cardboard box of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other. His sunglasses, that were previously perched on the neck of his shirt, had made their way to the top of his head, pushing his hair back from his face.
He nodded. “I, um… I didn’t know if you had a ride, or...?” He stumbled and she wasn’t sure why, but it was cute nonetheless, especially since she initially had the impression that Harry would be a little more self-assured than he was turning out to be. That was what she liked best about him though, that he tripped over his words and confused artists and spilled drinks.
She held up her phone in her hands and smiled, “I’m getting an Uber.”
He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t notice when she resumed picking out the cheapest option on the app to take her down PCH as she maneuvered around him and stepped back out into the warm summer afternoon.
He followed quickly, nearly tripping over himself and then cleared his throat, “Well, um, I’ve got a car.”
She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder while she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of car?”
He had no clue why she’d asked him that, but given the little smirk on her lips, he had an inkling that if he didn’t have the right kind of car, she’d prefer to stick with her Uber options. What he was positive about, however, was that he’d never liked her more than he did right there in the parking lot as she planned on roasting his choice of transportation.
“Uhm...” He glanced around the lot until he found his car and then pointed it out, “that one.”
Her eyes fell to a bright yellow, convertible 1972 Ferrari Dino and she tried her best to not let him see the way her jaw practically hit the asphalt beneath their flip flops. Instead, she swallowed, stood up straight, faced him, and put her phone away.
“That will do.”
The surface streets were quiet, even though she’d forced him to put the top down while they drove. They were boring, too. She wanted to throw her hands up and feel the air between her fingers and flowing through her hair. Instead, they were stuck at every single red light imaginable on the short trip it took to get to the highway.
“How long have you had this car?” She asked once they’d stopped again, making herself at home in his passenger seat as she rested her elbow up on the door where the window would normally be if she hadn’t rolled it down the second he started the engine.
“Mm,” He thought, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger while his other hand clung tightly to the top of the steering wheel, enough so that she could see the whites of his knuckles. Was he nervous? Did he not like to drive with the top down? Or did he just not like to drive with her constantly staring at him?
“Couple years probably,” he answered finally while adjusting the radio to turn some music on and she took that as her cue to leave him alone. Maybe he was nervous because he liked to focus on the road while driving and not on her silly questions.
They got up to about twenty-miles-an-hour now while he flipped through stations, his eyes bouncing between the console and the road. He tuned the radio until she wrapped her hand around his forearm.
“Sorry, I just,” she let go of him after he gave her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read. He could have been mad at her for touching him for all she knew. “I really like this song.”
He moved both hands to the steering wheel as he sat back into his seat. He’d never heard the song before, but if she liked it then he’d leave it on. They drove for a bit longer until he heard her softly singing along and glanced over at her. He’d only meant to look for less than a second, but when she met his gaze, he got a little too distracted.
Her eyes darted out the windshield and her sudden, “Harry!” caused him to slam on the breaks, luckily just seconds before he managed to rear-end a Honda Civic. He was positive his hunk of metal would have done quite some damage.
“Shit,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair to shift it back into place as his heart raced a million miles.
Then, of course, it was racing for other reasons when he heard her giggling from beside him and once he was done freaking out, he joined in. He was such a fucking idiot but it apparently had made her laugh, so… silver lining?
Once they were on the highway, he no longer felt as tense. The wind from the ocean beside them blew his hair in every direction as he got up to the speed of traffic and she watched his hands as they shifted gears. She let her eyes, and her mind, wander while staring at his tattooless arm and the way the muscles flexed under his skin. It gave her that dangerous self-confidence all over again.
He heard her seatbelt click and immediately shot his eyes over to see what the actual fuck she was doing taking it off while he was going over sixty miles an hour. An all new reason to be anxious filled his entire nervous system as he watched her, through various quick glances, standing up in his passenger seat with no care in the world about flying out. As if he hadn’t already nearly caused an accident, here she was trusting him enough not to do it again.
Her skirt flew up in the breeze but she didn’t really care too much about that either, and neither did Harry. When she finally managed to peel her hands off the windshield, she threw them up and shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing nothing but a huge cheesy grin onto Harry’s face even though he wanted to pull over and kick her out for doing what she was doing and nearly giving him an aneurism.
She sat back down within seconds though, and his blood pressure settled at a more normal pace when she had her seatbelt secured around herself again.
“Wouldn’t have offered you a ride had I know you were going to do that!” He shouted over the sound of the wind.
“I’m in a Ferrari on PCH, you should have expected it!”
He shook his head at her as he glanced over his shoulder to switch lanes and make his off-ramp. She was fucking nuts. And he was a fucking idiot.
They sat in the parking lot together for a moment, staring out at the ocean, after he put the top up, closed the windows, and cut the engine. She was still coming down off of whatever high possessed her to stand up mid-freeway and he was trying not to act like a complete fool being alone with her again where it was quiet and they weren’t moving anymore.
“How come we never talk much?” She asked him before either of them could even think about getting out of the car and joining their friends down on the sand.
He stared straight ahead at the waves for a moment as he thought about why they weren’t as close as he wished they were and that it might be his fault. He just never knew what to say to her to not completely embarrass himself. Within the past hour, it was clear he still hadn’t figured it out.
He sighed, “Probably because you stand up in cars and make me nervous.” He didn’t realize, however, how his words would be twisted until she did so.
“Oh, so we don’t talk because I make you nervous?” She teased with a smirk but she clearly had no idea how right she was about that. Or maybe she did have some idea about it.
Either way, he tensed up realizing he had, yet again, said some dumb shit and went and embarrassed himself again.
“I’m kidding,” she assured when he remained quiet, “I just think we should talk more.” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress and it most definitely did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Then maybe one day you’ll let me drive your Ferrari and you can stand up.”
The breeze dropped several degrees as they walked through the sand to their friends, who were already set up with a few chairs and an ice chest full of wine coolers. It was a nice relief from the burning afternoon sun, but Y/N still regretted not packing a sweater.
As they walked together, someone made a whistling sound at them as if suggesting something had happened with her and Harry between the time it took them to get from the restaurant to the beach. It made him uneasy when everyone looked at them like they were amidst a walk of shame, and even more so when he glanced down at her to his side to see she was also slightly uncomfortable.
“What took you two so long?” Trev asked the second she and Harry reached their little set up. Everyone was already either taking their clothes off to run into the ocean, or securing their spots in the warm sand, nursing a bottle or two of alcohol.
Y/N squared her shoulders, “Harry almost caused an accident.”
His head whipped towards her so fast, he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck. It was one thing for her to know about his dumbassery, but everyone else didn’t have to be in on it too.
A couple of their friends giggled, making Harry scratch at the back of his neck nervously, shaking out his curls and hoping they didn’t all think he was the biggest imbecile alive for not knowing how to drive a car like that. Especially since he did know how to drive, his brain just didn't function the way it was supposed to when Y/N was around.
“Or maybe,” Trev leaned in suggestively glancing between the both of them before settling his eyes on Y/N, “Harry finally won you over with his Ferrari.”
She scrunched her face, trying to figure out what the fuck Trev meant by finally? Harry never tried winning her over at any point in the past. Hell, before today she had been afraid that he hated her, wondering tirelessly what she did to get on Harry Styles’ bad side.
When she glanced at Harry, she was relieved to find that he seemed just about as confused as she was. So it was just Trev being a slimy asshole as per usual.
She rolled her eyes and shoved Trev’s shoulder as she walked past him, eliciting an overly dramatic response as he held his shoulder like a ginormous baby and called her a bitch under his breath.
Both Harry and Trev watched as she lifted her dress over her head, tossed it and her purse into a chair full of other people’s clothes, and flashed Trev her middle finger while she glanced over her shoulder at him. Before she ran off to the water, however, her eyes found Harry just in time to see the way his eyes flickered back up to her face. She smiled knowingly at him just before taking off, hoping his gaze would find its way to her backside again as she did so.
And frankly, her bathing suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination. It was all held together with strings that could come undone with just a single tug from Harry’s hands. Her bottoms were definitely cheeky and her top… Harry should not be looking.
But he was, he constantly found his eyes gravitating towards her as he sat beside Trev on land while she played in the water with the others. He also found his fists clenching whenever one of the other guys in their group got a little too close. He should also not be jealous.
“You know,” Trev began, sitting back against his seat and resting his wine cooler on his knee, “we all know you’re infatuated with her…” Harry turned to look at Trev like he was insane, “except for her of course. Probably because you act like an idiot around her and she thinks there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
Harry really couldn’t disagree. He did act like he only had a handful of brain cells sometimes, but in his defense, he didn’t do it on purpose. He had no clue why he couldn’t operate properly whenever she was around. No one had ever done that to him, not a single person he ever found remotely attractive turned him into a helpless ball of nerves the way she did.
Sighing, Harry stared out at the horizon through his tinted sunglasses and mumbled grumpily. “Maybe a little bit.”
“Knew you were too good to be true,” Trev teased, assuming Harry was referring to there being something seriously wrong with him rather than being maybe a little bit infatuated with her.
Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile on his lips, “You’re a cunt.”
“Listen man,” Trev sat forward again, taking a swig of his drink, “She’s fucking insane sometimes, but if you like her…” He shrugged.
“How insane is she, exactly?” Harry asked, although he already had an inkling given her earlier actions in his car.
Trev snorted out a laugh, “Not like that. She’s just like… I don’t know. Does crazy shit. She was the first one to jump off this huge ass cliff when we went diving a few summers ago.” Trev reminisced fondly before laughing again when he recalled something else Y/N had done. “She got drunk off her ass at New Years and did a handstand in the middle of Gasolina.”
Although Harry didn’t know what Gasolina was, he still imagined how fucking hilarious that party must’ve been. She was the good kind of crazy, he assumed, not the kind that might chop off his fingers in his sleep.
“Besides, all she does is work and hang out with her dog.” Trev added, leaving Harry to wonder profusely about what kind of dog she had. He considered a dachshund at first, but maybe a chihuahua was more her speed.
“Anyways,” Trev sighed, settling into his seat again, “I just think you should stop acting like a twelve-year old and ask her out if you like her.”
Harry’s brows furrowed again, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”
He watched as Trev’s eyes landed right on Mel, who had her arms around Y/N’s shoulders as they descended further into the ocean, and he sighed even deeper this time. “That’s way more complicated than the two of you.”
He never would have offered her a ride, no matter how much he liked her, when she’d first came up from the water and threw her dress back on. She was a wet, hot mess for a long while until they all packed up after they watched the sun set and it started getting dark. There was no way he was leaving her there to wait for an Uber by herself, however, once they’d gotten everything packed up into the back of Trev’s Jeep.
Not that she was pulling her phone out to scroll through the app or asking anyone else for a ride.
So, she wound up in his passenger seat again, staring at the sky as it mixed through various shades of peaches and purples until it turned a dark blue color and the stars started coming out as he drove. They listened to some oldies station while heading north on PCH and she never stopped looking at how beautiful the world was around her, especially the part of the world that sat right next to her as he drove silently with his sunglasses on top of his head again. He was cute when he focused, she thought.
When he reached her driveway, she really didn’t want him to leave yet. She’d even considered taking him the long way to her house and hoping he wouldn’t notice just to spend more time with him. She stared up at the stars still while they sat idly in her front yard until she looked over at Harry with a smile and he met her eyes curiously.
“Do you wanna meet my dog?”
She shivered as she closed the door behind Harry, locking it before returning her attention back to him. Seeing him planted into the familiar backdrop of her house felt weird, but it also swelled her stomach with a million butterflies.
“I’m gonna change real quick. The living room’s through there,” she pointed and he followed, “you can make yourself at home.”
While she disappeared up the stairs, he wandered hesitantly, removing his shoes before he walked onto the carpet in her living room. He sat down in the corner of her loveseat, taking in all the surroundings. Her house was nice and he thought about what she did for a living, trying to remember if it had ever come up in conversations before. He didn’t get too far lost in his thoughts and his wandering eyes when there was a sudden bang on the back door behind him followed quickly by loud and incessant barking.
When he looked out the windows that faced her backyard he realized she did not, in fact, have a dachshund or a chihuahua. She had a fucking pitbull.
Possibly even more fitting, and slightly less scarier than the chihuahua.
“Sorry,” she ran in the living room just then, in a pair of lounge shorts and a loose-fitting long sleeve, and went straight to the back door, “I promise Patrick’s not as mean as he sounds.”
“Patrick like… from Spongebob?” Harry asked as she unlocked the back door to let him in.
She grinned like Harry was the first one to automatically get the reference without her having to explain it, “He was a little bit dumb as a puppy.” She shrugged and opened the door and the tan-colored pitbull ran straight towards Harry, jumping on the couch and into his lap like they were already the best of friends.
Patrick got about ten licks to Harry’s poor face before Y/N got a hand in between and tried pulling the stubborn dog away. She apologized again and even though Harry assured her that it was okay, he still seemed highly uncomfortable. When she moved, hoping Patrick would stop molesting Harry with his tongue, she’d been horribly wrong and he went back in for more and Harry was far too polite to do anything about it himself besides making feeble attempts at pushing Patrick away awkwardly.
So, instead, she ran around the couch and pulled him off of Harry, squeezing herself between him and her dog. While Harry wiped off his face, she turned toward him once Patrick had settled down, “I swear he’s trained, he just… forgets boundaries sometimes.” She said the last bit through her teeth, directed specifically at Patrick while petting the dog on the head. He just continued to stare past her at Harry, panting and wagging his tail.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Harry assured her again. He really didn’t mind. Maybe a little, but it wasn’t the end of the world to have too much attention from a dog. Especially if it was her dog.
It was quiet for a moment before she perked up like she’d just remembered something, “Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask before.”
Harry didn’t really want her to leave just yet, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted her to. He could feel the nervous sweat on his forehead and his clammy hands and he just needed a moment to collect himself. So he nodded, “Sure,” and she bounced back up onto her feet and left him alone with Patrick.
While Harry had successfully wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his shirt and his hands on his jeans--and cupped said hand over his mouth to check his breath-- Patrick scooted right up to Harry’s side, curled into a ball, and rested his head on Harry’s lap. Which was the exact sight Y/N returned to moments later with a couple glasses of water in her hands.
“Guess he likes you, then.” She laughed lightly while handing one of the glasses to Harry and sat down on the other side of Patrick. It was a gap bigger than the one between them previously, but Harry was okay with that. Maybe he’d stop sweating so profusely from just being in her presence.
They were quiet again, but not for too long that it ever got awkward. Harry was sure, at this point, that Y/N was a professional at avoiding awkward silences with the way she said the most random shit right out of the blue.
“Do you like stand up?”
He looked at her like he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about, but in hindsight he should have known. In the moment, though, when she caught him off-guard, he literally could not fathom in his brain what she meant by stand up. So he just shrugged and mumbled, “I guess?”
She didn’t seem to notice his enormous brain fart when she reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table a little too excitedly. And once she turned on Netflix and searched for John Mulaney, it clicked in his head. Maybe Trev had been right. Harry might just have something slightly wrong with him.
He’d never personally seen any of Mulaney’s stand up, but he’d heard the name and when Y/N mumbled that he was one of her favorite comedians, that’s all he needed to know about the guy. Harry would sit through hours of his stand up if it meant spending more time with her.
John Mulaney had already gotten a few giggles out of Harry within the first five minutes of The Comeback Kid and every single time it happened, Y/N glanced at him proudly as if she were the one telling the jokes and making Harry laugh.
She felt even more full of herself when John’s punchline about exes came seven minutes in and Harry nearly laughed his entire ass off at, ‘Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.’
Actually, she was certain he’d done some damage to his body when Harry laughed so hard that he held a hand to his stomach, doubled over on the couch and choked on his own spit. She tried not to laugh at his reaction as she sat forward and grabbed his glass of water off the coffee table to hand it to him.
Her movements caused Patrick to get up and jump off of the couch, settling for a cool spot on the hardwood floors to stretch out on as he panted. Harry sipped on his water until he could breathe properly again.
“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “the dick jokes get me every time too.” Although she intended for it to make him feel better, his cheeks just burned twice as hot from the way she said dick so nonchalantly.
“Are there more dick jokes then?” He asked.
“There’s always more dick jokes to be made.” She confirmed, making him chuckle again. “So you’ll stay and laugh at them with me?”
He wasn’t sure at what point she’d gotten so close to him on the couch, but when she laughed and he felt her shoulder shake against his own, he quickly tensed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her closer, he just didn’t want to act like a complete fool again. And his reaction to just her touching his shoulder was enough to tell him foolery was on the horizon.
He also wasn’t sure when it became a given that he was staying to watch all of the John Mulaney specials on Netflix with her, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as he got to hear her laugh and imitate some of the jokes and weird voices John did, he was happy staying exactly where he was all night and, in fact, when she announced they’d burned through all of them, he was disappointed.
Even more so when she flipped the TV off and he wondered how much longer until she planned on saying goodbye and then who knows how long until they’d see each other again.
It was quiet, apart from Patrick’s snores, but not for long.
“I’m sorry I stood up in your car and made you nervous.”
He turned and met her eyes and she was very clearly not sorry about it, but he didn’t want her to be either. “S’alright.”
They stared at each other for a moment while he thought about what else she was going to say, if anything at all. But he should have known better than to assume she didn’t have anything else up her sleeve.
It was just that the next time she spoke there wasn’t the perpetual cute little grin on her face. Instead, she met him with a frown. “To be honest, Harry, I kinda thought you hated me before today.”
He scrunched his face, absolutely detesting that she ever thought that at all. “I don’t hate you.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
She tilted her head to the side while she looked at him and then gave him a reason why it wasn’t that ridiculous of an assumption on her part. “Then why do you always avoid me?”
He felt bad about the way he acted around her, especially since she had the wrong impression about it. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t know how to talk to her when he always acted like a neanderthal around her.
Sighing, he shuffled a bit in his seat as the anxious sweats really made themselves known. “You were right when you said we don’t talk because you make me nervous.”
She grew more confused by that, “You’re literally Harry Styles, how do I make you nervous?”
He shrugged, “Been trying to figure it out myself.”
Although he’d been avoiding her gaze like the plague, sure that he’d never be admitting any of this to her while looking right into her eyes, she still smiled sweetly at him. He was Harry fucking Styles, who got up on a stage more times than she could imagine and sang in front of thousands of people, but she made him nervous.
She took him off guard again. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Harry?”
His eyes quickly panned to her, wide and puzzled by her question. “No… wh--”
She didn’t give him a chance to finish after she’d gotten the only answer she wanted out of him and suddenly she was a lot closer than she’d ever been. In fact, there was no longer a single gap between them as she reached her hand up to his jaw and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Even though he didn’t know how to react at first, feeling her on his lips, his brain swelled with all the good kinds of chemical reactions and he kissed her back, wiping his hand on his jeans again before he touched it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm softly.
Normally, he’d be the one making the first move, but he didn’t really mind it being the other way around with her. Who knows if they ever would have gotten to this point if they’d waited for him to make the first move, after all.
He definitely didn’t mind it when she swiped her tongue across his lower lip and positioned herself into his lap. His head had fallen back into the cushions while she straddled him and got a little too carried away, but, again, he didn’t mind it. He fed off of her energy until he was slipping hesitant hands down her waist and on her backside, making her moan into his mouth that both felt and sounded like heaven.
Heaven. He was in heaven and this completely bizarre angel was in his lap, making out with him on her couch and rubbing herself all up on him in ways that were so very unheavenly.
Neither of their dopamine infused brains registered the sound of Patrick’s collar when it was vastly more important to focus on the way she giggled around his mouth and how his tongue felt swirling around with hers.
However, when he jumped up on the couch beside them and began licking Y/N’s face, she snapped back to reality for a moment. Pulling away from Harry with a whine, she sat back on his knees and wiped the slobber with the back of her hand while she stared over at Patrick.
“Can I help you?”
Patrick did some whining of his own while he dug his paw towards her, begging for attention. So she gave it to him, petting his head and scratching his ears while Harry watched, still very aware of his hands on her hips and her free hand leaning on his shoulder.
“Crazy dog,” she muttered mostly to herself while Patrick laid down next to them.
“Like his owner,” Harry teased, mostly just to bring her attention back to him.
It worked too as she pinged her eyes back to Harry as fast as humanly possible and faked offense, “You think I’m crazy?”
“You asked me to meet your dog and then somehow hooked me into staying for three hours to watch John Mulaney specials and then completely out of nowhere… ended up here.” He nodded his head down at their current positioning with her still perched on his lap.
It took her a moment, but she fully realized what she had done soon enough. And once she did, she was quick to apologize. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”
Before she managed to get much further away from him in failed attempts of removing her foolish self from his lap, he grabbed hold of her wrists and brought her hands up to either side of his head, pulling her as close as she’d been before with just an inch or so gap between their lips this time.
“I think that’s why you make me nervous,” He admitted softly and after glancing between both her wary eyes, his gaze landed on her lips just moments before he stretched upwards to meet them with his again.
They fell back into place completely, except this time, she’d gone as far as to undo all the buttons on his shirt while she made out with him on her couch. Once it was open and she had full range of his chest, she pulled away from him again and watched his body rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. She traced her fingertips over his butterfly tattoo, and like magic formed a few of them in his stomach while he watched her through heavy eyelids.
When their eyes met again, she smiled excitedly. “Does this mean I can drive your car now?”
#100% rewatched the comeback kid in the middle fo writing this jnjvf#but im really happy and proud with how it turned out so im excited!!#kinda longer than i expected it to be but oh well#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#shy!harry
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It’s All In The Eyes - Prologue
It’s finally here. Keep in mind, I don’t really have an editor for my stories, so... Yeah. Any problems will not be immediately spotted.
The morning’s first rays barely peeked through the curtains of the tiny university dorm room when the phone on the nightstand began to ring.
The young man in the bed groaned slightly as he sat up, taking a moment to allow his brain to clear before he answered it.
The woman next to him sat up, stretching her body with a soft groan. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sight of him, her perfect lover. His tall, lean body that she knew every inch of, though she did wince at the sight of the scratch marks on his back, at the sight of broken skin from when she had gotten a bit too enthusiastic. Perhaps it was time that she trimmed her nails, maybe try out the new nail polish she had bought. With a small, happy sigh, she crawled across the small bed and hugged him from behind, her warm, naked body pressing against his back.
“Of course, I will be there tonight.” The man paid the woman no heed as he spoke on the phone, writing a number down on the small pad of paper on the nightstand, keeping his voice curt, his responses short. The woman laid her cheek on his shoulder, a grin so wide on her face her cheeks hurt. She closed her eyes and listened to the rumbling in his chest as he spoke to whoever it was on the phone, to the beating of his heart that seemed so calming. She planted a kiss on his cheek, not noticing how he barely acknowledged her. “I look forward to seeing you and mother there.”
“Who was that, Gabriel?” The woman hugged him a bit tighter, snuggling into him a bit more as she began to plant her kisses down along his neck. He hung up, the phone giving a loud click that seemed to echo through the room.
“My father, confirming a dinner I am to attend tonight.” Gabriel pulled himself from her grasp and kept his back to her as he began to pick up his scattered clothes on the floor. He began getting dressed,letting out a soft hiss as the silk of his shirt settled on the scratches on his back, then smoothed back his pale hair and slid on his glasses. “I am having dinner with my parents and my fiancée.”
“Wait, Gabriel… Does this mean that you know about-” The woman slid from the bed, a smile crossing her face as she reached out for him, but his next words made her stop in her tracks.
“She is a Graham de Vanily, a very exceptional lady from what my father has told me, the eldest daughter of twins.” Gabriel put in as he picked his wallet off of the side table, tucking it into his pocket. “I believe she will make an exceptional wife, and an even better mother to any of my heirs.”
“Wh-hat? Wait, Gabriel, what about us?” She abruptly grabbed his arm and tugged it so that he turned towards her. At the sight of his flat, cold blue eyes, she felt her blood begin to roar through her veins. Her hands trembled and she dug her nails into his arm, though unintentionally. “What about me?”
“Benigna, you were lovely to have as a good place to take care of each other’s bodily needs.” He grabbed her wrist, squeezed it so hard that the pain caused her to release her grasp on his shirt. When she opened her mouth to speak, he gave her wrist another squeeze, a warning. A whimper left her lips. “But I am an Agreste, I need a woman from a prestigious family, a woman with as fine of a pedigree as my own. Émilie Graham de Vanily is the perfect woman for me, a woman whose family is perfect for my own. She is utterly beautiful, in perfect shape. She has the proper education, the proper skills to be a proper wife to give me my heir.”
Beninga felt her throat tightened and she began to tremble. No, this all had to be a mistake, some sort of sick joke.
“B-But Gabriel, I-I’m..”
“A decent woman, yes, but nowhere near worthy enough of being my wife. You should have known going into this partnership of ours, that it would eventually end.” Gabriel gave her a disappointed look, then stepped away as he gestured towards her, the entirety of her body, still wrapped up in a bedsheet. “Your family is mediocre. You have no status, no influence, barely anything of worth for an Agreste.”
Benigna fought back the tears, her hands curled into fists. No, this couldn’t be real, none of this could be real. This all couldn’t have been some sort of simple arrangement, a ‘partnership’. The word sounded so cold, almost sterile. It sounded so wrong to refer to those nights of passion, those nights she had thought were full of love as a mere ‘arrangement’. To think that it all meant nothing to him.
“So it was all nothing? Those nice dinners, that night of dancing?” She blurted out as she hugged herself, glared at his retreating back. "That night you took me to the opera?"
“Merely something nice, due to your companionship. I will send you money, if you wish, but this relationship is ending. I do hope, Benigna, that you find yourself a suitable partner for one of your station. Farewell.” Gabriel didn’t once look back as he left the small dorm room. Benigna dropped to her knees, buried her face into her hands, and began to sob.
…
A few weeks later, Benigna found herself in front of Gabriel’s home. She pressed a shaky finger to the doorbell of the gate, heard the faint buzzing. In the past few weeks, Gabriel Agreste had announced his engagement to one miss Émilie Graham de Vanily. Benigna had seen the pictures in the paper, on the TV, on the large screens in the city squares, that thousands would watch in passing. The woman was very beautiful, with her golden blonde hair and vibrant green eyes, she reminded Benigna of a princess, a perfect woman. Gabriel’s perfect woman.
“What do you think you are doing here?” Gabriel stepped through the gate as soon as it opened, in such a furious fashion that it made Benigna take a step back. His pale eyes slid over her body before they settled on her pale face. “If you are here to cause trouble, I will call security this second.”
“N-no, Gabriel, I just.. I have something for you.” Benigna reached into her purse, though she flinched when she heard him scoff, as if this was suddenly the biggest chore in the world. She glanced up at him as he slowly shook his head and made his way to her.
“I do not want anything from you. I do not want to see your face again. Honestly, here I thought you were an actual adult, not some child chasing after the foolish fairytales of a prince and marriage.” He set a hand on her shoulder, gripped it fiercely and gave her a shove. The abrupt motion caused her to stumble back a few steps. “Get it in your head, before I have to take legal action against you.”
“Gabriel, please, I-I don’t want to marry you, I just want to tell you about-” She tried again, once again reaching into her purse.
“Leave now before I have you tossed off of the property, and I’ll file for a restraining order against you. Maybe get you deported back to Italy!” Gabriel snapped, his fierce blue eyes making her shiver and tear up. “I never want to see you again. Come anywhere near me, my wife, or my parents and I will make you pay, I will destroy your future. I refuse to be seen with someone as low class as you. And if you do anything to try and ruin my wedding, I will do everything in my power to make sure you have no career.”
Benigna watched helplessly as Gabriel headed back inside, the tall iron gates slammed loudly back into place. She nearly doubled over, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched the small envelope in her hands, the one containing the ultrasound of their little baby, that was now growing in her belly.
“Gabriel, please.. I can’t do this all alone..”
She returned to her dorm and curled up, her hands pressed to her slightly round belly. How had Gabriel not noticed it, not felt her belly, their child, when she had embraced him, or even now, he had not noticed it, such a change? He couldn’t have not noticed, he just couldn’t. He was a man that noticed everything, he had noticed her the first time they had had that political sciences class together. He had said that she carried herself with such confidence and grace, he couldn’t help but go and talk to her. It was a week after that, when he had taken her out to dinner, that she had begun falling for him.
She wiped furiously at her tears, realizing that she was sobbing. He had been so kind, so good to her, he had to love her back, he just had to.. She clenched her eyes shut, her hands clutched her belly. She was only two months along. Her baby was so tiny, so new, they were growing inside of her, a part of her, a part of Gabriel.. And he hadn’t even listened to her long enough to learn about her. Or if he knew, he probably wanted nothing to do with the baby. Her baby.
Fine. He wanted to be an asshole about this? He could go ahead and marry that ‘perfect bride’ of his. Have his ‘perfect’ heir, like in a perfect house, and live a perfect wife. Let his father and mother tell him what they wanted from him, and he’d leap and do whatever they wished.
She made herself relax, and spent a few hours collecting herself, rubbing her belly and taking the time to look at the wrinkled ultrasound picture. The picture of her little baby. Her eyes teared up as she thought of the tiny life growing inside of her, the small life she would have to protect. If Gabriel didn’t want to be a part of his child’s life, she wasn’t going to force him. No, she wasn’t sad anymore, after much thought, she was downright furious.
She had wasted almost a year with Gabriel Agreste, a year of her life that she could never get back, and he had carelessly tossed her aside. She had known he had been from a wealthy family, old money, from what she’s heard, but that hadn't mattered to her. She hadn’t asked him for money, he’d never gotten her jewelry or any kind of gifts, she still lived in her small, cramped dorm room.
She had thought about marriage once or twice, yes, but what kind of woman in love hadn’t? She had thought about getting a home with Gabriel, of both of them living their lives, him with his designing and her diplomatic work. She already had a job set up being a foreign service worker here in Paris. They’d work, yes, but they’d both dedicate their lives to raising their children. She saw now that those dreams were nothing but ash.
She’d wanted a marriage full of love, full of trust and devotion. Gabriel wouldn’t have given her that, she had been blind to that. It had just been sex, just things that he needed, his base urges. He had only cared about things being.. Perfect. He had even gone as far as to insult her parents, whose marriage was one Benigna admired and aimed for. One where they were married now going on forty years. They had married young, and they had had their spats, yes, but they still loved each other, they were a unit that stood firm and took care of the family, the life that they had built together.
Oh God, her parents.. What would she tell her parents? She had been hoping she and Gabriel would tell them together…
That caused Benigna to burst into tears once again. By the end of it, when she had calmed down, she finally called that long distance call back to Italy. Upon hearing her mother’s warm voice when she picked up, she began to cry once again.
“Oh, mi Benigna, what is wrong? I am here sweetheart, whatever you need.” Her mother spoke, only concern for her distressed daughter on her mind. And her daughter told her everything, down to the very last detail.
When Beninga was met with silence after telling her tale, she had been fearful that her mother had hung up on her. But soon her mother spoke again.
“My sweet, if you want to come home, you can. You come home right away, and we’ll help you take care of your baby. Your father and I will pay for your ticket and you can come right home. We will help you with everything.” She soothed, and Benigna wished she had her mother right in front of her, to hug her tight. “We will get you the next plane ticket back here, right this second.”
Benigna gave herself to calm down, to wipe away those tears and collect herself. She felt such warmth and love radiating from this one phone call, those simple words her mother spoke that meant so much to her. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.
“Mama.. I only have a few months left before I graduate. Let me finish this up first, it would be a waste to drop out with such a small stretch left to complete. Then I will fly right home to you and Papa, and I’ll have my baby. Is.. Is Papa upset?” She whispered that last question softly, her hands trembled around the phone she gripped tighter.
“Not at you, mia bella, he is more so upset at that horrible man and what he has done with you. Claiming he has no honour, among other things.” Her mother mused, and the two women shared a soft chuckle.
“I was a fool, Mama, a fool to believe in him..” She sighed as her hand once again returned to her belly, already daydreaming of holding them in her arms. “I am so foolish, to believe the words of a man who has nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
…
The months went by in a blur for Benigna. She avoided Gabriel, avoided the friends that they shared, but if she encountered them and they commented on her rounding belly, she’d merely say that she was coping with a bad breakup with a large amount of ice cream. She wasn’t going to let Gabriel anywhere near her baby.
She would lay in bed, late at night, near tears as she tried to swallow down the hurt and the heartbreak, but those feelings still clung to her like leeches, trying their best to drain her of any happiness, to go down the path of misery.
But she wouldn’t let it, she wouldn’t let him. Gabriel and his need to please, his need to fit in the box his parents forced him into, the box that his perfect bride was forced into. She was determined to never do that to her own child. She would give so much love to this child, more love than two parents could ever give. She would be a dedicated mother to this life that was so small, so new. She would give this child freedom to be whoever they wanted to be, to love whoever they wanted to love, though she’d step in if she knew that that person was dangerous for them. Her life would be dedicated to herself and her child, she wouldn’t give into fancy, into foolish dreams of romance without facing reality ever again.
On the day of her graduation, she didn’t even stay after the ceremony. She flew straight home, and to her small town. The cab pulled up in front of her parent’s small home, a place of warmth and so many memories for Benigna. Her mother was out of the front door and making her way down the walkway as her daughter was getting out of the cab, a hand on her five month pregnant belly.
When her mother embraced her, Benigna was overwhelmed by the smell of sugar and cinnamon. Her mother must have been baking before she had arrived, the realization caused warmth to spread through her.
“I have some cinnamon rolls waiting inside for you, sweetheart, and we have your room ready. Freshly cleaned bedding and fresh flowers in your room. We even cleaned out our spare room for the baby, we’re looking for a crib now.” Her mother took to the house once they had gathered up her bags, and she stepped into home and all of her worries at that moment melted away.
“Wait, mama, hold on! I can find a crib myself, don’t worry about such things. I will get everything I need for the baby, please.” Benigna rushed over to her mother, but her mouth snapped shut when her mother held up a hand.
“Now that is enough. I am already talking with Paulo, you know, the carpenter? Well, he and his wife have a crib they are no longer using, so they said that they would give it to us. And one of our neighbours has agreed to give us her high chair, as well as..”
Benigna listened in stunned silence as her mother went on and one about all of the things she and her father had already gotten ready for the baby.
“What colour would you like the baby’s room to be?” Her father stepped into the front hall with them, still as tall and imposing as ever. He was a man who had worked hard all of his life for himself and his family, and he still worked hard today to keep in firm shape, despite his age.
“Y-you two..” Benigna whispered, but felt her throat tighten as she was practically swamped by the love they were giving so unconditionally. No anger, no blame, no resentment from either. She fell into pieces as her father embraced her as she began to cry.
After she arrived home, she felt.. Better, as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Perhaps it was due to being in a completely different country than Gabriel, of being surrounded by love once again.
She managed to get a part time office job. She didn’t want to start her career and have to leave right away due to her pregnancy, then motherhood. Baby steps, she needed to take baby steps with all of this.
Everyone in the town was welcoming, at least, to her face. There were a few that she had heard about, disapproving about how she was a single mother having a baby out of wedlock, though she ignored it. She wouldn’t trade this baby for all of the money in the world, wouldn’t give this baby up for a future with Gabriel, at the smallest chance of him leaving his fiancée and choosing to be with her. Which would happen when pigs flew.
Benigna continued to stroll down the sidewalk in the center of town, her hands full of bags of baby clothes and toys. So lost in her thoughts, Benigna didn’t even notice the man running towards her, as she began to descend some stairs, heading towards a small shop her mother had recommended for her. She swore, her mother almost more excited about the baby than herself, but only almost. The man shoved past her, shouting something in a phone he was holding to his ear. He didn’t even glance back when she cried out and fell down the steps, soon finding herself sprawled on her ground.
“Miss! Are you okay?!” A young teen ran up to her, looking rather panicked as he knelt next to the woman. He noticed her round belly and turned abruptly to his friend. “Livia, call an ambulance!”
Benigna felt panic the entire way to her hospital, continuing to scream and cry, begging them to save her baby. The fall had only been a small tumble, but she felt pain in her stomach and had feared the worst.
It all went by in a blur, being rushed into the ER, the nurses asking her questions, the doctors, as she kept begging and begging for them to check on her baby. Before eventually, she was left to sit in a room, on a hospital bed as her hand trailed over her round belly.
“Hello, Miss Leone.” A tall man stepped into the room then, dressed in the spotless white doctor’s coat and a clipboard in his hand. Benigna had to judge that he was a few years, a mess of dark brown hair, a handsome face and strong jaw. But what caught her attention the most was his eyes, such a fierce and soul piercing kind of green. “I am Dr. Rossi. It seems you had a bit of a spill.”
“Please, Dr. Rossi, my baby, are they safe?!” She leaned forward a bit more. The doctor saw how her hands grasped her shirt over her round belly, how they trembled as if holding on for dear life. He set a gentle hand over hers.
“You baby is fine, perfectly healthy. The worst thing you will need are the stitches they gave your forehead, and some minor scrapes and bruises. You are quite healthy as well, your scans and blood tests came back just fine. You’re fine.” He gave her hand a gentle little squeeze, as their eyes met. “Would you like me to call your husband for you, get him to pick you up?”
“O-oh, well, I’m not… Not married..” She found that her cheeks heated up, practically burned when she met the handsome doctor’s gaze, before her gaze flickered away. “I am living with my parents now. I’m.. I’m, well, alone, I guess.”
“Oh. Please forgive me for assuming, I should have asked.” He cleared his throat and took a step back, focusing his gaze on the clipboard. Wait, was he blushing? “Well, I’m going to have the nurses double check the stitches and the cuts, just to be safe, and you will be free to go.”
“Thank you, Dr. Rossi. I really appreciate it.” She pressed a hand to her belly once more, watching as he left. He paused in the doorway, looking as if he were about to say something, but chose instead to merely smile and leave her be, with a nurse coming in a few minutes later to check her over.
…
Benigna found herself bumping into Dr. Rossi on occasion during her outings in town. When they did, they’d walk and talk if they had a chance, Benigna about her goals to becoming an ambassador, and Marcello, she soon found his name was, had always dreamed of being a doctor, of helping those in need.
She found he was kind and gentle, as well as an astoundingly hilarious sense of humour. No one had made her laugh so much as he did, making her laugh to the point of tears and she was gasping for breath. She felt as if she were walking on the cloud. With the two months she spent with Marcello, Gabriel hadn’t even crossed her mind.
All of that bliss slid away as soon as one day she arrived at the hospital, carrying a small box of pastries. The receptionist at the counter gave her a sad smile.
“I’m guessing that he never told you. Dr. Rossi had to return to Rome, his mother’s health took a sudden turn.” She shook her head in obvious pity, before reaching out the deflating woman’s hand a gentle pat. “I’m sure he’ll be back once she is all better.”
But he didn’t come back .His time at the hospital was up, and he had taken a job at a hospital in Rome, she bet. Always choose the better option than the one from a small town. Benigna scolded herself for getting her hopes up again.
…
Four months later, her daughter was born. Benigna held the squabbling little baby in her arms, her body drenched with sweat, in absolute agony from her labour. But seeing the tiny little girl in her arms, it was well worth it.
“She’s so tiny, just like you were..” Her mother crooned softly, her large smile hidden behind the surgical mask she had been told to wear, rubbing her hand from when her daughter had squeezed it while giving birth. “Did you think of a name for her?”
“I was thinking.. Noemi. My little Noemi.” Benigna let out a soft sob at the sight of her little daughter, before she glanced up at her mother. “My gift, and I’ll be a better parent without him. He will never know her.”
…
“Mama, can we go to the park?” Noemi tugged on her mother’s hand, the two of them walking along the sidewalk, while the little three year old pointed frantically at the entrance to the park that they were passing. “Please, please Mama!”
“Well…” Beninga glanced down at her watch with a small frown, before she chuckled. “I suppose we can, I don’t have to be at my appointment for another few hours.”
“Yay!” Noemi hopped alongside her mother as they made their way towards the park, the warm sun beating down on them. Benigna took a seat on a bench under the shade of a large tree, while Noemi took off, running around the playground and laughing with pure delight as she joined the other children.
“I must say, she has grown quite well. She’ll no doubt grow to be a real beauty.”
The sudden voice behind her had the young woman jolting on the bench, before she turned and stared at the person behind her.
Dr. Rossi gave her a wry smile as he leaned against the back of the bench. His thick hair was windswept, his tall, broad figure clad in a pair of faded jeans and an old t shirt. To Benigna, he looked like the most handsome man on earth.
"Marcello.." His name left her lips in a soft whisper as she got to her feet. Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest as her gaze met his amazingly green eyes. "I thought you were going to be staying in Rome.."
"I would have, but let's just say, a few things brought me back." He smiled and held out his hand, taking hers and kissing her knuckles. "I missed you, Benigna."
It only took a few months before the two were engaged.
Noemi adored her father. Marcello loved his new daughter. Many in the village would see the two going to get ice cream whenever Mrs. Rossi wanted an evening to herself, or the family of three going to the park or the movies together, whenever Marcello or Benigna had time off of work.
And two years after their wedding day, a fourth member was added to the family.
"Mimi.. Come and meet your little sister." Marcello scooped seven year old Noemi into his arms, smiling to himself as he felt her small, thin arms wrap around his neck, holding on for dear life. The two of them made their way over to the hospital bed, where a weary Benigna lay, holding a bundle in her arms.
"This is Lila, Noemi. Want to say hello?" She murmured, her lashes fluttering slightly as she felt both in extreme pain, and exhausted.
Noemi stared down at the chubby, scrunched up face of her new baby sister, her little rosebud mouth pursed, as if in deep thought, before it spilt into a wide grin.
"Hello Lila! Don't you worry, I'll be the best big sister ever!"
Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous au#Illegitimate Child AU#gabriel agreste salt#ml salt#lila salt#lila rossi#gabriel agreste#mrs rossi#lila's mother
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