#again i had lots of help from mutuals just bouncing ideas around w me
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alt-wannabe · 2 months ago
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MCSR Pokémon Teams
some explanations included but largely based on vibes alone
i got a bunch of suggestions from mutuals so if that’s you hiiiii thank you :3
(disclaimer i don’t know shit about competitive so these teams are nawt viable for that at all)
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- i knew i wanted him to have an electric type and i landed on rotom for its various forms and versatility
- pangoro because i wanted him to have a fighting type and also bc of pandas in AA
- blastoise is a full soul read idk
- hatterene bc of the colors
- porygon z also for the colors and also bc it seemed fitting (this was a gigabrain lompleg suggestion everyone say thank you lompleg)
-deoxys speed form i feel is self explanatory
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-ngl a good half of this team is straight vibe picks with no like REAL reasoning
- durant is silver in color everyone say wow
- gogoat as a callback to his skin w the horns
- the hair on the zoroark reminds me of how people draw his hair
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- when i asked in chat he said his favorite pokémon was dragonair so he gets one
- flygon’s little eye things make me think of glasses
- shuckle
- a lot of people were of the consensus he should have a water type, i picked tentacruel largely bc the things on its head match flygon’s eyes ngl
- banette reminds me of phantom house of nightmares fulham for some reason
- british football playing pokémon from the british region
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- similar to fulham and dragonair, fruit likes goomy so he gets a goomy
- iirc he had an event skin where he was a vile plume
- tinkaton gives me huge fruit energy that thing is a little deranged (in the best way possible)
- he’s associated with bats fairly often so he gets a crobat
- bellibolt’s goofy lil face reminded me of :]
- weavile is agile i don’t have that much more reasoning
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- mr rime is here because i despise the pokémon mr mime
- and also gold suggested it would be funny as an alternative
- inteleon and metagross are both pure soul reads
- moots thought hisuian arcanine would be good to a.) give him a dog pokémon and b.) represent captain mime and i agree
- i’m gonna be so real the entirety of my reasoning behind sceptile is sometimes when mime gets snarky i basically imagine that’s his facial expression
- look at linoone’s color scheme and tell me i’m wrong
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- couri likes milotic so he gets a milotic
- espeon and starmie are both purple and give off couriway energy to me
- shiny pidgeot can fly and is in couri colors!
- delphox is a reference to my mcsr d&d stuff where i made couri a wizard
- idk why sandslash i just like him
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- shot-in-the-dark pick city, population: reignex
- i basically only have reasoning for 3 of these
- ursaluna is a bear
- emboar reminds me of piglins and hoglins in the nether
- low key toxtricity was a suggestion i was a fan of
- other than that i made choices based off gut feeling alone
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- purple cat liepard yay
- mismagius makes me think of that super cool vio art of raddles as a necromancer
- gardevoir is pretty enough said
- hydreigon and toxapex were both purple and had fitting energy imo
- noibat reminds me of her blockwars purple phantoms skin
uhh that’s all i’ve got for now! maybe more later or if you have teams for people i didn’t come up with you should totally add them onto this post :3
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prismatoxic · 5 months ago
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Chilbru is an interesting ship. I hadn't thought about those two. What made you get into that one? (I want to see if it resonates w me cuz I like the idea)
tbh i got into it while working on me and devot's collab fic imposter syndrome, which is a chilaios fic, but is the first time i meaningfully wrote chilchuck and kabru interacting and realized they'd bounce off of each other in a really fun way
i think they're very different people, but they could absolutely be swayed to work closely together and could find common ground and mutual respect if pressed. and imposter syndrome is very much pressing, which is how i got to explore it in the first place
here's one of the parts of chapter 1 that i enjoyed a lot (under the cut bc it's spoilers for both our fic and late dungeon meshi, as this fic is canon divergence with the climax of the manga)
"It's appreciated," Kabru says as he steps away, heading for the shelves along the nearby wall. "Now we just need to get in contact with the captain."
"You're going to write a letter now?" Chilchuck asks, turning to watch as Kabru stops in front of a shelf and reaches for something. When he turns back around, it's not writing tools in his hand, but rather one of the little fairies the Canaries had used back in the dungeon. Chilchuck stares.
"I told you that he instructed me to do what I could," Kabru says, returning to the bed and sitting down with some space between him and Laios. "He gave me this when he did. If anything changed, I was to report to him as soon as possible." He adjusts his hold on the creature, gripping it in a loose fist, and Chilchuck notes with some discomfort that it seems like an animate object, but not a living one. Magic, then, he supposes.
"So he'll answer this?" Chilchuck asks cautiously. "Do you know how to use it?"
"Barely, but it should go through," Kabru assures. He hesitates, then, and takes a deep breath. "I misled you before. He's not even going to relay this to the other Canaries, unless something's changed. There's practically no chance we'll get any more support from this than just the captain."
"Wh—" Chilchuck crosses his arms again, staring at Kabru, brows furrowed. He wants to be angry, but mostly, he just feels surprised. "You lied to me, but now you're telling me the truth? Did you have a change of heart?"
"I wanted to ensure that you'd have enough faith in this plan to stick with it," Kabru explains somberly. "Even if you don't trust the Canaries, a full force is better than just one man. I just... underestimated your resolve, I think. I'm sorry."
Chilchuck frowns at him. "Why do you even need me, though? To keep Laios docile? I'd have done that no matter what your plan was, he's my friend."
"You're close to Marcille and Falin," Kabru says, and Laios's tail wags a little in Chilchuck's periphery. "You're the only one who can try to get through to either of them. Marcille is a better bet, but either way, I can't do this without you. On top of that, if we want to enlist the aid of people like Toshiro or the Tansu's party, I'd be better off having a familiar face by my side."
Chilchuck is pretty sure Kabru and Shuro have a better rapport with each other now than he does with Shuro, but he doesn't say that. What he does say is, "I'll help, but I can't promise I'll be of much use to you."
Kabru leans forward a little, bracing his free hand on one knee. "You'll be invaluable, I promise. And that's why I need you to trust me. For better or for worse, we're in this together."
They watch each other for a long moment, and finally Chilchuck nods. "Alright. Let's try to get in contact with the captain."
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intheticklecloset · 4 years ago
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A Good Tickling (My Hero Academia)
Primary Universe
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This one is a direct sequel to “Wardrobe Malfunction,” as requested above. It’s also officially the longest fic I’ve ever written for any fandom, clocking in at 3,000+ words, so buckle up! I really had fun delving into this one and exploring Kirishima and Bakugou’s friendship on a bit of a deeper level while still turning it into a tickle fic by the end. I sincerely hope you enjoy! <3
6: “You want me to tickle you that bad?”
25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”
8: “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
20: “Stop resisting!”
19: “I see that smile. Come on, laugh!”
25: “Let’s see how long you can go without laughing.”
You’ll notice for some of the numbered prompts I didn’t use the exact quote, but a variation thereof. This was to help prevent repetitiveness as well as maintain believable story flow. They’re still in the fic, just perhaps not word for word.
Warning: Slight angst.
~
Kirishima was quiet. Like, really quiet. Too quiet. And Bakugou was extremely aware of it.
The silence had come on gradually, over the course of a couple of weeks. At first it was just small pockets of time during which the redhead seemed to shrink in on himself for no discernable reason, but he’d soon bounce back when someone started talking to him, Bakugou included. But as time went on, those pockets of silence became entire hours, which became days by the time two weeks had gone by.
Then Bakugou noticed something even more disconcerting.
Kiri would only be silent around him.
He’d walk into a situation in which Kiri was his normal self, having a good time with their other mutual friends and classmates, and boom. Instant shutdown. It was impossible to ignore after the second time it happened that Kirishima was going silent because of his presence, and Bakugou was actually getting worried about it.
It all came to a head one night when Bakugou went downstairs for dinner, where Kiri and some others were already starting to eat. As soon as he entered the room Kiri’s face went dark and he stopped speaking, which was already bothersome to the atomic teen before the redhead then stood up, put his practically uneaten dinner in the fridge, and left the room.
That was the moment Bakugou realized he’d done something wrong. Somewhere along the line and without knowing it, he’d upset Kirishima so much that his closest friend couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as him anymore.
No, he thought. I have to fix this. So he turned right back around and followed Kirishima to his dorm room.
“It’s open,” Kiri called when Bakugou knocked, and as soon as the door was open enough for him to see who was visiting, he turned his back and didn’t say anything.
Bakugou felt awkward closing the door behind him as he entered the silent space, but he’d resolved to find out what was going on. He hated this rift that existed between them now. He wanted to close it up. To be close with Kiri again. He missed him, dang it.
For a long while words failed him. How was he supposed to approach this when he didn’t know what was wrong? Finally Bakugou cleared his throat. “Hey. Are you mad at me?”
Kiri’s shoulders slumped. “No.”
Well, that was a relief, at least. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
Bull. Bakugou fought back an angry retort and said in his calmest voice, “You can run from me all you like, Kirishima, but at the end of the day you can’t hide that you’re upset with me about something. It’s written all over your face every time you look at me. So…” He sighed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Kiri still wouldn’t look at him. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to you,” Bakugou shot back, “and I don’t like that you aren’t yourself around me lately. Where’s that loud, obnoxious, spiky-haired idiot I usually hang out with?”
“I don’t know.”
Bakugou’s irritation was rising, but he used every ounce of willpower he had to fight it. He tried to think rationally. When had this all started? Not long after that day in the locker room when he called Kiri’s costume stupid. Was that it? “Is this because of what I said about your hero costume?”
Kirishima tensed, but shook his head. “No.” His voice was quieter now. “It’s not that.”
“Well, you started being really weird around me after that, so what gives?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The redhead got up from his seat at his desk and finally turned to look at him, and the look in his eyes – the upset, lost, desperate look – was like a sucker punch to the stomach to Bakugou. Guilt washed over him, and he still didn’t even know why.
“Yes, it does.” Bakugou felt something inside him soften. He dared to take a step closer. “Please, Kiri, tell me what I did wrong. I want to fix it. Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”
Kirishima seemed to have some kind of struggle within himself. He grabbed onto the back of his desk chair and gripped it so hard Bakugou thought it might splinter. Finally he muttered, “It’s just…I’ve tried everything I can think of. Nothing’s working.”
“What isn’t?”
“I’ve tried tickling you,” Kiri continued, his eyes everywhere but the blonde. “I’ve tried outing you to our friends, I’ve tried tickling you in public, teasing you in public, saying things I thought would make you angry enough to retaliate…nothing!” He shoved his chair into his desk so hard it made Bakugou jump. “And then when you finally tickle me and call it revenge, we’re in the middle of class so I can’t even enjoy it because I don’t want to get in trouble. And I try challenging you openly and still nothing!” The redhead was on a roll now that the words were finally coming. “Even Sero has tickled me nearly to death, and he almost never does that kind of thing. Everyone seems to get it. Everyone can tell when I want it. But even when I outright tell you to do your worst, you do nothing!”
Bakugou was stunned.
“Why is it,” Kiri continued, voice rising, “that all of our friends know that I love being tickled and will tickle me when I want it, but my best friend just stands there even when I’m practically begging him to destroy me? I don’t understand!”
This time, the silence was on Bakugou’s end. He had no idea what to say. He’d never seen Kiri so openly upset, and over something that could have so easily been avoided if he’d just pulled his head out of his butt long enough to see how much damage his apathy was doing.
A long minute passed before he was able to speak.
“I…” Bakugou cleared his throat. “I didn’t know…I mean, I knew you liked it, but…I didn’t realize how much…” He frowned. “You want me to tickle you that bad?”
“Ugh!” Kirishima covered his face with his hands and cried, “Yes!”
“I’m…I’m sorry.” Bakugou took another step closer. “Kiri, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. It…it means a lot, doesn’t it?”
“It’s so stupid,” Kiri growled, but Bakugou could tell even before he turned his back again that his friend was on the verge of tears. Another sucker punch to the gut. “It’s so stupid. It’s just tickling. I shouldn’t be so upset over this, right? It’s so dumb of me.”
“Oh, heck no.” No way was Bakugou letting him go down this path with his thoughts. He strode right up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. “Do not feel bad about this. This is my fault. This isn’t because you weren’t clear enough. I knew what you were asking for and I just stood there, like you said. Like a complete and total jerk. Do not apologize for my mistakes. Let me do that. Kiri, I’m so sorry.”
Kiri said nothing, but he swallowed thickly, and Bakugou pulled him into a hug before he could think twice about it. He held the redhead close and waited, hoping that his apology would be accepted. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. Then, finally, Kiri wrapped his arms around him, too, sighing heavily into his shoulder.
“What is it?” Bakugou asked softly, genuinely, trying not to disturb the moment. As much as he hated sentiment, he didn’t want to screw this up any more than he already had. “Why is it so important to you? I want to understand.”
“That’s just it,” Kiri mumbled in reply. “I can’t put my finger on it, exactly. It’s just…it’s so much fun, and it makes me feel good, and when it’s with my friends I know I can feel comfortable and be open about it without judgement, and even when I’m getting absolutely destroyed I know I’m safe and they’ll stop when I really need them to. But until then I can just…laugh until I can’t breathe.” The redhead pulled away from Bakugou, keeping his eyes averted. “I don’t know. It’s just so much fun. And with you, I know you’re good at tickling; I’ve heard Midoriya talk about it, I even experienced it a couple of times. And you’re my best friend, so more than anyone else I want you to tickle me into next year. So when I openly asked you to and all this time has gone by and you’ve had lots of opportunities and you didn’t, I just…” Kiri bit his lip. “I felt like maybe you really didn’t care. You act like it a lot, but this time…this time I wondered if you—”
“I care,” Bakugou said quickly, desperate to bring an end to that train of thought. “I care, Kiri, I’m just a complete jerk.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “God, I really screwed things up. I’m an idiot.”
Kiri offered a weak smile. “It’s okay—”
“No it’s not okay!” Bakugou snapped. “Are you kidding me? Look how upset you are over this! How is any part of this okay? No.” He shook his head. “No. I have to fix this. I want to fix this.” He thought for a moment, then met Kiri’s eyes. “Do you still want me to?”
Kirishima stared at him. “W-What? Now?”
“Or later,” Bakugou said quickly. “If I haven’t ruined everything. But – but yeah, I’ll do it now, if you want.”
Kiri took a step back. “Talk about whiplash.”
“I know I’ve been a jerk, and I know you’re upset, but if you’re okay with it I’d much rather make you laugh right now—”
“Bakugou,” Kiri said, “I want you to tickle me. But only if you want to. Don’t do it just because you feel obligated. Do it because you mean it.”
Bakugou nodded once. “I mean it. I’ll tickle you into oblivion now, and then later I’ll do it again and again and again. I do want to make you laugh, Kiri. Really.” He dared to smirk. “But even more, I kind of want to see how much it will take for you to beg me for mercy.”
Kiri frowned. “It will take a lot. I’m not kidding about that.”
“Then bring it on.” Bakugou tackled Kirishima onto his bed, making the redhead yelp in surprise. He swung a leg over to straddle him and paused, just once. “You sure this is okay right now?”
“For the love of god, Bakugou,” Kiri groaned, “if you don’t make good on your promise right here and now I swear I will end our friendship and then end you!”
“Good enough for me.” Bakugou grinned wickedly, shoving Kiri’s arms above his head. “All right, then. When you really can’t take it anymore, tap out. Until then, I will not stop. Got it?”
“Prove it,” Kiri spat, but his eyes were hopeful.
“Keep those arms up there.” Bakugou growled, releasing his hold and sitting back. “Move them and I’ll make it worse.”
“All bark and no bite?”
“Hah.” Bakugou smirked. “One more thing. I want to make you laugh so hard you forget your own name. But before that, I want to see how long you can go without laughing. Bet you’re not going to be very good at that part.”
Kiri smirked back. “Bring it on already.”
Bakugou did, lightly trailing his fingers from Kiri’s underarms down his ribs and sides to his stomach, watching the redhead twitch a little but – surprisingly – do very well in keeping himself in control. “Hmm,” the blonde mused. “Should have had you take your shirt off. That would make this easier.”
“Want to enjoy the view?” Kiri teased. “I told you I look good in my costume as it is.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Give me a break.”
“The shirt stays on. You made me wait this long. Now I’m going to make you work for it.”
“I don’t think that will be hard, considering I can just do this.” The blonde shoved his hands up under Kiri’s t-shirt and raked his nails down his ribs roughly, making Kiri choke on a startled yelp. “Giving in already?”
“No way!”
“We’ll see.”
Bakugou got to work, starting very lightly and increasing the pressure with every pass, making sure to focus on the ribs when he circled back to them each time, knowing that was Kiri’s worst spot and very likely the place that would break him and make him laugh first. Kirishima kept his arms above his head as instructed and his smile widened more and more, but he did better than Bakugou was expecting at keeping his mirth at bay.
“Dang, you’re stubborn,” the blonde muttered after a few minutes of this. “Stop resisting, already.”
“Y-You’re the o-one who wanted m-me to h-hold out,” Kiri stammered. If nothing else, he sounded close to breaking, and that was satisfying just on its own. “I’m c-c-committed n-now.”
“Well, knock it off. I see that smile, but I want to hear you laugh, spiky hair.” Bakugou decided to be a little mean and press his thumbs into Kiri’s bottom ribs, kneading gently. “Come on. Let it out.”
“Agh, n-no,” Kiri’s voice wobbled as he tried to stay in check, his grin splitting his face. He squirmed a little. “That’s cheating!”
“Oh, is it? Too bad. Playing dirty is kind of my thing when it comes to tickling. Ask Deku.”
“I k-know all about that. He’s t-t-told me how r-ruthless you ahare.”
Bakugou kneaded deeper. “Was that a giggle?”
“Ah! N-No, no!”
“It sounded like a giggle.”
“It w-w-wasn’t!”
Feeling evil, Bakugou kept up his kneading pace and began to tease. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”
Kiri whined. “Oh, y-you so don’t p-plahay fair!”
“Now that was a giggle.”
“You s-s-suck so much--!”
Bakugou dug his fingers in deep to Kirishima’s ribcage, and with a shriek of surprise, the redhead finally broke.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU JEHEHEHEHEHEHERK I WAHAHAHAS DOING SO GOHOHOHOHOHOOD!!”
“Too good,” Bakugou corrected over Kiri’s laughter, impressed his friend’s arms were still above his head, albeit flailing now. “I was getting tired of you showing me up from such a helpless position. Forget resisting. It’s time to make you laugh your guts out.”
“YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU SOHOHOHOHON OF A--!!”
Bakugou slapped a hand over his mouth and tickled wildly with his other hand, enjoying the look of sheer panic that came over Kiri’s face. The redhead started to bring his arms down. “Ah-ah-ah! What did I say? Keep them up.” Kiri whined, fisting his hands into his hair while his legs kicked wildly, the sounds of his distress muffled. “Well now, this is satisfying. You look hilarious, all freaked out like that. Didn’t think I’d pull out all the stops, did you?”
Kiri screeched when Bakugou started pinching his bottom ribs.
“I mean, I suppose I could also tie you up if I really wanted to be mean. But that’s your call, and you can’t talk right now, so I’m not going to assume anything.”
Kirishima started to bring his arms down again, then settled for covering his face with them. His laughter was loud and crazy, even behind Bakugou’s palm over his mouth. The blonde smirked down at his friend, marveling at how much he seemed to enjoy this, despite the obvious ticklish distress he was in.
“You’re probably thinking, ‘I thought you said you wanted to hear me laugh? Why are you covering my mouth?’ Right?” Bakugou chuckled. “I do want to hear you laugh. But it’s so much fun to make you desperate first. You’re just dying to let it out now, aren’t you? No more holding back?”
Kirishima managed a split-second glare in the midst of his muffled hysterics before nodding frantically.
“That’s what I thought.” Bakugou finally pulled his hand away and used both hands to rake up and down Kiri’s ribs.
“SOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOMEWHEHEHEHERE ELSE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, PLEASE GO SOHOHOHOMEWHERE EHEHEHEHEHELSE!!”
Bakugou laughed. “What’s wrong? Can’t take it here anymore? But I want to hear you laugh, Kirishima.”
“I AHAHAHAHAHAHAM LAHAHAHAHAHAUGHING!!” Kiri screamed, his arms flailing wildly above him. “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU!!”
“Honestly, I’m just trying to find the technique that will make you bring your arms down to stop me,” the blonde said with a shrug. “So I can make it worse.”
Kiri’s laughter was wild already, and they were only a few minutes in. He squealed and shrieked and thrashed and kicked but – somehow – kept his arms above him the entire time. Bakugou was impressed. That had to take serious effort on his part.
Now, how to break that concentration?
He’d tried kneading, pinching, and raking – all obviously effective forms of ticklish torture. But nothing had made Kiri’s fight-or-flight instinct kick in the way he’d hoped it would. What was he missing?
“Oh, I think I know what will drive you nuts.” Bakugou laughed, suddenly leaning down to blow the longest raspberry he could manage on Kirishima’s bottom ribs. Sure enough, not a whole second had gone by before he felt Kiri’s hands grabbing at his hair frantically.
“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DOHOHOHOHOHON’T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!!”
“Well, well. I told you to keep your arms up.” Bakugou smirked, grabbing Kiri’s wrists and pinning them to the mattress by his sides. “Now I’ll have to punish you.”
Kiri gasped for breath while he could, his eyes wide and cheeks pink and hair wild, but behind it all, it was obvious to Bakugou that his best friend was having the time of his life. He couldn’t believe he’d made him wait this long. Made him practically beg for something as simple as a good tickling.
“Y-You’re gonna…b-break me,” Kiri stammered between breaths of air, sounding surprised. “I w-won’t be able to…to take it at this rate!”
“That’s the idea, isn’t it? You wanted me to destroy you, right?”
Kiri beamed. “Yeah.”
“Still good to go?”
“Yeah!”
Bakugou took a big breath, then blew another raspberry. Then another, then another, then another. Then he got to work absolutely destroying Kirishima with tickle torture, digging into his underarms and sides and hips and knees and feet, but especially his ribs, until the minutes added up and added up for nearly an hour, and by the time they were done Kirishima was laughing so hard his voice was giving out and tears streamed down his cheeks and he was pounding the mattress as desperately as he could to gain some shred of mercy from the tickle monster that was Katsuki Bakugou.
And when it was all over and Bakugou finally relented, Kirishima kept giggling even without the tickling stimulation, shaking his head in disbelief and gasping for oxygen. “I c-can’t…breheheathe…”
“You asked for it,” Bakugou reminded him, but he couldn’t help but grin at the mess he’d made of his closest friend. “And I promise, the next time you ask for it, I won’t hesitate to do this to you again. And again and again. As many times as you ask for it, I’ll destroy you, Kiri.”
“W-What about…playful tickles…?”
“Those, too.” Bakugou nodded. “I swear I’ll stop being an idiot about this. You ask, I’ll answer. I promise. I won’t ever let you give me the silent treatment again. I’ll be a best friend worthy of the title.” He wanted to cringe at himself for saying it, but it was all true, and besides that, Kirishima’s response was more than worth it.
“You were already a great best friend,” the redhead replied tiredly, lifting his head off the pillow to grin at him. “This just makes you that much better. Thank you, Katsuki. Seriously.”
Bakugou swallowed, feeling a little awkward due to all the sentiment in the room. He nudged Kiri’s leg. “Thanks for putting up with me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Sure you do. You’re a little rough around the edges but you’re a cool dude, King Explosion Murder.”
Bakugou’s lips twitched. “I told you if you called me that again there would be consequences.”
“Yeah?” Kiri chuckled. He leveled a clear, challenging smirk at the blonde. “Prove it.”
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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago
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Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!
This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 
Double-Blind: 5K
Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?
The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—
“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”
“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.
“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”
Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”
“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”
Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”
Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”
Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.
Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”
Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.
“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.
Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”
“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”
Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.
“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.
Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.
--
Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.
“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”
Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.
“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”
“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”
Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”
Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”
Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”
Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”
Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.
“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”
Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.
--
Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.
Hey whats up?
No, that would be so weird.
Hiya, this is martin!
Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?
Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.
Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.
Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)
As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.
----
It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.
The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”
Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”
“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.
“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”
“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.
Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—
They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.
An unknown number flicked across the screen:
Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)
i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.
if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)
Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.
Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.
Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.
…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.
Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.
----
Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.
dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.
btw i never got your name?
Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.
As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.
Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?
________________________________________________________________
Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.
Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.
They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.
----
Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.
He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.
“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.
“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”
Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.
Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”
Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.
They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.
“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”
Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”
“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”
“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”
“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”
Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”
“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”
“Oh? And what are you studying again?”
“English Lit-hey!”
Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”
Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”
“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.
“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.
“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”
Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.
Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”
They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.
Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”
Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”
“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”
Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”
Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”
Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”
It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”
“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.
Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”
Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”
Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.
----
The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.
Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.
“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.
“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.
Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.
Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.
Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”
“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.
Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.
“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”
Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.
The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.
Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.
“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”
Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.
“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”
Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”
Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.
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isitstraightvodka · 4 years ago
Text
Strip
in which gwil doesn't like you and it's your mission to find out why.
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pairing: gwilym lee x fem!reader
word count: 4.5k+
warnings: enemies to lovers, smut (the rough kind), oral (both m and f receiving), angst, swearing, alcohol use
a/n: hello my loves! i present to u what i have been working on for a while, it's filthy so read ahead w caution 😂😳 i really hope u enjoy it and please let me know if u do. any feedback, asks / rbs, would be much appreciated xx also gif credit is @mazzelloplots​ 💕
࿐ ࿔*:・゚.·:*¨༺
You had no idea what you'd done for Gwil to hate your guts but it must be dead serious because he just about didn't give you any attention whenever you were in the same room. It was infuriating, as each day passed, you racked your brain to remember if you'd done or said anything for him to act like this around you but as always, nothing came to mind. All you got was a cold stare, or no eye contact at all, and at the very least, a few sentences but that was it. It made it even worse that both of you were friends with Ben, after all that's how you were introduced to each other, you figured he'd be a good guy as was evident the first time you met, a regular mutual friend greeting; first handshake, small smiles and twinkling new eyes but ever since then, everything had changed.
Every time you went out and saw Gwil, he either said nothing to you but "Hi." or he'd rush off somewhere else the moment you approached him. The cold shoulder did not do anything for your confidence, you were a friendly person and loved meeting new people but this was something else entirely, the confusion soon turned to tension and anger, ripping at your hair during lonely nights in your apartment, thinking why doesn't he like me? Then you went to Ben who just shrugged and said he'd warm up to you eventually, which you found incredibly difficult to believe, you weren't having it, it had been almost half a year and no progress, you'd had enough, you had to confront him.
Your opportunity arose only a week later, during a party at Joe's house.  it made your muscles tense up knowing you were going to see Gwil, and it wasn't fair of him to give you this sort of treatment without a shred of explanation. Everything was in full-swing when you arrived by your lonesome, but you didn't waste no longer than ten minutes making your move, so there you were, drink in hand, when you cornered him talking to Lucy. Walking head held high, you approached them, and Lucy smiled when she noticed you, you shared a kiss on the cheek before exchanging respective compliments on each other's looks, then your attention went to him.
"Hey, can I talk to you?"
Both he and Lucy looked at you before the blonde nudged him with her arm, giving him a cool stare, as if to say, "Go sort this out", which was true since you and her had talked about the situation too, and her response was "It's between you and him, so get in there girl and stand up for yourself", and right now, tonight, you were going to heed her advice.
Gwil took a deep breath and walked next to you as you made your way to the nearest room, where it was quiet enough to talk, but the walk there seemed to stretch on for hours instead of a matter of seconds. You could feel the anxiety flooding through your body when his arm brushed your shoulder, you could tell he wasn't looking at you, his fingers gripping his wine glass a little too tight. Some sort of emotion hung between the two of you, you couldn't put your finger on it but it was something strong, something deep, Great another thing for you to be confused about. What you didn't know is that Gwil felt it too. 
After what felt like an age, you entered the guest bedroom, all neat and empty, leaving the impression nobody had stayed in there for a long time. Gwil had his free hand tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, standing by the door once he closed it, silencing the bustle of the party, but still didn't give you his attention. You took a deep breath and tapped your nail on the rim of your drink, allowing your heartbeat to decrease, opening the conversation very kindly.
"I believe there is something we have to discuss."
All he did was part his lips and take a swig of red wine, leaning back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. Not one word left his mouth, he didn't move an inch and it took a lot in you not to start raising your voice. Why does he not want to talk to you? What is up his ass? Fucking say something, you bastard! The tension in the room was too stifling for you to cope with so you spoke again, but harsher.
"Fuck, you should man up and talk to me like a decent bloke, I thought you would be."
And that's when he finally looked at you. Without even realising it, the suddenness of eye contact made shivers run down your spine, deep blue eyes staring into yours, brows furrowed in faint disgust.
"Hate to burst your bubble then, love."
More shivers, rippling throughout your bones so fast you were almost afraid he'd be able to notice you slightly trembling. His voice wasn't supposed to do that....but it did, from the way he said it, from the way you finally saw his eyes in clear view, how fucking hot he looked just standing there, how had you not noticed that before? Because his blind hatred of you clouded that fact. You shook the thoughts out of your head and stood your ground.
"I seriously have no clue why you been acting like this around me. I have been nothing but kind to you, I haven't said one bad word to you, I truly wanted us to be friends but you find an excuse to escape me every chance you get!"
Your cheeks flushed red once the words left your lips, your free hand scrunching up into a fist, nails digging into your palm. Gwil all but sighed and...was that a smirk you saw? No, just a trick of the lights. The point of his shoe tapped the carpet as he looked down at his half-empty glass, collecting his thoughts.
"Not a bad word? I heard you talking to Joe the other week, you called me a dickhead."
"I have every reason to, you barely talk to me. This is the most you've talked to me in weeks."
"If you have reasons, then I have them too."
"Fucking tell me then instead of practically ignoring me! It's childish."
"So I'm the child but you're the one yelling." He cocked an eyebrow, was that another smirk? He's got me so confused? Is that what he wants?
"How do you expect me to react? I haven't appreciated the cold shoulder, Gwilym."
"I don't appreciate you running your mouth."
"Could just tell me whatever reasons you have instead of this."
You and him went back forth, trying to fight each other but it didn't seem to do anything good, it only heightened the tension between you two but a specific kind of tension. One you knew now and one he managed to figured out seeing you in front of him, raising your voice. In this moment, he saw how attractive you were, more so than he already thought, your face heating up and your hair glowing from the muted lights, the dress hugging your body almost provocatively, silver diamonds hanging from your ears and cherry-coloured lips parted slightly between words. You were so sexy and the alcohol buzzing through him wasn't helping, but this was the reason for it all. He fancied you.
"Look, it's complicated." He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. You had to bite back a laugh, is he serious?
"No, it's not. Open your mouth and just tell me."
But it turns out he didn't need to open his mouth, at least not the way you expected him to. It happened swiftly, too fast for you to comprehend, all you really saw was his glass fall to the floor, wine staining the carpet, then he crossed the room over you within three strides, took your face in his hands and crushed his lips against yours.
Your eyes flew open in surprise at the sudden pressure of his kiss...his kiss? You could barely understand what was happening, he held onto you like he needed air to breathe, you could taste the wine on his tongue, it was intoxicating, it felt...nice but was the wine nice or the aggression of his mouth? Questions swirled your mind, it didn't help your emotions during this moment, you didn't realise your mouth had opened on its own which allowed him to slip his tongue in a little and close the gap between you again, the second kiss even harder and more passionate, the softest groan of relief and delight from him ringing in your ears. You almost let yourself fall under his spell before you caught yourself and made a muffled squeak, your hand finding his jacket and pushing him away from you, gasping for a breath.
"What the fuck, Gwil?"
Thoughts circled your head, words bouncing off the walls, your hand brushing over your bottom lip, the gloss transferring to your skin as it had done on his lips, stained and shiny, you were surprised you were still holding your wine glass. He cocked an eyebrow at you as heat rose to his cheeks, he raised his hand almost as if he was apologising but you stopped him, holding up your own hand and shaking your head.
"What was that?"
"I...I kissed you."
"No shit Sherlock! Why? How is that supposed to explain anything?"
"I'm- I..." He couldn't seem to find the right words, he hesitated reaching his hand out further before deciding against it and pushing it back through his hair. You gulped, why is it so hot when he does that? You were so glad he couldn't read your mind right now, if he had heard what you just said, you sure would wish for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
"You think a kiss is going to solve everything? I'm not some plastic doll for you to play around with however you please."
"I..I know, I just..."
"Just what? I thought you'd tell me with words, I though-"
"Oh for fuck's sake, I like you, okay?"
His pupils were blown wide as much as yours when he half-yelled the words and this time you were sure the glass was going to slip through your fingers but it still didn't, in fact you had a right mind to just down the whole thing after what he told you. You thought he didn't like you...he liked you? If you were confused before, then you were even more now, your hand fell to your side as you stared at him, eyes like glass, you couldn't even blink. Gwil's gaze had turned to the floor, pretending to be interested in the pale white carpet, his fingers moving to the back of his neck where sweat began to form. He waited for you to speak, the seconds ticked by painfully, it felt so long before you said anything.
"You...like me?" You gulped, trying to process his revelation. He chewed on his bottom lip and tucked both hands back into his pocket, nodding as his eyes flicked over to you.
"Yeah, I do, I like you. A lot."
His voice seemed fearful, anxious but with an underlying desperation, like that of a teenager admitting a big brush, it was rather cute in your eyes; first hot now cute? How can he be both? Stop it, stop questioning everything. You cursed yourself, fingers wrapped around your glass harder you thought it might crack. Instead of replying, you drained the wine, it was the only thing you could think of doing. Gwil watched as your throat moved, as you swallowed, he shuddered and prayed he wasn't showing through his pants, now wasn't the best time, especially with how you reacted. You sighed as the last drop fell into your mouth and rushed through your veins, you finally let the glass fall from your grasp and land with a small thud on the carpet. Your fingers came together in front of you, interlacing as you twiddled your thumbs, eyelids fluttering as you collected your thoughts, one deep breath and you looked at him.
"I don't understand. You like me, but you have been acting like you hate me, why do that?"
Gwil didn't answer right away, he fidgeted, hands still in his pockets, his vision now turning to eye the golden lamp on the bedside table. In this light, you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the deepest blue, like a calm ocean, like a pair of warm sapphires, you found yourself not looking away. 
"I didn't mean to be that way, I was just afraid." He said, still not looking at you.
"Why afraid?"
"Of rejection. Of you already being taken. I didn't want to admit anything if I had no chance with you." He confessed, raising one hand out of his pocket to massage his neck, your eyes locked to his fingers, wondering what they'd feel like around your ne- Cut it out! You banished your dirty thought and continued the talk.
"The worst I could say is no, and I'd mean it without any offense. And I'm not taken, I think you'd know if I was."
"That's the thing, I thought you were!"
"How did you come to that conclusion?" You peered at him. He sighed and scratched his beard, stubble littering his cheeks and chin, and right then, another X-rated thought entered your brain, You wonder what that would feel like between your legs...will it tickle? Itch? Arouse you? You think you wanted to know.
"Because you and Ben, and I...didn't want to get in the way"
You and Ben? You gave him a perplexed look as you tried to work out what your friend had got to do with any of this. Ben was really a great guy, you enjoyed his company, years of friendship had blossomed between him and you, and you loved being able to see him when he wasn't busy with his star-studded career, but there wasn't anything there to insinuate something more was happening between you two. 
Then it hit you.
"You thought that Ben...and me...that we...? Oh god no we're just friends!"
You bit back a giggle. Ben was easy on the eyes, anyone could see that, even Joe said it, multiple times, many conversation he'd told you, "That fucker's stupidly gorgeous isn't he?" but he was not your type. He was more like a brother to you than anything else. Sure there was the occasional kiss on the cheek, hugs a little longer than usual, his arm around your waist or ruffling your hair when you told a stupid joke, but friends did that, they could do that without having feelings for each other. Gwil almost lost his balance after what you said, Just friends...Just friends...
"Are you sure? I mean he's the pretty boy."
"Okay he's pretty but he is like family to me, I wouldn't hit that even if I was piss drunk." 
Your mouth curled at the corners, as did his and both of you shared  a small laugh. Your eyes fell upon the empty wine glass on the floor, teeth tugging at your lower lip; you could see Gwil's body shift a little closer, one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before you, chests almost touching. His fingers stroked your jaw, moving underneath your chin to bring your gaze up to his face. He looked...intense but still had a softness behind his eyes, something sweet and hesitant but at the same time, you could feel he wanted to continue the kiss he gave only minutes ago.
"So...no Ben?"
You rested your hand on his wrist, giving him a smile as your eyes went from his to his lips, mouth watering at the memory of them on yours.
"No Ben."
࿐ ࿔*:・゚.·:*¨༺
"Gwil..."
His name was like chocolate on your tongue, as his tongue worked over and against your slick folds. One hand in his hair and the other curled behind your head, back arching with every hum he made against you, his mouth was insane, you hadn't felt such pleasure in god knows how long; he really knew what he was doing.  And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did, smiling as he pressed kisses to your swollen clit, groaning with each flick and lick, with each tug you made on his hair, and that mixed with the feeling of his stubble rubbing your inner thighs and right above your mound as he angled his lips in the most delightful of ways. 
You were getting closer, you could almost taste it, feel it....but he stopped and raised his face from between your legs, his arms still wrapped around your flushed thighs. His mouth was wet, his hair in disarray and his eyes dilated; he looked fucking hot, but right now, you wanted to scream at him for stopping it right when you were about to finish. He could see you were almost angry at how suddenly he pulled away from your heat, he stroked the curve of your left breast as he began to lay down next to you, his free hand resting over his mouth.
"Come sit here."
It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant, your breath got caught in your throat, slowly blinking at him in surprise.
"Are you...are you sure?"
"Yes, you're so beautiful, I'd love nothing more than for you to ride my tongue."
You certainly did not expect something so foul to come out of his mouth but fuck you loved it. A smile grew on your face as you sat up, as he brought his hands to your hips just as you were about to face the headboard, he pushed you in the other direction a tad.
"Sit the other way, baby."
Your cheeks became hot and you were almost embarrassed at how flustered a simple petname made you. You gasped as you got into position, his nose right there against you and in your line of eyesight was his sweaty body, his happy trail disappearing into his jeans, and through those, a bulge was unmistakable.
You'd made him hard and you hadn't done anything but kiss him, you giggled at the reality of it, the embarrassment fading into smugness. Gwil moved his hands over your thighs, giving one of them a slap and you yelped in shock.
"What are you laughing about, huh?"
You bit your lip as you answered.
"You're hard."
"O'course I fucking am. Eating you out did that to me, hell you make me hard just by looking at me." He murmured on you, and before you could say anything, his tongue was back on you, licking back and forth, covering the length of your heat, he didn't leave one spot untouched by his tongue. Moans flew out of your mouth, sweat beading on your skin as he switched between his lips and his tongue, going so far as to telling you to bounce, and doing that was one hell of an experience. You leaned forward and raised your hips so you could move more, his tongue stuck out flat so you could feel it inside you, warming you up, stretching you out, he really cared about making you feel good and giving you the best feeling before you reached your high.
Your hands latched onto the belt around his jeans, curled over his body, grinding over his mouth, his facial hair once again giving you that cherry on top, his growls of hunger and delight pushing you over the edge. One palm slapped your ass cheeks, his name flowing from your lips again.
"Cum for me, cum on my face, sweet girl."
And you did just that, body shaking as you rode out your orgasm on his face, his lips never detaching from your clit, intending to make you have the most explosive high, and it sure felt like that. Your toes and fingers were on fire, your heart shot through the roof and you had trouble catching your breath as he lapped you up, "Mm you taste so good", another slap to your ass, chuckling against your heat, nose bumping on your clit, making you whimper a little given how sensitive you were. You slowly sat up and ran a hand through your damp hair, laughing through deep breathes.
"Fuck, you're amazing at that."
"Thought I wouldn't be?" You could feel his smirk beneath you.
"No no, just...wow."
Gwil smirked wider and gave your clit one last kiss, your eyes back on the even-harder bulge in his jeans. He'd just made you feel incredible. You wanted to do the same to him. So instead of moving from your position, you simply leaned down over his toned chest and started unbuckling his belt.
"Oh I see someone's hungry too." He laughed, hands resting on your red ass. Something came over you, the sexual side of you suddenly arose and within seconds, his belt was off and you were pulling his jeans down. He gave you some help by lifting his hips, you pushed them down to his knees and now you could see how hard he actually was, almost bursting to be released from the prison of his boxers. You didn't want to keep him waiting, you giggled and tucked your fingers into them, and pushed them down to join his jeans, more giggles spilling out when you got the first proper look at his cock.
The tip was pink, precum already forming, he was thick, very girthy, bigger than you thought but still you weren't that surprised. You slipped your fingers around him and gripped him and he hissed, his breath hot on your cunt. You smiled to yourself and pumped him a few times, relishing how warm and hard he was in your hand, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the veins, satisfied with your work, you puckered your lips and wrapped them around the head of his cock, and the noise he made was so fucking sexy, the sweetest groan and the hottest whine.
"Holy shit..."
You concentrated on where you sucked and moved your mouth, your hand tight around the base of his shaft. From previous experiences, you knew lubricant of any kind worked a treat, so you took a moment to pull your lips off and spit over the head, gently rubbing wetness all over his length; that got him considering the deep moans he was making right against your clit. Feeling his mouth so close to you while you sucked him off made you powerful, like you had him in your corner, it was your turn to give him pleasure and in his hand, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. 
When his eyes were open, they were on your cunt, fucking you with his vision, his hands moving from your ass to your hips to your upper thighs, gripping your skin as his own hips started to move with your mouth and before long, Gwil was fucking your mouth. You choked and whimpered around his cock, delicious sounds from his perspective, leaving marks on your ass from how hard he was holding you.
"Your mouth's so warm and tight fuck baby I-"
His words encouraged you to do more, fingers away from his cock and moving to his balls, you grabbed one and he let out a cry of delight, jerking his hips up faster until your eyes started to water; it burned but it was a good burn, making Gwil feel this way made you feel good, pleasing him made you feel good. As you squeezed his balls, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, neck craned all the way back over the pillow, his toes curling over the end of the bed. Your own thighs started to shake and your throat tightened around him, and he lost his hand.
"Just like that, yeah."
And with your mouth around him and your fingers gripping his balls, he finished, quicker than you thought; it wasn't even three minutes and you tasted hot thickness, his cum, him. You gagged a little as you removed your lips softly like sucking a lollipop, strings of your saliva dripping from his cock. You gasped and swallowed; you never spat out, it was a rule you gave yourself, what a waste it would be to spit, especially after sucking Gwil off, and speaking of him, his breath was heavy and fast, chest puffing in and out as he came down from his high, eyes glittering and a cheesy grin on his face.
"You're amazing at that."
All you could do was giggle and say, "I know."
࿐ ࿔*:・゚.·:*¨༺
He was buried deep inside your walls, stretching out every inch and corner of you, the strokes of his cock were heavenly, easily hitting your g-spot over and over again. Your legs were wrapped high around his waist, ankles crossed over, nails digging into his back and dragging down his spine, one of his hands gripping the headboard and the other on your thigh, keeping you in place as he fucked you raw.
"Gwil, Gwil...please.." 
"Please what? What do you want?" He grunted between thrusts. Tears burned your lids as your hips smashed with his, lips inches away from his, his warm breath setting your face alight.
"Please...I want to cum, I want us to cum together..."
"Oh fuck.."
The way he moved got harder, faster, more aggressive to the point where your legs were turning into jelly and all you could feel was his stiff cock, you could not even get a proper sentence out anymore, if you did, it was laced with high whines. As his body meshed with your own, your eyes glanced at his arm, where his hand held onto the headboard with so much force you wondered why it hadn't broken. You felt yourself melt into the bed at the sight of his bicep, skin wrapped thin around the muscles, a sheen of sweat coating over his arm, more sweat on his forehead and at the back of his neck, face dipping close to your jaw, the air humid between the two of you.
"I'm gonna cum, shit- but I'm not wear-"
"I'm..on the p-p-pill, cum in me, Gwil." You gripped at him, pulling his chest closer, clenching your cunt around him, desperate for him to finish. The "fucking hell" told you he was only seconds away and sure enough, you felt it, you felt his orgasm, how his cock pulsated inside you, even better inside you than in your mouth and you followed barely a minute after when he was still riding out his high, your back off the bed and your legs trembling around him, harsh scratches left deep in his back because of you. 
Gwil collapsed on top of you, your fingers finding their way into his sweaty hair, as he slowly pulled out of you, the remnants of what you'd just did together dripping down your thigh, something he found extremely attractive. He attached his lips to yours in a passionate sweet kiss, as if you two hadn't just fucked each other's brains out, smiling as he broke the kiss and pressed another to your nose.
"Didn't think this would happen coming here tonight." He guffawed, rolling off you to get comfortable beside you. Like second nature, you curled up into him, your arm draped over his chest and his over your shoulders, sheets askew down to his waist as well as yours; to the both of you, cuddling after sex was as special as the act of sex itself.
"Neither did I...but I like that it happened." You smiled up at him. His fingers stroked your hair, his lips against the top of your head.
"Yeah? Me too."
You and Gwil stayed there, having cuddle time and striking up a conversation about what this meant for your relationship; you liked him and he liked you but for right now, it was agreed upon that the sex was great and that's what it would be, unless deeper feelings crept in. Time was lost, you felt safe with him, his hand in your hair as you traced patterns on his skin, but as much as you loved having this, you knew you couldn't stay here all night.
"We should get back. Everyone will be wondering where we are." You sat up and gathered the sheets up to your chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Gwil joined you and rubbed the back of his neck.
"You're right about that, let's go, love." He said, and just as he was about to get out of the bed, there was a knock at the door followed by a very familiar American accent.
"I don't know what's happening in there but if you two are done defiling MY guest bedroom, you'd better come out and watch Ben do Jell-O shots off me." 
You burst out laughing and your head fell into Gwil's neck at Joe's statement, he chuckled along with you and sighed deeply, eyebrows raised; he didn't want to leave this room either, not with having you in the bed, gloriously naked and beautiful. But still, the two of you had to rejoin the party. He kissed your temple and rubbed your shoulder as giggles slipped through your lips, he couldn't help but smile even wider at the sound of your laughter.
"Well well we can't miss that, can we?"
taglist: @rhapsodyrecs​ / @bens-jawline​ / @itsametaphorgwil​ / @queen-paladin​ / @joeneslee​ / @almightygwil​ / @deacyblues​ / @zyanmaik​ / @hermajestyborhap​ / @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ / @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​ / @grigorlee​ / @captvinswaan​ / @taliaphobia​ / @gwil-lee​ / @hannafuckingsucks​ / @benders-diamond-earring​ / @supersonicfreddie​
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amethyst-crystalfly · 4 years ago
Text
The stars in your eyes
Pairing| Akaashi Keiji x f! reader
Themes| fluff, tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, just lots of fluff okay?
Warning| nope none except for Akaashi being adorable
Authour’s note| Hi guys I absolutely enjoyed myself writing this pic as Akaashi Keiji occupies my whole heart. I just really think that Akaashi is the kind of guy who would take you on a classy candle lit dinner as a first date considering the kind of personality he radiates. He would absolutely plan for it days in advance and make sure everything is perfect. He is also the guy your mom would approve of and is basically the ideal guy who also secretly happens to be a hopeless romantic at heart. So here I offer you exactly that through this fic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Thank you for reading! I love youu!
w/c| 2293
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The night was clear and the soft late winter wind gently flowed in through your open windows. You had been anticipating for this day. You smiled at your reflection as you finished brushing your hair, satisfied with your outfit, you thought back to the day, just a week ago, when your long-time crush Akaashi finally asked you out on a date.  "Wow this was really happening" you longingly wondered. “Y/n! Akaashi is here to pick you, honey” you heard your mom call. You took a deep breath, checked your reflection for one last time, grabbed your purse and phone and rushed out to meet him. As you stepped in the hallway, you saw your mom talking with him. He had a soft smile on his face as he was telling your mom about college. As he sensed you approaching, he looked up and as your eyes met, he seemed to freeze. You held your breath as he stood up, you offered him a warm smile and at that a blush tinted the tip of his ears and his cheeks. Your mom smiled at the two of you and wished you two a fun date as she decided to head to the other room, giving the two of you some privacy.
You greeted him with a soft yet enthusiastic “hi!”
“Hello, you- “he inhaled as his eyes swept over you once again ��you look beautiful y/n”
“You are one to talk Akaashi” you chuckled softly
That earned you a laugh from him, “I am humbled” he said making a casually bowing gesture. “shall we?” he offered his arm with a warm smile.
You happily nodded and looped your arm through his as you both walked out of the door together. You were dressed in a wine-red gown with a thigh high slit on one side and paired it with black heels. You accessorized this outfit with a pair of simple crystal studded ear rings and a matching crystal pendant. Your open hair complemented your outfit perfectly. Beside you, Akaashi was dressed in a white shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up till his fore arms, giving you a peek at those sculpted arms. His pair of black casual trousers and his silver analog watch tied off his look perfectly. It was so simple yet elegant and classy. His style spoke of his personality perfectly. You both got in the car and headed towards the restaurant Akaashi had already planned on in advance, but of course he had finalized it only after discussing with you, he needed to make sure if you would like it too. However, if you were being honest, you would happily go anywhere this man goes, it didn’t matter where. But for obvious reasons you haven’t told him that, yet. The drive to the restaurant was about 30 mins and you both fully enjoyed those 30 minutes blissfully enjoying each other’s company and taking turns playing your favorite songs for the other. As you got off the car, you looked around admiringly to the tasteful decoration. Akaashi offered you his arm once again and you both made your way towards the reception. He had reserved a seat for the two of you in advance, the waiter led the way to your seats. It was situated beside the window? Wall? You couldn’t decide what to call it since the entire wall was made of glass. It was exquisite! it offered a wonderful view of the city considering that this hotel was situated atop a hill. The place was lit with warm yellow lights and candles, creating a perfect balance of shadows and soft lights. The tables were arranged spaciously providing each group/couple with privacy. The entire place smelled faintly of French vanilla thanks to the scented candles. The entire place appealed to you aesthetically, you really liked it. Akaashi pulled out your chair for you and helped you in. You found that small gesture extremely touching, “damn chivalry ain’t ded” you thought to yourself and suppressed a giggle at your own lame inside joke.
“You are really sweet Akaashi” you told him letting that giggle out
A waitress brought your orders to the table along with a bottle of red wine. She filled both your glasses with the crimson liquid. You both thanked her politely and she smiled and left. The delicious smell of the platter wafted to your nose and it made you realize just how eager you were to dig in but you hesitated, you did not want to do anything awkward it was your first date with Akaashi after all.
It made him blush. It wasn’t just your words that got to him but he was spell bounded by the way the candle light looked on you. The light bounced off your crystal ear rings occasionally when you moved your head. In his eyes you were the most beautiful woman out there. The way a slight blush tinted your features warmed his heart and made a soft smile bloom on his lips. As you looked at him, you were mesmerized by the way the candle light shimmered in his eyes, he looked as if he was sculpted out of alabaster by the renowned ancient Greek artists themselves. He looked so gorgeous that it made you want to be all cheesy, if he kept acting so cute heck you might end up throwing some cheesy ass pick up lines at him.
“Are you shy, Y/n?” Akaashi softly chucked teasing you
“huh-what? No! absolutely not, why would I be shy” you quickly spoke, an embarrassed blush spreading across your face.
He laughed some more, taking a small bite from his plate he casually teased, “Then why aren’t you eating, you must be shy”
You puffed your cheeks, “I am not shy” and you finally picked up a piece of the delicious food with your fork and nibbled on it.
Akaashi let out another soft laugh at your cute expression. He couldn’t resist himself as he extended his left arm adoringly and gently pulled your cheek “You are so adorable, y/n”
“Hmph but I am not shy” you grumbled out, even though your heart was practically doing cartwheels at his words of adoration.
He laughed again pulling away and getting back to his own food. You had never seen Akaashi laughing so much and be so much at ease. He was usually more composed and careful with his words this was a peek at another side of Akaashi. You could just watch him laugh and joke like this all day and be satisfied. You both took little sips of the red wine as you continued eating and talking about various topics. Conversation with Akaashi was easy and fluid, none of you had to put any effort in it, it flowed swiftly from one topic to another. All your reservations were just falling apart watching him be himself with you so easily. It made your heart soar. You both had had two servings of wine each, by the time you finished your dinner. It gave you a slightly heady feeling. As you waited for the bill you both looked out at the massive glass windows. The glistening city lights looked like little fairy orbs scattered all over the city. It was surprising that you hadn’t noticed it earlier in the evening. Maybe you were far too absorbed in Akaashi to notice.
“The city looks beautiful at night doesn’t it?” Akaashi said noticing your awed expression
“Yes, it does, it is as if someone dropped the stars from the heaven” you giggled
He looked at you with slightly dazed eyes and a soft smile illuminating his handsome face, “then you will definitely like the next place I will take you to”
“next place?” you asked turning your face towards him
“Yes, you thought I am gonna let you go so easily? He laughed
“I like the idea of that” you said
“of what?” he enquired
You said it out almost instinctively, “of you not letting me go easily” your face heated as you realized what you just said. And you cleared your throat, “we…umm-we should go”
He looked at you sidelong with an amused smile as you both stood up and prepared to leave. You dared not meet his gaze. You cursed yourself internally, “damnit y/n what are you doing? Now he is gonna think I am a complete weirdo”
As you both existed the lavish hotel the late winter breeze greeted you. The temperature had dropped comparatively. Akaashi moved closer to you and placed a hand around your waist. You did not know this but a smile still lingered on his face from your words. It had made his heart skip and he wanted to kiss you right there and tell you that he did not plan on letting go of you at all. But he resisted himself from doing that since you were in public. As you both reached the car, he opened the door and pulled out his coat from the backseat of the car and swiftly draped it around you.  
“I thought we might need this” he smiled “come let me show you to the place I promised” he led you by your hand.
Your heart was basically hammering in your chest when he draped the coat around you from how close he was. Desire burned through you to just reach up and kiss him. But you shut it out focusing instead on Akaashi’s words. He was telling you how he had come here a few days back to make reservation in person and that’s when he spotted this place. He led you through a path behind the hotel. It was a winding path and was lit with beautiful tall lamp posts, illuminating the road in it’s golden light. It was a ten-minute walk and you found yourself standing at the top of the little hill. The edges were guarded off with railings and. There were trees skirting the edge of the hill and they continued down the hill in rows. As you approached the railings you were spell bounded by the view it offered. The top of the hill was dimly lit compared to the path which led you here. And that was to ensure a clear view of the night sky. The stars twinkled above you just like the city lights glowed beneath. It was absolutely beautiful. The air was filled with the scent of the trees around, a dewy forest like smell. Little fireflies twinkled in the distance among the trees. It was captivating you turned to look at Akaashi and realized he was already staring at you. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth he looked away smiling at being caught. That made your smile spread wider.
You shuffled closer to his side and said “This place is beautiful Akaashi! Thank you for bringing me here”
He looked down at you and said with a smile, “Thank you for agreeing to come with me y/n, I haven’t felt so happy and at ease in a long time”
The closeness with Akaashi already made it so hard to resist yourself and he was just making this harder by being so sweet. You were feeling bold suddenly, was it the wine? Or was it just Akaashi working his charm without even being aware? Either ways you turned to face him fully and looped your arms around his neck and pulled your body closer, the coat falling off your shoulders, but you didn’t care, not right now as you gazed into Akaashi’s surprised eyes. His lips were parted in surprise at your sudden change in behavior, his hands were on your waist. And he looked absolutely irresistible. His desire was evident in his eyes. You reached up slowly and your lips were dangerously close, almost brushing. You could smell his citrus cologne up so close and you wanted nothing more than to be lost in it. His breathing was as heavy as yours as his arms tightened around your waist and you trailed your one hand down his shoulder and up his neck to cup the side of his face. He could not resist himself anymore as he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you. It was a light kiss at first,soft, sweet and careful. You both momentarily pulled away to look into each other’s eyes
“kiss me again Akaashi” you said through your ragged breathing. Looking straight into his eyes.
He did not falter a moment before kissing you passionately, His hands on your back pulling you closer towards him almost lifting you off your feet as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And to be honest he couldn’t, and neither could you. Your one hand stayed around his neck, massaging the nape of his neck and your other hand was tangled in his soft hair. You moaned into the kiss as his one hand snaked up your back to your neck. And that made him groan at how much he loved that soft sound that left you. When you two finally pulled apart both of you were gasping for air and your faces were red. As your eyes met you both let out a laugh at disbelief of what just happened. And you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest listening to the sound of his galloping heart. It was beating as fast as yours. He rested his chin on top your head and left out a content sigh.
“hey y/n”
“umhmm?” you asked, happily watching the city lights twinkle below
“I really don’t plan on letting you go”
“Neither do I, Akaashi” you said snuggling closer to him.
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lilibetts · 5 years ago
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Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!
(Part 2/3, Theme 1)
Betty was going to delete LoveAlarm from her phone.
She should have deleted LoveAlarm off her phone.
But come Wednesday afternoon, she still hasn’t, and she couldn’t have told you why. A glutton for punishment, probably.
>>No, you’re just a hopeful romantic! Veronica texts her while she’s in the library during study hall, working on an English essay.  >>The app is all about proximity. You don’t know who you simply haven’t been within twenty feet of yet. Or maybe they just haven’t downloaded the app.
Maybe so, yet Betty can’t help but feel like there is a fine line between hopeful and masochistic. She wants to text Veronica back with a passive-aggressive message about how Veronica has it easy with a bunch of pings and *at least* two people around the school who love her. But she doesn’t because that would be shitty.
The point is, LoveAlarm is still on her phone and she’s doing her best to forget all about it and her unexpectedly complicated feelings about Archie. That’s when it happens: she feels her phone buzzing across the wood table.
Frowning, she checks it, assuming it’s Veronica with more encouraging platitudes. Betty can scarcely believe what she sees, however:
1.
Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!
The red heart on her screen is practically vibrating off the phone as she watches in shock. Her eyes dart up and around, landing on every face surrounding her. There has to be what, twelve people in the library that could be within twenty feet of her? It’s a popular location for study hall, after all. 
Someone is in love with her.
Was it Trev? Chuck? Sweet Pea? Alex C.? Tyler? Dilton? Of course it occurs to Betty that it could be a girl, but she isn’t up to date on who’s Out and who Veronica and Kevin are convinced are closeted. It definitely isn’t Ethel Muggs, who has started scowling at her every chance she gets lately.
The number on her phone goes back down to zero, so either the person turned their phone off or they just left her radius. Another frantic glance around only shows her the front doors swinging shut. Frowning, Betty realizes that Sweet Pea is no longer in the library and Trev has gotten up and walked over to a shelf in the back. Nobody seems to be doing anything with their phone.
Biting her lip, Betty considers her options, but there’s really only one solution.
                       *********************************************************
Jughead is in the Blue & Gold, fingers clacking away at the typewriter Betty had gotten him for his 16th birthday, Sweet Pea’s teasing words echoing in his ears, when said Hitchcock blonde comes bursting into the room.
“Juggie!” she exclaims a little breathlessly. She has one of those determined grins on her face that make his heart go pitter-patter. 
Thankfully, his phone is off, so it can’t tell on him.
“I need your help.” She drags another chair up to his desk and sits down primly, spine straight and ankles crossed. /If you have the time./
/Of course. What’s up?/
Betty hesitates then, biting her lip. /I downloaded LoveAlarm,/ she says finally, arms and voice tentative. /Someone pinged it in the library earlier and I want you to help me find out who./ With that, Betty slaps down a piece of paper with a list of names on it. Jughead swallows hard.
He’s not an absolute moron, he did expect this. When presented with an unknown suitor, of course Betty Cooper would immediately start to investigate. 
He could just tell her, but again, vulnerability is scary. As Tim Kreider wrote, “If you want to enjoy the rewards of being loved, you also have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” It’s a certainty that she’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe he’s being a coward, but hey, Betty *loves* solving mysteries.  
Jughead doesn’t expect her love in return, he’s just flattered that he was the first one she thought of to help her figure out who pinged her LoveAlarm.
/Why are Sweet Pea and Trev’s names starred?/
/They left my radius around the same time my LoveAlarm went from 1 to 0./
When Jughead had decided to sneak into the library earlier and make her phone ping while he hid in the stacks behind her, he had been counting on the other students around her as cover but now, seeing that she’s zeroed in on two guys in particular has a pit opening up in his stomach.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Jones. Just tell her,” Sweet Pea had told him.
His hands feel clunky as he tries to sign. /And if it’s one of them, how would you feel?/
The question stymies Betty, who shakes her head and shrugs, gathering up her things. /I don’t know. Let’s just figure out who it is and I’ll figure out how I feel then./
“Okay,” Jughead ends up saying to her retreating back.
Thursday is simultaneously the most fun and the most torturous. In the morning, Jughead finds himself helping Betty stalk Sweet Pea down G Hallway, chatting him up to stall him near the Chem classrooms and surreptitiously waving her over once he ascertains that Sweet Pea has his phone out and turned on. 
“Hey, Sweet Pea!” 
Betty practically bounces as she comes to a stop next to him, eyes bright but biting her lip nervously. She’s balancing a 13”x9” tupperware container in her arms, and her phone is in her left hand, turned away from them so they can’t see LoveAlarm open on the screen.
Of course Jughead turned his own off as soon as he arrived at school. What do you think he is? An amateur?
“'Sup, Coop?” Sweet Pea doesn’t know a lot of sign language, but he smiles down at her easily. Jughead is overwhelmed by a sudden urge to kick him in the shin. “Are those for me?” Sweet Pea approximates sign with some basic pointing from the cupcakes in the tupperware container before pointing at himself.
“Uh…” Betty’s sneaking a glance at her phone and for a moment, Jughead is worried. “Yes, you can have one. They’re Boston Cream Pie cupcakes.” 
He groans on the inside. Those are his favorite.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Sweet Pea murmurs, grabbing one and peeling away the liner so he can take a bite.
This time, Jughead’s groan may have been audible.
Betty catches Jughead’s eye and shakes her head. Great, that’s one name scratched off their list. To Sweet Pea, she says: “I better be off, or I’ll be late. Bye, guys!” 
Jughead watches her leave, ponytail swishing from side to side. Sweet Pea watches him watch her leave for a moment before he clears his throat.
“Listen, Jones, I don’t mean to rush you and all, but...having a cute girl come up to you all smiles and offering you a cupcake—a damn delicious cupcake at that—might make a guy catch feelings. Just saying.” With that, Sweet Pea takes another bite of the cupcake, getting chocolate icing smeared all around his lips. Every chew he takes seems like a threat. A helpful threat.
“Lima Charlie,” Jughead sighs. Message received and understood. Sweet Pea’s older brother had been in the army and thus, he and Jughead had spent years using military jargon over walkie talkies as they snuck around Sunnyside. With a nod, Sweet Pea gives him an unnecessarily hard pat on the back and heads down the hallway.
When Jughead ducks into the Blue & Gold in between the next classes, he sees the tupperware container on his desk, next to his typewriter, a sticky note on top:
The rest are yours! I made your favorites, after all. -B
God I love you, Betty Cooper.
Lunchtime is nearly a disaster. Betty had roped the two of them into helping the Theater Club finish some set decoration for a production of Almost, Maine. All for nothing, because as it turns out, Trev is out for a dentist appointment. Still, Jughead manages to have fun being half-heartedly helpful while he eats his lunch—two ham sandwiches Betty brought in for him as a bribe for helping her with this—and Betty’s having a good time too, as evidenced by the fact she’s smiling so hard her eyes crinkle, and even when she tries to scrunch up her face to be mad at him eating more than painting, it just collapses into another giggling fit.
It’s when lunch is over and they’re heading up the aisle to where they’d left their things that Jughead remembers he left his phone on. Betty has hers with her, since she thought she would be testing Trevor’s phone for pings, and she’s barely five feet behind him.
Crap.
He hurries ahead and grabs it, depressing the power button. Just before the screen goes black, he could have sworn he saw his LoveAlarm app begin to open.
He doesn’t let himself think anything of it. In the rush, his thumb had probably hit the app button.
                  **************************************************************
Thursday night finds Betty pondering the mystery that still remains: the identity of the person who loves her. Sweet Pea has been eliminated from the list of possibilities, but Trev Brown remains a question mark. 
Curled up in her thick socks and comfiest sweatpants, hair wet from her shower and starting to curl, Betty stares at her laptop screen as she contemplates their next step. Her and Jughead had bonded over their mutual love of The Baxter Brothers and Tracy True books as children, and they’d conducted more than one investigation together over the years, so it’s natural that Betty had gone to him for help with this, even if it’s a little embarrassing.
But why, a niggling little voice asks at the back of her mind. Jughead’s question comes back to her: what will she do if it’s Trev? She doesn’t know. 
Trev’s...nice. He’s cute, and smart, and Betty doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’d do with the knowledge that he’s in love with her. Go on a date with him, she supposes, to at least see whether there is something there before she...breaks his heart? That’s what you do, right? You go to dinner at one of the few nicer restaurants in town or you go see a movie at the Bijou.
She doesn’t really want to think about this, Betty realizes, as her attention wanders from her Sleuthster search results to the ads along the column on the right. One ad catches her eye and she gasps, straightening in her chair and grabbing her phone. Her thumbs fly over the keys as before she hits [send].
<<Do you still have the reels for Rear Window?
>>Yes, why?
<<We should set the projector up in my basement and watch it this weekend. I’ll supply the snacks.
>>Capital idea, Betts, but how are you going to get all that junk food past the K9-level olfactory senses of Alice Cooper?
<<It just so happens that my mom and dad are going to visit Polly in Boston this weekend.
>>Cambridge. Just say Cambridge.
<<As long as we dispose of the evidence and air out the basement with some Febreeze, mom will be none the wiser. I’m sure Archie will donate his trash bin to the cause.
There’s a longer pause before Jughead replies.
>>It’s a   plan
>>Speaking of plans, what do you need me to do tomorrow re: Mission Pings?
Betty grins and taps out the basic framework of how they’re going to corner Trev before the pizza party at lunch, but Jughead will have her phone on him so he can feel for her ping, and listen for Trev’s ping. A thought occurs to her and Betty suddenly feels selfish for insisting that Jug help her.
<<I meant to ask you...have you downloaded LoveAlarm?
>>What do you think?
>>Besides, I already know what it would say.
A terrible feeling, like a vise in her chest, takes her over as she reads and re-reads those words. How can Jughead believe this? Almost immediately on the heels of that thought is the reminder that Betty herself had been despondent on Tuesday when she allowed the melodramatic thought  that ‘nobody was going to ever love her’ to take hold.
<<That’s bullshit. Any girl would be lucky to fall in love with you!
She means her words. Jughead may be antisocial, he may wear that crown beanie practically all the time, and okay, yes he can be the most extra fucking weirdo on the planet...but he’s also clever and passionate, she’s seen firsthand how caring and considerate he can be, and of course he’s objectively attractive. 
Betty stares at the window that faces the Andrews’ home, with the roller shades that are always pulled down lately, and pictures Jughead’s face in her mind, how he’s a bit on the pretty side, especially with that mouth. She thinks about how jealous she’s been of that wild head of dark hair in the past, when she’s seen him with the hat off, and how over the past year he’s shot up another inch or two and seems to have filled out, especially in the arms—
>>From your thumbs to God’s ears, Betts. Night, I’ve gotta be up bright and early to help you catch the worm.
She lets out a huff of laughter and rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see her.
<<Night, Juggie.
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ravenvsfox · 8 years ago
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Can you make a couples post about Kevin and thea please make it up as you go along if you have to, please. I love your writing and ideas.
thank you lovely, i’ll try my best bc they’re so good
SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…
who is more likely to hurt the other?
I think kevin is an ~idiot and he’d probably say something thoughtless about Thea’s form 
I also think that he canonically abandoned her without a single fucking word when he left the ravens and that a lot of her anger after that comes from hurt
I think they’re both pretty damaged and susceptible to hurt tbh, but kevin doesn’t seem to understand when he’s hurting people
who is emotionally stronger?
proooooobs thea I mean. she braved the nest and came out the other side with her head on straight. she did not for a second let kevin fuckin day get to her. she’s still soft on the inside, and exy’s become kind of a coping mechanism in a lot of ways, but she’s less obviously fucked up by the moriyamas then kevin is (simply bc she was less important to them yikes)
who is physically stronger?
THEA BOYYYYY this isn’t even up for debate!!!!! neil describes her as being built like a tank, she’s an unstoppable fucking powerhouse on the court, we’re talking serena williams’ body type, just like.. immovable and gorgeous. kevin is so shaken he’s in love w her muscles..... he wants to be knocked to the fucking floor by her....... she fires a ball into his helmet so hard that it cracks and he pops a boner
who is more likely to break a bone? 
hilarious im gonna say the boy w the infamously broken hand 
who knows best what to say to upset the other? 
good question I have no fucking clue they can both be dicks if the situation calls for it
I’m going to say that thea knows what to say to give kevin mad cold shoulder and she can smoke him out in a SECOND if he’s being a dick like she knows when to ignore him and when to back him into a corner
but kevin tends to be unnecessarily rude more often. he’s mean bc he knows that it gets results. thea does not tolerate him bringing this attitude home w him
who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? 
neither? bitch?? if both of them believe they’re right there are gonna be exactly zero (0) sorry’s
I do think they’re probably softer w each other when they’re one on one and I’d be willing to bet that their arguments end with kevin explaining things to death and thea listening and narrowing her eyes a lot and holding the front of his shirt bc she’s mad but she still wants contact and they kiss and make up w out actually ever saying the words
who treats who’s wounds more often? 
I think in the nest you’ve gotta take care of each other, so they both learn to sit the other down and hold gentle hands to the injured person’s sternum to keep them down, and they sit and wrap gauze. it’s v intimate. they probably did it for the first time when thea was playing for the ravens and kevin had yet to debut on the raven line, and there was enough of an age difference between them that it was pretty innocent. thea was overworked and hit for her trouble and kevin came up bc he was terribly impressed by her and a little bit in love and he dabbed at her cuts like the clumsy 17 year old that he was
who is in constant need of comfort? 
it’s mutual bc their pasts are mutual, but I’m willing to bet that it’s kevin who wakes up sweating and crying, & thea knows how to give enough distance and turn on the lights so he remembers where he’s not. He was in shackles for longer. he still kinda hates himself sometimes. thea strokes the chess piece on his cheek and tells him that he checked riko straight to hell
who gets more jealous? 
shit man idk?? neither of them really have room for anything in their lives other than exy and each other (and reluctant connection w teammates/family) so there’s not a lot of jealousy fodder. and they’re never gonna be jealous of the other person caring more about exy than them bc like. that’s understood. if I had to guess I might say thea’s jealous of the world falling all over themselves to get a glimpse at Kevin Day you know
who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 
I hate to say either bc they’re a really good match and I feel like they’d bounce back really easily, but it’s possible that they fade away from each other when they’re getting their footing on their respective teams. thea can feel herself getting distracted and she pulls out. kevin shows up like???? >:( and they make up on the spot
who will propose? 
probably kevin bc he does the math and realizes that thea is the best thing that’s ever happened to him in his LIFE. he’s probably 10 shots of vodka deep and he looks up suddenly like :O wait a second she’s perfect??? how do I keep her? and nicky has to be like dude.. have u heard of marriage..... it’s nifty and it’s been legal for you straight people for a bajillion years
who has the most difficult parents?
i know literally nothing about thea’s parents but considering jean’s family was a shitty mess that got caught up in the moriyamas I’m assuming most or all of the ravens are in similar situations?? they play for.... the mafia.....
so unless they’re saints, they’re definitely not better than david wymack can I get an amen
who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 
im trying to picture them holding hands........ I think they would in a like... come here! hurry ur ass up! kind of way like thea spends all her time dragging kevin’s oblivious ass around
who comes up for the other all the time? 
considering neither of them mentioned each other or their relationship for like two books........ idk
i bet you in an easier world it would be kevin though. (my gf is beautiful and strong. she could obliterate u w one swing of her racquet. she wears pretty pastels on her face. i want to kiss her)
who hogs the blankets? 
don’t tell but kevin’s obsessed w feeling coddled and warm and I’m willing to bet that he hogs both the blankets and the woman until thea is also bundled up. i hope they learn to cuddle. I bet they’re rlly bad at it at first but it gets easier and more constant over time
who gets more sad? 
again like. I know v little about thea’s background but if she’s in the nest she’s in deep shit. the both of them were assets that had their lives manipulated out of their own hands. kevin’s wound is open and thea’s is poorly sewn up and neither of them are doctors tbh it takes time and professional help until thea can take her old jersey number off of her necklace and replace it with a chess piece pendant (3 guesses which one)
who is better at cheering the other up? 
they’re reeeally bad at this tbh both of them are like ‘uhhhh... don’t cry.. please..rlly.. stop’ spoilers it’s bc they’ve never been properly comforted themselves :))))
BUT as time goes on kevin starts clumsily recreating things the foxes have said to him and it’s really sweet, and thea can be v mellow when they’re alone together, so she’ll take his bad hand and massage the tension out of it, and smooth his hair back and tell him what an idiot he’s being but like.. fondly
who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
nope
who is more streetwise?
I still know nothing about thea but I’m willing to bet that it’s her bc she’s been out in the world for longer?? idk where she was before evermore but she’s already building a life for herself after it when we meet her. kevin’s fresh out of it. he’s messed up but he was messed up indoors under lock and key. all he has now is a little experience from columbia and from watching andrew
who is more wise?
tough to say? I get the feeling that thea knows better than kevin? idky she just..... knows
he’s oblivious at best tbh he knows obscure facts and exy exy exy. thea does too but she also has that practicality and survival baked into her. she seems sharp to me
who’s the shyest? 
not really shy so much as unwilling to show mmmmm anything about themselves until they’re in deep. Thea comes in and orders neil out of the room the first time she meets him ! like she has every right to be pissed but she doesn’t seem stressed that she’ll be disobeyed or come across as rude. I think she’s familiar with being listened to. kev has that sickly media personality and a seven layer cake of repression underneath that so..
pick ur poison. they’re both mostly bravado anyway
who boasts about the other more? 
again, in a perfect world, kevin’s bragging about thea
but as is thea gets all these questions about kevin in interviews and she’s like “hi we’re here to talk about me” but if they ask the right question she’ll get this sly smile and drop them some subliminal messaging type hints about their relationship and move on
kevin’s more sputtery and obvious about thea. she’s his weakness
who sits on who’s lap?
I bet it’s both bc kevin’s obsessed w thea’s thighs on either side of his lap & her weight on top of him and thea likes how pliant and focused kevin gets when he’s looking down at her
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dartlekey · 8 years ago
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A walk in the park
~For the MP100 Valentine’s week challenge, Day 1~
Category: Gen, M/M
Pairing: Serizawa Katsuya/Reigen Arataka, mention of Terumob
Word count: 2363
Warnings: Child neglect, Child abandonment. Also some Death (well, you know. Dead people. It’s a show about espers, ghosts and exorcists; what do you expect)
Notes: Yes, I managed to take a cute, fluffy topic and turn it into an absolute angst fic - although it does have a fluffy ending, so please forgive me ;)
***
"Cinnamon Park?"
The client, a young mother with tired eyes, nodded nervously. "I always go there with the twins in the afternoon, because there's a great playground. Lots of my friends bring their children there too, and the kids have lots of fun together - or at least, they used to. Since a few days ago, a spirit has manifested in the tube that connects the play structure, and violently attacks anyone that goes near - even the adults! My friend Mina still has the scratches to prove it!"
As if on cue, the small girl on her lap started crying; whether she understood the words or just got frightened by her mother's fearful tone, Reigen didn't know. He couldn't even tell how old the kid was; he'd never been good with children. Dealing with Mob from a young age had only worked out because the small esper was so insensitive to social interaction, and despite his naiveté so very mature for his age. (As Reigen had learned, the two weren't mutually exclusive.)
To make matters worse, the other twin, a small boy resting at the mother's feet, looked up because of the noise and realized his sister was crying - and suddenly his lip was wobbling as well.
The mother herself winced, looking exhausted already; she'd probably suffered through a lot of this in the past few days. "There, there," she said half-heartedly and patted the girl's back, but the kid didn't let up, and the boy started sniffling.
"E-excuse me - may I...?"
Both Reigen and the mother looked up at Serizawa, who'd previously been standing off to the side, taking notes, but now had stepped up to them, looking nervous.
The mother shrugged, while Reigen hesitated; he had no idea what Serizawa planned to do and also doubted it was the best idea to let someone with strong social anxiety near a crying child - but surprisingly, Serizawa didn't wait for Reigen's okay. Instead, he crouched down, picked up a toddler with each hand, settled them on his lap and said, "Hey, do you like sparkly things? And colors?"
The girl ignored him and continued bawling, but the boy looked up and wrinkled his tiny nose at him in confusion. "Oh, you do? I love them as well. Blue, yellow, green... my favorite is orange, you know. What's your favorite color?" The boy hesitated, then stammered out: "W-wed..."
The girl looked over suspiciously, seeming almost irritated that her brother was hogging the attention, and started to cry louder. Serizawa, on the other hand, beamed at the boy. "Oh, yes, I love red! A strong color for a strong boy... Oh, maybe I can call it here... 'Red! Red, appear!'"
Even though he still wasn't very susceptible to such things, Reigen could feel the aura charge collecting around Serizawa - and suddenly the dark-haired esper and kids were surrounded with pulsing red swirls and sparkles, flowing and weaving around them. The kids stared at the sparkles, completely baffled. The girl even stopped crying, she was so surprised.
And then the boy started laughing and clapping his hands. "Pwetty!!!", he squeaked, bouncing up and down on Serizawa's knee. "Pwetty!!!" Serizawa smiled, and turned to the little girl, who was still pouting. "And what's your favorite color?"
The girl pressed her lips together, then mumbled, "Blue." Serizawa's smile widened, and he said, "How fitting, a cool color for such a cool little girl. Could you call for it, do you think? Call for blue?"
The girl frowned, then hesitantly nodded. "Blue. Bluuuue!"
Serizawa flicked his fingers, and more swirls burst foward, the blue mingling and intertwining with the red, creating a starburst like fireworks. The girl, fascinated, reached out to grab one of the strands, and it flowed towards her and nuzzled against her cheek; there was no other word for it. "Warm!"
Reigen and the mother stared down at the little scene, lost for words. "How does he do that?", the mother asked. "No idea," Reigen responded, not realizing she meant the aura manifestation. How does this guy get more amazing every time he walks into my office...?
Then he shook his head to regain his focus. "Anyway, this spirit, you want it exorcised? No problem at all, as you can see, this office has three strong, capable espers to take care of your problem."
The woman frowned. "Where's the third?"
Reigen scowled, about to retort angrily - until he realized his mistake. "Oh, right, Mob isn't here today. He has his date..." He frowned. "That Hanazawa kid better not mess this up, Mob's been excited about it for days..."
He turned back to the woman, who gave him a confused look. "Ah, no matter. Lets discuss the different exorcism courses..."
*
An hour later, Reigen and Serizawa were walking through the park, on their way to the playground. It was a beatiful day, the sun was shining and the first cherry blossoms were opening on the trees despite that sudden frost five days prior. Wow, Reigen thought drily, such a wonderfully romantic setting for an exorcism. The spirit will be thrilled.
Why not you?, an unacknowledged part of him whispered. After all, you're here alone with Serizawa...
No! No, shut up, brain!
Even so, Reigen couldn't help but glance over at Serizawa, who was marveling at the cherry blossoms. It had been more than two years since Serizawa had joined the Spirits And Such office, and in that time, Serizawa had grown so much. In the beginning, Reigen had actually thought that he'd be dealing with just another frightened child, but he'd been so wrong that it made him cringe now. Because once he'd finally managed to coax Serizawa out of his shell of fear, Serizawa had turned out to be so much more. So thoughtful, so dependable, so kind, so gentle, so sincere... always so sincere.
Not someone a fraud like him even deserved to be working with. Reigen was constantly afraid of the day when Serizawa would shed his past insecurities completely, and realize he could do so much better than Spirits and Such. But Reigen had no right to keep him tethered here, and definitely no right to ask for anything more than friendship.
No matter how much his heart ached.
"Uh, Reigen-san? Is there something on my face?"
Reigen blinked, and realized he'd been staring. "Ah, sorry, no... I was just, uhm. Thinking. That you were really good with the kids back in the office. Amazing, actually. I hadn't expected that."
Serizawa smiled, flushing at the praise, and Reigen felt a stinging in his chest. "Ah, thank you, Reigen, but that was nothing. Children are easy to understand, it's the adults that are difficult... Not that I think you're difficult," he quickly added, "but-"
"It's fine, I understand," Reigen quickly interrupted, "but well. You know. I couldn't have done it. I'm terrible with children, and always have been. Maybe it's hereditary. But I always feel like their big round eyes are judging me, like they see right through me. And that makes me nervous, and that makes them dislike me."
Serizawa chuckled gently. "Huh. Well then, I guess we'll just have to stick together." Then his eyes widened and he blushed. "F-for balance, I mean. Socially. Dealing with adults a-and kids. Um. Ah- sorry. Forget it."
Reigen swallowed, and forced a smile. Of course he doesn't want to stick with me for other reasons. "Right."
They spent the next few minutes in silence, only broken when they finally reached the playground. Reigen slowed his walk, letting his gaze trail over the swings and monkey bars. "Do you sense anything?"
"Only a slight presence," Serizawa responded, frowning at the tube.
Reigen chuckled. "Then I guess this'll be... a walk in the park."
Serizawa paused, then snorted, a grin sneaking on to his face. "Indeed."
Reigen felt absurdly proud of himself.
He walked over to the tube slowly, and started doing what he did best: talking. "Hello? Spirit, are you in there? Can you hear me?"
He stepped closer, but as soon as he neared the opening, an angry array of something spiked and broken lashed out, narrowly missing him as he jumped back.
Reigen inspected his tie. About half of it had been torn off and ripped to shreds. "Um. Well then."
"Reigen-san!" Serizawa was immediately at his side, staring alternately at the deceased tie and the tube. "I... the aura just expanded tenfold. I think the spirit was hiding it... I apologize for not noticing -"
Reigen waved his hand airily, hoping his legs weren't shaking. "Ah, it's fine, no harm done... Spirit? Why are you here?"
A buzzing like of a thousand bees, and a distorted voice, "gO aWAy;.!"
Reigen frowned. Not a good start. "Spirit -"
"gO aWaYyy; . aND dO''Nt caLL mE ThAt;;!"
Reigen stepped closer again, frowning. "What? 'Spirit'?"
Another explosion of spikes, this time blocked by Serizawa. Reigen felt his hair stand up on end, but remained still.
"My nAMe iS kaITo.,."
"Kai-" Reigen faltered. Something about the way that the spirit spoke, petulant, almost whining. So adamant about it's name, but only giving its first name, not the surname. Could it be -
"Are you a child?"
The spirit was silent. Then, "I dON;t AnsWEr tO StrAnGeRs,,."
Reigen exchanged a worried look with Serizawa, because that answer was as clear as any. They were definitely dealing with the spirit of a child, and those were violent and unstable at the best of times.
Serizawa stepped forwards, and crouched down to the tube even though he couldn't see in - the entire opening of the tube was blocked by dark, writhing aura tentacles, shimmering like oil slicks. What a powerful spirit, Reigen thought and shivered.
"Are you..." Serizawa wet his lips and tried again. "Are you waiting for your mother?"
A pause, then. "i DO';nt HaVE a mOTheR;.,."
Did it sound sad? Reigen couldn't tell through all the buzzing.
"Then, your father?"
The spikes flashed out again. "hE,,'S CoMiNg:., HE prOMiSeD!!.-,!"
Was it... agitated?
Serizawa slowly shuffled closer. "He's coming for you? Did he say when?"
Another pause. "DadDY wOrKs LonG. loNG. DaRk alReaDy. KaITo WaiTs."
Serizawa smiled softly and inched towards the psychic mess leaking out of the tube. "Because you're a good boy, a very responsible one. Practically an adult."
The tentacles withdrew a bit, became a bit more see-through. "ThAt'"s RIgHt.,. i;'M stRonG.. NoT cOLd.;,,-. Don#;T fEEl coLd--.,,,."
Reigen leaned closer, confused. "You're cold?"
"NOT COLD!;::!!;"
If not for Serizawa's shield, they would both have been shredded. "NoT cOlD. ,, nOT slEePy.;:: i WaIT.;;;:.-,-"
"Yes, you wait, like a grown-up," Serizawa said soothingly, then turned to Reigen, worry evident on his face. He mouthed, Should I excorcise him now?, but Reigen held up his hand, signaled him to wait. Because he had a horrible feeling in his gut and a growing suspition in his head that he needed to prove.
"How long Kaito? How long have you been waiting?"
"i,::,"
The spirit paused, became even more see-through. Reigen and Serizawa peered into the tube; they could just make out something small and lumpy at the bottom of it.
"I wAit.;::"
"More than a day?"
"i wAIt.;:-"
"Two days? Three?"
"I WaiT..,;:-"
"A week?"
Silence.
Reigen clearly remembered the weather report. '- experiencing a sudden cold front despite the previous approach of spring. Be sure to bring your jacket if you're going out at night, because temperatures are dropping below zero degrees celcius-'
"Five days?", he asked.
The spirit paled even more, almost translucent now. Reigen leaned as close to it as he dared, staring into the tube and confirming the shape of of the lumpy thing.
"I----:;;--:... hE PrOmiSEd.;:!:;,"
Reigen looked up at Serizawa, and swallowed hard. Exorcise it, he mouthed, feeling close to throwing up. Now.
Serizawa blinked. "Are you sure?"
"Now!"
And Serizawa - Serizawa shook his head.
He shook his head, and said to the spirit, "Of course your dad will come. He'll be here. Because he loves you."
And suddenly, there was a little boy crouching at the edge of the tube, form glowing green, looking up at them with empty eyes. "he dOEs,,:?;,.,"
Serizawa smiled softly. "All parents love their children. But your dad? He loves you the absolute most."
The spirit smiled, and glowed gold - and then it dissapeared, gone forever.
Reigen swallowed.
Then he reached into the tube with trembling hands, and pulled out the corpse.
The former body of small Kaito smiled blissfully in death, happy with a promise that may or may not have been true. "Not all parents love their children," Reigen said hollowly, gently brushing the hair back from the bluish tinged face, not even caring about the smell of five day's decomposition.
Serizawa gently pulled the body away from him. "They do. Even yours did. Even if they weren't there when they should have been."
Reigen stared at him.
Stared at Serizawa, his insides exposed; opened and closed his mouth without words coming out. "How...?"
Serizawa smiled. "Reigen-san... if anyone, I know what real fear looks like. You were projecting onto Kaito."
Reigen suddenly feels a tear running down his cheek without being sure how it got there. "I..." He swallowed again. "I guess I was, huh."
Serizawa reached out, hesitantly, and brushed the tear away. His hand was so tender, and Reigen leaned into the touch.
"Don't worry, Reigen-san. I'll never leave, as long as you want me to stay. Because you're important to me, so, so important. Because I -"
Serizawa hesitated, then plunged onwards, "Because I love you."
Reigen's breath hitched, but Serizawa didn't notice. "And I know you don't love me back, not in that way, but that's okay. I don't have to be your lover, and I won't leave just because I can't be... I just want you to know that you always have a shoulder to lean on."
Reigen stared into Serizawa's warm brown eyes, and thought, I don't deserve you... But I want to, I want to, so much.
And Reigen leaned forwards and as his eyes closed, he brushed his lips against Serizawa's; carefully, tenderly. Serizawa froze, at first, but as Reigens hand came up to cup his face he melted into the kiss, a soft sigh escaping his lips and warming Reigen to his core. Never cold again.
He pulled back and smiled softly, saw his blush mirrored on Serizawa's face, as the esper stuttered, "R-reigen-san?"
And for the first time in too many years, Reigen thought he'd like to hear his own first name again.
"Please, call me Arataka."
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