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sports-on-sundays · 9 months ago

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and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

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cod-imagines-fanfiction · 1 year ago

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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.9k words, part 3)

Summary: Valeria prepares to take you back at all costs and she thinks back to the days of your happy love. Alejandro's jealous interest turns into something more sinister as he continues to intimidate you. The tables turn as Valeria makes her first move.

TW: threat of (sexual) violence. (Also Google Translated Spanish)

I didn't expect to write Alejandro so darkly, sorry! I'm also working on the next part! I'm aiming to finish this fic before the 10th because that's when I'm flying to my home country for the rest of August, and I won't have the space to be as active or to write with privacy. Also thank you for all the love you've sent my way, I really appreciate all the attention and it makes me very happy. Enjoy part 3!! :D Link to A03 Part 1 and Part 2

Valeria was a well-inked woman, her tattoos were typical for someone who made their living within the hostile environment of a cartel. Her ink was in many ways traditional; a rose on her upper arm, a classic snake circling the blade of a knife, references hidden within elusive Roman numbers, an image of Death looming behind a scorpio on her bicep. Images strategically placed in obvious places, a courtesy call for all who came across her. And then there were the private ones, that only you had ever witnessed; that only you had trailed your finger upon, following the lines down her skin, making her shiver underneath your touch. The matching hearts stamped very low on her back, the quote of your favourite song etched on her skin. And right below her tummy, just underneath her underwear line, this was written:"Love is as strong as death, as deep as the grave." A secret romantic, she got that tattooed after you rubbed her lower tummy to relieve her painful period. You had been together for quite a while by that point, had already exchanged 'i love you's, had already explored each other's bodies to the core, and had been living together. She knew you loved her and you made a point of showing it every day. And yet, it still caught her by surprise sometimes, your tender touch caressing her when she wasn't expecting it; in the sparkles that came alive in your eyes when she walked into the room. But what moved her most of all was how you responded to her weakness. Not the same weakness that men look down on - the open displays of her love, the open hurt in one's eyes when their loved one said something that cut deep. No, what really mattered to her was the physical weakness, how you would respond when her strength failed her and she was bedridden. Valeria had the unpleasant habit of sleeping alone when on her period, saying that it was because she got angry easily and didn't want to bother you. But really, she didn't want you to hear her small whimpers, to see her body curl inwards as she sought relief from the pain. On one of those days, as she was napping in the spare bedroom, and just as she was winning her struggle with sleep and about to enter the land of dreams, the bed gave in to your weight as you crawled behind her and put your body against hers.

"Go away, mi amor. I'm not in the mood." She grumbled in response and tried moving away from your touch. Paying no mind to her protests, you kissed the top of her head as you slid behind her, placing your arm below her neck and bringing your bodies close. You left a trail of tiny kisses along her neck and your other hand roamed beneath her shirt, then moved lower, passing the elastic band of her underwear.

"I said go away, I can't do it today," she protested but stopped because instead of going lower, your hand simply just rested on that spot. You drew circles on her soft lower tummy with your thumb. As your hand warmed up her skin, it brought relief to her pain. "I'm your personal water bottle, baby," you cooed as you placed more small, chaste kisses on her skin. Valeria relaxed into your skin, basking in the warmth as she let out a relieved sigh. Valeria had always known she'd kill for you, but at that very moment, she vowed to die before she let anything harm you. She needed to mark her devoted love for you on her skin permanently, and so got that tattoo in the very spot that you massaged every month.

And now she stared at that tattoo as she buttoned her trousers and tightened her weapons belt, hiding it.

There was a stiffness within Valeria that made her hard to break, but that, nonetheless, would one day surely be broken. She feared that this day had now come. She always knew you'd be part of her undoing, but if that undoing was ever to happen, she anticipated it in the form of betrayal. There were certain wounds that your love would soothe, but not erase, and her fear of losing you was one of them. Although she knew there was always the risk of losing you in her operations - spouses were frequent targets of attack in her profession - she could never fathom that this would ever happen. And now that it finally did, her undoing felt imminent. But before she fell, she would undo the lives of every person involved in your abduction.

Valeria walked down the halls of her estate which was now busy as a bee's colony. Personnel ran up and down the halls, transferring arms and themselves to vehicles and aircraft, putting everyone down to the guard dogs into use. Everything was readied to perfection before they descended upon the headquarters of the Mexcian Army with blood and fire. This was unlike Sin Nombre's usual pattern of behaviour. El Sin Nombre worked in the shadows and did the most to prevent bloodshed. El Sin Nombre brushed shoulders with the Mexican Army frequently, but nonetheless maintained a respectful distance. They kept to their turf, and she kept to hers. She was the blade that shone in the shadows, an elusive blade that had to be looked for, but now she would carry her knife in the open. And she would burn the world to the ground, the whole lot of them be damned. Let it be known that Valeria Garza loves a woman to death. And she will ride the forces of death to the battlefield even if just to reunite with her love. She thought of you right now, kept somewhere cold and grimy, afraid and lost in the world of armies and men, in the world of violence and destruction. A world she tried hard to keep separate from your own.

And yet still, she did not regret ever bringing you to her life; not for a second. Binding your lives may have caused your ruin and hers, but she was still glad to have known happiness with you before the bitterness descended.

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"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?" Alejandro looked right into your eyes with his dark ones, and you just stared at him, shocked and embarrassed. Your anxiety turned into stone-cold fear. What kind of question was that? This was not where the conversation was going, nor did you ever expect to be asked this - especially by someone like him. You painfully craved Valeria's presence in that moment, so much that it hurt. Ever since she entered your life, no one dared to intimidate or harass you. She became your protector and your guardian. It had been years since you had to defend yourself, verbally or physically, and the realisation almost brought tears to your eyes. You became painfully aware of your predicament as the Colonel stared you down impatiently.

You willed yourself to say something, anything, but your words would not come out no matter how hard you tried. "I asked you a question," he said. "I don't know what to say," your voice trailed off to near silence by the end. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with your ring. "It's a yes or no answer," he said. "I don't want to talk anymore," you said, louder than you spoke before. "That's not how interrogations work. I ask, you answer." Alejandro stepped forward and leaned down to your level. "So answer the question - ahora." "¿Qué quieres de mí?" You asked. ("What do you want from me?")

He moved uncomfortably close and whispered: "I want her to suffer. I want her to know what betrayal feels like. Quiero arruinarte." ("I want to ruin you.") His eyes trailed below your tearful eyes and to your lips, then lower to your neck. His breath caught at the sight of bruises forming on your soft skin in the shape of his fingers. He wondered what the rest of you would like decorated like that, what it would feel like to grab all the soft parts of you and make them hurt. He gloated at the idea that Valeria would see you like that; destroyed and afraid, marked all over by him. For her to feel what it is like to have what she loves tattered into pieces. To feel the betrayal that he felt when she left him. He, the leader of Los Vaqueros, one of the most promising soldiers of his generation, abandoned for a random girl that nobody had even heard of; a nobody. A girl who did nothing more than help out in her Abuela's kitchen. As Alejandro's eyes leered across your body, he wondered what it was that attracted Valeria to you. Was it your pretty eyes? Large and round puppy eyes that he bet could beg so prettily. Was it your soft and glistening skin? Or was it your inoculated innocence? The innocence of someone who didn't know what it was like to kill, who had never taken a life. The innocence of someone who didn't make their living alongside Death. The innocence of someone you came home to after a long day, who nursed the wounds the world inflicted upon you and sent you out there stronger than before. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that parts of you filled out where his didn't. The parts of your body that were soft where his were hard, that you were delicate where he was strong, that your skin was smooth when his was scarred. That where he yielded, you broke. That you could crumble in love and he wouldn't. That he and Valeria belonged with the destroyers of the world, and you were of the destroyed. That there was an inevitable attraction between these opposites, and resistance when two of the same met, an instinctive aversion to that which was made of the same stuff as you.

"You as much as lay a hand on me, cabrón, and it'll be the last thing you ever fucking do," you spat your words at him, anger burning in your chest. Upon hearing this, a dark grin stretched across his face. He reached out with his gloved hand and grabbed a strand of your hair.

"You're so stupid, you don't even know it," he mused while rubbing his thumb against your hair. You jerked back to release him from you, but he only held on to your hair, preferring to see you rip it from your scalp than let go.

"You don't know what can happen to women in custody, do you?" He said. You stared back in defiance. "You're just trying to scare me. You wouldn't dare." "I guess Valeria never told you how we do things here." He said, looking down at you. "She told me how much she fucking hated it, and how small you all made her feel," you said, emboldened in your anger. "And whatever you do to me won't change the fact that she loved me and not you, and that she will always choose me." You said, staring up at him. His eyes darkened and he released your hair, only to raise his hand high above you, preparing to bring it down with a force that would knock you off your chair.

He was about to do so but was interrupted when the door opened.

An unknown man entered the room, dressed in the typical kit of the Mexican Army. "Colonel," he said and saluted. "You're wanted in the yard." Alejandro looked behind him lazily. "What's this about? Estoy ocupado." (I'm busy) The man blinked back at him. "El fantasmo, sir." Alejandro grunted and returned his hand to his side, not bothering to hide what he was about to do. He started walking towards the door. "You just think about what I just said," he uttered and shut the door behind him. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you took a moment to comprehend what just happened. His threat hung over you like a rope, tightly coiled like the lump in your throat. How long till he returned? You couldn't stand the idea of being left alone with him again. "Senora."

For a moment, you forgot the other man was still with you. You looked up at him, worry written all over your face, weary of his presence. He stepped closer to you and placed a hand in his pocket. To your surprise, he pulled out a strawberry-flavoured breakfast bar; one of your favourite snacks. "Don't you worry. La jefa viene en camino," he said as he passed it to you. ("The boss is on her way") Stunned, you held the bar in your hands and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Many thoughts rushed through your mind - she knew you were here! You thought of what Commander Graves had said about Valeria having friends with many places, and here was one operating right underneath their noses. You wanted to ask the man so many things, but could only speak one word: "When?" He looked at you with a soft, sympathetic smile on his lips. His fingers reached to the earpiece and he pressed it. "Now," he said and an alarm siren started started screaming.

The sound was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. The siren blared over the speakers of the Mexican Army's headquarters in one long, continuous yell. Immediately, you could hear the thundering footsteps of countless men running up and down the grounds, yells of surprise and panicked instructions that were incomprehensible to you from within the box. The man looked at you calmly. "Stay right here, senora. Don't come out for any reason." And with that, he ran out the door, sealing the door shut behind him. You could hear a chain rattling against the entrance as he locked you in. The breakfast bar sat on your lap and you began peeling the wrapping. You took a big bite out of it, tasting the sweetness of the sugar and the sourness of the strawberry pieces. You swallowed your snack as the first bullet was fired.

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Alejandro was annoyed at the interruption and hurried to the yard where Ghost was expecting him. He wondered what the urgency was. Perhaps Valeria sent a message. That was what he wanted, but he hoped it would take a bit longer. There was a surprising amount of fun to be had with you. Even if he didn't lay a hand on you, his words alone were enough to terrify you, and he loved every second of it. Your eyes widening in fear when you understood what he meant, your embarrassment at what was implied; it excited him more than he wanted to admit. Had that been Valeria on that chair, he would've been chewed out in a second, if not worse. It was uncommon to come across someone so timid as you in his line of work, someone so easy to pick on. And yet, you showed some spite, too. There were many layers to be uncovered here, and he wanted to take his time unravelling all that you had to offer.

He arrived at the yard. The place was littered with army vehicles transporting cargo and people to and from the facility, and further out, the aircraft was in the process of being retired for the day. To his annoyance, Ghost was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found Rudolpho helping out with the transport of arms.

"Have you seen Ghost, Rudy?" Alejandro asked. Rudolpho paused and turned to his superior, and longtime friend. "Ghost and Soap are in a meeting with General Sherperd, the Captain, and Graves, sir. I'm not sure when they'll be done." Alejandro raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A meeting with Graves? And why weren't we invited?" Rudolpho shook his head, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know." He partly turned around to continue with his task, but then faced Alejandro again. "Colonel," he said and moved closer to Alejandro so that others couldn't hear. "I'm not doubting your judgement here. But will this help catch El Sin Nombre? We've not heard anything of Valeria since that night." He said.

Alejandro stared back in response. "Of course this will help catch her. I told you this is a necessary evil to weed her out. I know how she works, trust me." He affirmed.

Rudolpho seemed unsure. "I knew her too, Alejandro. And I don't think this was the right move, at all. And I think Commander Graves is having his doubts too." He didn't need to spell it out for Alejandro, he knew the implication behind this. That Graves was doubting Alejandro's judgment. That this meeting they were having could very well be about this operation, calling it a failure. Wanting to change the strategy. Rudy pressed on. "And I really don't think she ought to be left alone in that container. She should be transported to jail, sir."

Alejandro turned to him and spoke slowly, realization hitting him like a wave. "But she's not alone." The alarm in Alejandro's eyes spread to Rudolpho and they both turned to face the building that hosted the container when the emergency alarm was triggered.

Promised tags: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl (thank you for all the support!) @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit

#call of duty valeria #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #cod valeria #cod imagine #cod mw2 #call of duty #valeria x reader

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kanmom51 · 5 months ago

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PJM2 is coming

MUSE

I literally cannot contain my excitiement.

Sitting her, at work may I say, putting these words on paper, so to speak, because f***ing hell, wtf JM?

Where to start?

The colour concepts? The choice of name? Choice of font (That JM popping to eye)? The flower? The links to TTU (notes sheet and flower)? The whole play with Closer than this? The dropped lyrics?

This man is a friggin genius (not that we didn't know this already)...

There is so much to talk about, and he hasn't even started with the promotions, and we haven't even seen the concept photos or the album and the songs. Name, colours, 2 lines of lyrics and we have our hands full already. They certainly know what they are doing.

Before I jump in, I want to, once again, state very loudly and clearly that everything written here are my opinions, which are based on what we've been handed so far, and could change the more we are shown.

So, let's get it...

JM fetching this from the purple locker (which we don't see are purple off the bat and only when the lights turn on). Notes for The Truth Untold.

His wittle thumb with his crescent moon.

The notes title : La lettra - The letter. Hmm... interesting.

And then this:

We have the flower:

and this that makes me believe that yes indeed, it is the silhouette of a Smeralso.

Some of this I am yet to see where is going. like the referencing of "the letter", The truth untold, the flower... (she says, all while thinking of the choice this Festa to stream LY Seoul final with said song and the changes that JM and JK chose to make to it)...

All that and more in one little short clip.

And then we have that little 'chat' opened up by BH, and those lyrics. Oh, those lyrics.

All references that indeed can be connected with army. I mean, that's what JM is king of.

All also a clear reference to a one Jeon Jungkook, if you are only willing to look and see.

Rain

Snow

Crying

We have this:

Which they have BOTH chose to bring up once again in 2023, JK happening to do so during JM's Face promos, not to mention the rain reference in SNTY (and of course, goes without saying Still with you, but that's back in 2020, while they have both managed to bring it up and reference it once again in 2023).

Remember this?

Oh, and what about this?

And then we have these:

Remember JM tearing up after winning MMA for BS&T ?

youtube

JM getting emotional and crying only followed by JK tearing up.

*If you haven't seen this one yet, go watch the full live.

And who can forget JK during MOTS ONE as well, seeing JM crying, distress clearly showing on his face, just waiting for the moment he can go and comfort JM.

If these are actual lyrics for a song to come or lyrics that were dropped, one thing we know, and that these words, these lines, they were written by JM, and he made a clear choice to share them with us.

And in doing so, sorry, I'm still not believing this all while sitting here gushing and knowing this was coming (no, I didn't know this specifically was coming, but the feeling that they were going big or going home, that I've had ever since July 2023... took some time and many tribulations, but we are getting there folks). Sidetracked as I always am, lol.

Back on track.... in doing so, JM is basically standing on a rooftop screaming at the top of his lungs:

Not 1, not 2, but 3 JK references in that little shared piece of lyrics clearly written by JM, for an album we are yet to see and hear.

Anyone, and I mean anyone that is a BTS army, that has seen original content, that has followed their Twitter account or seen older tweets, that are open and willing to see it, will KNOW that these lyrics are JAYKAY!!!!!

And let me backtrack a second here...

Cause I did mention that these references could be understood as if they are made for army, right?

So yeah. Army references or JK references? I am going to say both, leaning very much to the JK side of it. Cause that's how they do it. Time after time after time.

Let's mention the colour choices as well.

We have the background colours.

We have the yellow.

And then we have the album concepts.

2 concepts.

Blooming

and Serenade.

Which happens to be Yellow, same colour threaded through Serendipity.

And we even have purple thrown in there too.

Notice how all the lockers are painted purple. The colour of army you may say, but also JK's colour (so again, army and JK?).

And he's pulling out the music sheet from this purple locker.

Those lockers representing his inspiration for his music perhaps?

Giving us these lyrics, then telling us the album is called Muse (or telling us the name of the album and it's meaning and then dropping those lyrics, take your pick regarding the timing, cause basically, same same), showing us the music being extracted from those purple lockers... ya think his muse is that entity he's talking about in those lyrics perhaps (even more so if we see the references as both for army and JK)?

Rhetorical question, btw.

And then we have the mint green.

Perhaps this is what JM was talking about when he told us in his birthday live, if memory serves me right, about going to the starting point, or more so starting from the beginning trying to figure out himself as an artist?

Also, cannot help but think of this image here:

I cannot wait to see his concept photos, and where this is all going.

We talked about JK being so loud during 2023 (well, he's had his super loud moments before that, but 2023 and his lives were smoking). And JM, well it felt (and I say felt, cause it's not really true, and I'll explain why) was quieter, more subdued, especially during JK's Golden promotions.

But here's the thing.

JM and JK have their own special oh so different ways of being loud and showing us themselves (and it shows even more so seeing that JK, for whatever reasons he had for it, did not write his songs for Golden - not saying he did not have influence on the lyrics or choice of songs with lyrics he wanted). JK did it through his choices in his photo shoots and styling for his songs and album. He did it with his lives and his total fanboying over JM. And JM, he does it through his art, which includes also but not only his lyrics.

Those two are both loud as fuck. And JM, well if these sneak lyrics are a promo of more to come (which, they probably are seeing that we have Face to fall back on as an example), then he's as loud as a frigging foghorn.

And last but not least, before I go:

Lookie here...

D-31

#Jimin #BTS JM #JM #PJM2 #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #MUSE #JM MUSE #counting the days to 19 July 2024 #mark your calanders

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anywhosiesx3 · 5 months ago

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Leon Kennedy Headcanons ♡

my Leon headcanons because i love him and think about him about him constantly, so enjoy my hcs about this man <3

some are silly and random, some are romantic.

-he's such a SWEETHEART.

-omg. he's a sweetie. i can't with this man. he makes me smile and giggle every time i see him. he's such a himbo you guys.

-he speaks italian, english and spanish. since he is from Italy (or rather, his parents are), he's known the language since birth. then learned english when he got to kindergarten.

-i don't think his english or spanish are the best though since they're not his first. he'll sometimes be forget some english words when talking to somebody, so he replaces them with italian ones and his coworks are just like "what???" 🤨

-has definitely said "wow there partner" or "wow there cowboy" when somebody pisses him off.

-he likes both women and men. he has no preference either. i see him as either bi or pan, probably more pan leaning since that's what i am.

-he's literally such a good boyfriend, i can't. even if you too aren't dating and are just friends, he's so sweet. i would gladly given him a kiss on the cheek if i could.

-if you we're to get your period, he'll buy you pads and tampons. if you get cramps, he'll sit on the ground or lay in bed with you and rub your back. he'll go "i'm so sorry baby." :(

-his favorite colors (and color pallet) are blue and black. the blue is meant to represent stylishness.

-he's so dog coded. like just full on golden retriever energy.

-likes lizards. bc i said so.

-goes to NICU and rocks babies with Rebecca sometimes, it makes his life feel somewhat normal and i love that for him <3 also girl dad leon. "girl dad leon!" we all say in unison.

-his birthday is around july-august, my brain says July 25th for some reason.

-if you're taking to long to get ready, he will threaten to leave you behind but he's not. you know it. he knows it. everyone knows it. "will you hurry up baby? i will leave you." "no you won't." "you're right, i probably won't...just hurry up, please."

-calls you baby, babe, and sweetheart. i just picture him calling you something basic or something.

-goes to a coffee shop every morning and gets the same coffee to start his day off strong. his drink choice is either really plain or stupidly girl 😭😭

-also leon is a fashion icon. especially older leon. you can deny it all you want, but in the end, we know he's cunty. like cunty cunty. like he has his bachelor in cuntology with a major in motherlogical studies at the university of servington.

-motorcycle rides!!!!!!!!!! :3 (re6-)

-as a teenager, he had really bad acne, so during re2 and generation he has a skin care routine but never tells anyone (only Krauser knows. he kinda approves, Krauser is all about taking care of yourselves to improve), so he washes his face before bed, takes meds for his skin, and puts medicine all over his face.

-however as his mental heath declines, he'll stop doing it, and his acne will either stay the same or get as bad as it was in teenager.

-also Krauser is HIGHLY against facial hair and forced Leon to shave it. but after he dies, leon stops giving a shit.

-his favorite my little pony characters are fluttershy and rainbow dash of course.

also i made a playlist for him, so you wanna listen to it, here's the link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0uLAoUjwZaXzxcH8uCt7yP?si=a3f2e9cf27b54365 also the songs are not what i think he would like, it's just songs that remind of him :D

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ayellowdaylily · 3 months ago

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Commander's Needs [NSFW]

» pairing: canon!Hange x afab!Reader » summary: Delivering Levi's paperwork to a certain Commander turns into something you could only dream about. » word count: 3.4k » notes/warnings: smut... p in v, please read my Hange headcanon for this! lots of pet names (dear, darling, good girl, love), Hange has a cock and boobs *Vine boom*, major slow burn » a/n: I had sm fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it (first fic on Tumblr so pls be nice T-T) this is also half not edited bc it's 3 am... so uh don't mind it being practically all over the place » song recommendations: Intro: Singularity by BTS » Ao3 link Happy reading ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Only the sound of the crickets outside the window, as well as the quietness of the night, could be heard from Commander Hange Zoë’s office as they immersed themselves in some rather last-minute paperwork. The oil lamp’s flickering flame reflected off their glasses as they wrote, signed and stamped.

The soft silence was suddenly broken by the sound of knocks at the Commander’s door, drawing their attention away from the messy paperwork splattered across the desk, to the unexpected raps. It was rather late, why would anyone come knocking, Hange thought as they got up from the chair.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?” Exclaimed the Commander as they opened the door to reveal the sudden visitor.

“Oh- so sorry for the late disturbance,” You said with a panicked tone as you glanced nervously at the papers in your hand, guiding them towards the Commander’s direction. “Captain Levi had instructed me to give these to you.”

As Hange sensed your tense posture, they swiftly grabbed the papers from your hands, examining them with an apparent curiosity about their contents.

“No need to worry! So Levi’s got you to do his dirty work this time?” Hange asked jokingly as they leaned against the door frame.

“I was just passing by, I’m guessing I was one of the few still awake at this time. I don’t mind tho.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Hange removed their weight from the doorframe as they returned to their desk “Now that you’re here, I might as well enjoy the company.” They pulled a chair and patted it. “Come, sit down.”

With hesitation, you slowly approached the seat and settled yourself beside Hange. The sound of a chair scraping at the floor broke the awkward silence as the Commander scooted themselves closer.

“So, besides being Levi’s mail person, what else do you do?”

You didn’t answer immediately as you gathered your thoughts, holding your tongue before answering.

“I volunteer in the medical bay quite often, if not I'm just your regular old scout.”

Hange took the time to examine you as you spoke, taking in every detail - from your hair to how the soft orange light cast by the oil lamp’s flame reflected in your eyes. You simply looked… captivating.

“A medic, huh?” Hange finally spoke once they acknowledged they had been silent for too long. “That means you know a thing or two about anatomy, right?”

“I do, I’ve seen and learned lots of things.” You responded quickly as the Commander’s question took you aback.

Hanges eyes surveyed your face, looking for any hint of hesitation, but it wasn’t intimidating, it was… more curious than anything. Moist began covering the palms of your hands as they took their time to answer once more. Quickly, you wiped them on your pants.

“Do you think you could take a look at my neck real quick?”

“Of course! What seems to be the problem Commander?”

Slowly, Hange’s blouse revealed their shoulders as well as the upper part of their chest while they undid the first few buttons. You felt a soft plush crawl at your cheeks at the sight of Hange’s exposed skin but as the Commander turned around, you observed a swollen part of their skin located on the upper back.

“This spot has been killing me. I don’t know what the hell happened but can you take a look?” Hange said with their back turned, awaiting your medical remarks.

“Well, I think you have a knot in your neck… I’d need to take a closer look to be sure.” You explained softly.

“Do what you must, doctor.” Hange joked.

You gave them a soft hum before reaching out. The contact between your cold hands and the warmth of their body sent jolts up your spine as you touched Hange’s skin, softly touching the tense muscle.

Hanges nerves followed the touch of your fingertips on their back, they leaned into your touch a little, their breath catching in their throat when you started touching them in a not-so-delicate way, contrasting your previous soft touch.

“Have you been stressed recently?”

“Yeah, I’ve been a lot more stressed than usual lately. It’s been a rough few months, with the new position.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it…” You said as you continued to examine their skin with your fingers. “You simply have a muscle knot, you could always let it go away on its own, or I could loosen it a bit to help. But for it to get better in general, you need good nutrition and rest.”

Hange listened intently as you explained, their mind fixated on the way your touch felt on their skin. They nodded in agreement as you suggested to help loosen it slightly, but hearing your last suggestion caused a small chuckle to escape their lips.

“Rest? That’s a good one, I don't think I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. I don’t have time for-”

“Commander!” Gripping their shoulders, you turned Hange around to face you. “It’s important for you to get rest. As a matter of fact, as your acting doctor, I want you to go to bed now! The paperwork can wait.” You persisted.

Taken aback by your insistence, Hange simply stared into your eyes. They weren’t used to someone, especially a lower-ranked scout, telling them what to do. The corners of their lips quivered as they fought back the smile threatening to spread across their face.

“You think you can tell me what to do? I have lots of important work to get done tonight.” Hange said with a teasing tone as they folded their arms across their chest. You knew damn well you had absolutely no right to order the Commander around, but you were genuinely concerned for their health.

“Commander, please. It really is important to take care of yourself. No matter how much “important” work you may have.”

The only reaction Hange gave you was a soft chuckle at your persistence. They weren’t used to someone being so headstrong with them, but they secretly found themselves amused by your determination.

“Alright, alright. I’ll rest. I guess you only have my best interest in mind, right?” Hange responded as she shook her head in defeat.

“You bet, Commander!” You said with a bright smile plastered on your face that Hange couldn’t help but return. There was something about your presence that put them at ease, even though your determined attitude, they were enjoying this little back-and-forth banter.

“You’re feisty, you know that?” Hange exclaimed as they slipped their blouse back onto their shoulders, not bothering to rebutton the top buttons. “I like it”

A soft blush began covering your cheeks as you ignored their last comment.

“No time for joking around, you need a good night's rest for once.” You said demandingly as Hange held up their hands in surrender with a faint laugh.

“Yes I’m going, I’m going.” They said in a low voice, getting up from their chair with a groan.

“One more thing though…” Hange continued, stopping you in your walk towards the door.

“What is it, Commander?”

Hange remained silent before they stepped closer to you, observing you once more with a curious gaze.

“Is it a part of a doctor’s job to also ensure the patient they’re checking on… enjoys the experience?” Their voice dropped to a lower, more intense tone as they asked you. Their gaze fixed so intensely into you.

Your words came out with a stutter as Hange loomed over you, their imposing presence slightly intimidating you. “O-our patients' experience is the most important part of the job.”

The Commander smirked at your stammered response. They could tell they were making you seemingly nervous, but your reaction only fueled their enjoyment and encouraged them to push further.

“Is that so” Hange taunted under their breath as they closed the small gap between you two, their strides bringing them overwhelming close, forcing your body to make contact with their office door. They raised a hand and delicately caressed your cheek while slowly tracing the outline of your face tenderly, their touch sending pleasurable shocks through your body. Faced with the Commander's unexpected boldness, you only stood frozen in shock, unable to react any other way. A soft snicker escaped Hange’s lips as they watched your flustered face and nervous stature. With their soft fingertips still tracing your face, they pushed away a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re awfully red… aren’t you, my darling?” They murmured into your ear. Shivers were sent down your spine as their soft breath tickled your ear. The comforting warmth of Hange’s touch disappeared from your face, their hand slowly continuing its path along your body before it came to a stop at your waist, trapping it in an intimate embrace. To your surprise, your body reacted strangely to the Commander's intimate touch, the warmth of their hand against your skin sent sparks of anticipation down your spine, brewing a heat deep within you that you couldn't explain nor ignore. A smile slowly crept to Hange's lips as they felt your body tensing up to their tender touch. The Commander continued to revel in the effect they had on you, the hand resting at your waist travelled higher, their fingers dancing across your bare skin, tracing patterns that sent tremors of pleasure through your body. You couldn’t help but look down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and trepidation at their touch. The anticipation in you grew stronger and stronger.

“You’re terribly quiet, darling… speak up.” Their hot breath tingled against the crook of your neck as Hange whispered, the hand that was once simply resting by their side now forcing your chin upwards.

“Commander…” You muttered as their touch sent sparks of anticipation down to your core. Hange’s grin widened at the sound of your frailed whisper, fueling the desire boiling inside of them.

“Call me Hange, dear.” Their lips ghosted against the line of your jaw, drawing you closer. The soft, velvety touch of their lips sent subtle shivers of pleasure rippling down your body, the tender caress was an inevitable invitation to your anticipation.

“Coma- Hange” You whispered. With a hum of satisfaction escaping Hange’s throat, the sound of their name coming from your lips fueled their enjoyment.

“Ah, that's better. I like the way it sounds when you say it like that.” They continued to pepper your jaw with soft, tender kisses, their lingering breath hot and warm against your skin. Hange’s hand, which had journeyed to your stomach, slowly trailed downwards, the tips of their fingers tracing a torturous path along the hem of your pants, creating a delicious tension that left you yearning for more. Leaning even closer, now bodies fully pressed onto each other, Hange’s face left your jaw and brought their lips to your ear.

“You’re struggling to keep it together, aren’t you?”

The Commander couldn’t help but grin a little wider at the soft serenade of you moaning their name. It was such a sweet sound, yet it sent such terrible images through Hange’s mind. Pulling their head back slightly, just enough to view how much of a wreck they had created.

And there you were, Hange’s eyes darkened, taking in your flustered state. With a small smirk appearing on their lips, they permitted their hand to venture further down your body, delving under the waistband of your pants to trace the edge of your underwear teasingly. Such close contact near your core sent jolts of excitement through you. You felt yourself becoming wetter as Hange’s explorations became bolder. Your eyes were drawn to Hange’s lips as if magnetized, you felt the longing hunger grow inside you as you remained powerless. The Commander's gaze bore onto you more intently, noticing the way your body trembled as their hand discovered newer parts of your soft, lush skin. They couldn’t help but flicker their gaze down to your lips for a brief moment before returning to your eyes, boring the same eagerness as their own.

“Hange.. Please” You muttered quietly, you couldn’t wait any longer, the delirious tension had taken your mind by force.

“Please what, darling?”

“Touch me, please…”

It was as if a string had broken, releasing a rush of need inside of them.

Hange didn’t hesitate for a moment before allowing their hand to venture downwards towards your core, their fingertips finding your sensitive clit through the thin barrier of your underwear.

In response, you simply let out a soft moan of their name. Relieving, that’s how it felt. Darkness overtook your vision as you closed your eyes, letting the sensation of Hange’s fingertips caressing your sensitive core overtake you.

“Keep your eyes on me.” With a forceful hand, the Commander took your chin and tilted it upwards. You obeyed their command, letting your eyes bore into theirs, but, you needed more, you needed them.

“Good girl” They whispered, their voice soft and intimate as they leaned forward, gently resting their forehead on yours. The closeness intensified the moment, their words filling the air between you like a shared secret only for the two of you. Your core became needy. You couldn’t stop yourself from lifting one of your legs, wrapping it around the Commander’s hips, bringing them even closer than before.

“More… Please, more.” You muttered under your breath, begging Hange to feed your core’s hungriness. Oh, how your sweet begging and your desperate moans drove them wild; the Commander was more than happy to comply with your request. Their movement was painfully slow as they pushed the delicate fabric of your underwear to the side, finally letting their fingers come into contact with your bare skin. Hange teased you ever so slightly as they dragged their fingers down your slit, covering them in your slick.

And before you knew it, a finger entered your needy core.

“Is this what you wanted, my dear?” The Commander’s breath tickled your ear as they whispered, their finger thrusting into you. You could only gasp at the sensation, bringing your hands up from their idle position to venture into Hange’s messy hair, tugging and combing through it. It was Hange’s turn to let out a soft moan at the sensation, your touch sending sparks down their spine.

“The way you’re sucking me in, it’s driving me crazy.” They whispered, their voice raspy with desire. An empowering rush of confidence overtook you as you allowed your hand to trail down Hange’s body, slowly moving until coming to a halt at the bulge of their pants. The bold move sent a thrill through you, the touch of your hand against their evident arousal filled you with a sense of excitement. The Commander let out a gasp as they felt your hand press against their core, the unexpected feeling ignited a sudden wave of heat and desire that coursed through their body. The intimate touch sent a shockwave of sensations around their body, their body responding instinctively to your caress by leaning into your touch, they felt every ounce of restraint slipping away.

Hange moaned your name as their eyes darkened, not being able to hold back, they entrapped your lips into a searing, messy kiss while adding a digit inside of you. It was sloppy, yet you were trying to memorize the feeling of Hange’s lips on yours. The warmth of the hand that was once softly caressing the skin of your jaw now left it unattended, while suddenly entrapping both of your hands together. Without warning, the feeling of Hange’s fingers inside of you disappeared. You whined in protest.

“Shush darling, let’s get to the good part, shall we?”

The sound of your ruffling blouse could be heard as the Commander unbuttoned it impatiently, all while leaving scattered kisses across your neck. Finally free from the confinement, your arms wrapped around Hange’s neck as they ventured lower, continuing with lingering kisses down your body. Hange hummed ever so slightly into every kiss. With a swift move, they hoisted your legs onto their shoulders and brought you off the ground. Their hands under your thighs, they held you securely against them while guiding you towards the bed. Your back made contact with the plush blanket as Hange gently put you down, their lips trailing up to yours to meet in a tongued kiss. The Commander’s lips were now seared into your memory, their tongue dancing with yours. You let yourself sink into the mattress as Hange unbuttoned your pants, leaving your covered core in the air. You bucked your hips as they pushed their knee to your sensitive area, grinding yourself onto it to get the least bit of pleasure. Admiring the view, Hange swiftly undid the last buttons of their blouse before tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. The warmth of their hands returned to your body as they ever-so-slightly lifted your back off of the bed to unclasp your bra, revealing your breasts. Your hands covered your sensitive buds as the cold air hit them before being pried away.

“Don’t be shy, love, we’re already past the point of no return,” The Commander whispered greedily. Before you knew it, Hange’s mouth was latched onto one of your breasts, sucking and twisting your bud with their tongue as their hands worked around your panties, slipping them off of you while you were too exhilarated from the new sensation.

Your eyes trailed Hange’s now naked body when they finally removed their garments, revealing their pretty bust and their needy cock that leaked precum. Joining you on the bed, Hange gently lifted your leg, their lips began a soft trail of pecks up your body until you were face to face. Honey-brown eyes bore into yours, searching for hesitation.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“This isn’t very professional,” You said in a teasing tone before instantly regretting your choice of words.

“To hell with professionalism.” They muttered in a ragged voice before entering you without warning. Your pussy sucked in Hange’s cock as if it was built just for them. Soft moans of your name left their lips at the sensation. Each one of their thrust made their cock explore a new cove of your core, making your hips buck every time. Your hands cramped up as you gripped the sheets before you tangled them into Hange’s dishevelled hair. You hadn’t expected the Commander to fuck as if possessed, their thrusts were rough yet relieving to your neediness. Sweet nothings kept spewing out of their mouth as you moaned; you could barely hear yourself over the sound of your skin slapping.

“So good, so good,” Hange muttered frantically as they buried their face in the crook of your neck, the feeling of their breath tickling your skin added to the many sensations you were feeling. It was almost overwhelming. Hands now holding onto their back, you clung onto them, nails digging ever so slightly into their skin. The Commander's soft grunts kept resonating in your ears.

Your walls began clenching around Hange’s cock, your breath becoming more and more ragged. Each trust sent waves of pleasure through you, you couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, I needed you so badly.” They mumbled as their elbows came to rest beside your head. “You look so pretty, getting fucked like this, my dear”

You let out a lewd moan as Hange’s thrusts became rougher, you could tell by how their cock quivered inside of you that they were close. With a limp move of the hand, the Commander brought your legs to their waist. You held them tight with your wrapped legs, letting their cock access you deeper. Each thrust, groan, and squeeze threatened to push you over the deep end. Hange overtook you, you let it happen.

“Inside me, please… Hange,” You said in multiple breaths as your walls began quivering around their member. They gasped loudly at the sensation while letting out a cuss.

Stumbling over your breaths, you became undone on the Commander’s cock. Legs quivering and nails digging into their skin, you moaned Hange’s name over and over again as they fucked you through your high before they plunged deep inside of you for their last thrust, filling you up with their cum.

Slowly, Hange slipped out of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

A smirk appeared as their eyes examined your now fucked-out body, as well as the soft white that escaped your hole, spilling onto the sheets. Hange was admiring their work of art.

With a lingering kiss on your temple, the Commander let their body fall beside you with a squeak of the bed. “Let’s get some sleep now, my dear,”

“You’re such an idiot,” You chuckled before snuggling into their arm tiredly.

#hange x reader #attack on titan #aot #smut #hange zoe #hange zoe x you #hange zoe smut #hange zoe x reader #hange x you #hange x y/n #hange aot

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chris-hallelujah · 3 months ago

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PopStar!Reader x BF!Matt head cannons

Word Count: 460 words (super short I'm sorry!!)

A/N: I have seen the pop star!reader concept floating around a good bit lately, but all ideas are my own and I do not consent to anyone posting this on another platform. Go check out @sleepysturn for her singer!reader content <3

-- Billie

Matt who is dating pop star reader and...

Attends almost every one of your concerts.

Matt definitely attends all of your California and New England shows. He also is at any other show he can make work with his schedule. There is nothing he loves more than watching you shine on stage doing what you love. He also will throw out t shirts and merch into the crowd before you go on stage.

Wants all the focus on you.

Since you and Matt started dating, it was bound to happen that there would be overlap with your fan bases. It isn't uncommon for fans to be watching and recording him at your concerts. He has been recorded multiple times waving to fans and pointing to you on stage, "Don't look at me, look at her! She's doing so good!"

Protects you from paparazzi.

Matt knows how overwhelming the paparazzi can be. He always has your hand or has his arm around you as you weave your way through the flashing cameras (think Taylor and Travis). He'll use his jacket to block their shots or flip them off to give them shots they can't use on days that you feel particularly overwhelmed. You used to walk around with security all of the time, but now you have Matt.

Is in your top Spotify listeners.

Matt's Spotify wrapped is literally just your songs over and over. He always has your music on in the background. He plays your music when he streams so more people can hear you. And for the songs you wrote for him??? Forget about it, he can't get enough of it. Chris and Nick love your music too but even if they didn't they would know all of the words from Matt playing it so much.

Supports you like nobody else.

Matt can often be seen wearing your merch. When you're up for an award, Matt is constantly sharing the voting link to get people to support you. You're in the peak of your career and he couldn't be more proud of you.

Is amazed by your song writing process.

You and Matt are both creative in different ways. He, obviously, flourishes in the environment of content creation, but isn't musical. You on the other hand, are not as good at coming up with video ideas, but you play multiple instruments. Matt will sit and watch you write new songs, absolutely enchanted by how you do it with such ease. Without you knowing, he will record as you work through different lyrics and rhythms. He also loves when you ask for his opinion. He knows how important your music is to you and the fact that you trust him enough to ask for his thoughts melts his heart.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicholas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matt stuniolo fanfic

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mysticheathenn · 9 months ago

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Why Are You Ugly? Your Traits, Habits, Etc...

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card is really just for fun. Please don't take most of what is here seriously unless it resonates. This is just to show some of your features or traits that others deem unattractive. Again this is meant to be fun and not a dig at you..unless you like shit like that then by all means do you.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Pile l:

Tarot: 5 of Swords, 5 of Cups / Strength (reversed), 2 of Swords

Pile l others find you "ugly" because you are a coward who lack direction in their life. The phrase from the movie Clueless "You're a virgin who can't drive" just popped into my head. Not only that but you like to cry wolf while also not doing anything with your life. Ex. "I'm so lazy, a fatass, etc" but then you continue to scroll on TikTok and not apply yourself in areas of your life you want to change. You may also like to point fingers at other people whenever something doesn't happen the way you want it to go and blame everyone else except for the matter for what it is, sometimes yourself.

Oracle: Talent/Dreams (Reversed), Life Purpose The TikTok meme "You are looking so cute doing ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING GET YOUR ASS UP. GET YOUR ASS UP." For those who don't know the meme here is the link to the original video: http://tinyurl.com/3fa4xth2

Pile ll:

Tarot: 3 of Swords / The Magician / 6 of Swords (All Reversed), 5 of Pentacles.

The only thing you like to let go of is money pile ll. Anything else in your life you like to hold onto especially toxic people and grudges and sometimes for no dam reason. Someone could step on your 5-year-old shoes and say sorry but because they stepped on your shoe you're out for revenge...okay maybe some of you may not be that petty but you still like to hold grudges and then wonder why no one or barely anyone is in your life...it's because you let people go for breathing wrong pile ll. Someone says your name in a tone you aren't familiar with, blocked. Someone didn't bring you food even though you said you weren't hungry, block. Again maybe not this crazy for some of you but you get it. You may have also been attracted a bit to pile one because you also don't like to do sh*t with your life and when you do decide to do sh*t with your life if it doesn't happen fast enough for you, you give up as if everything is supposed to bend you to your will when, where, and how you want it.

Oracle: Prosperity/Love (reversed), Trust

There's a lyric to a song that I can't think of but the song part that is playing in my head is "That's why you believe in lies..."...I wish I knew the song but that is the only part of it that keeps playing with no melody in my head. Learn to trust...not only yourself but others and love yourself. Let love in your life without treating everything like a checklist or transaction. Also, stop overspending, pick up a Financial literacy book or course and learn how to save, plan, and budget your money properly.

Pile lll:

Tarot: Death, 8 of Wands, The Fool, Knight of Wands

Pile lll your trait that others may deem "ugly/unappealing" isn't so much of a bad thing. you were probably told when you were younger that you always were "Acting fast" or if not people as an adult tell you all the time that you are always on the move as if you are on the run. You can't sit still maybe you have or deal with ADHD. Every time you get a new idea, or opportunity, or you see something that could possibly get you ahead in life you are on it and you never think about whether this is the right move for you? Is this opportunity legit? or anything else substantial that you need to make sure that you land safely, if not safely at least have a parachute when you jump. You may also move from job to job similar to pile ll anytime you see even a milligram of bullsh*t you are out of there. "Miller when you are done running and want to make a home, make it with me." Book Quote from the book Caught Up by Liz Tomforde (love that book) it's about a female who is always on the run and she does a favor for her dad and nanny one of his teammate's son and when they start falling for each other he says that to her. I am getting this is more so from your higher self pile lll. When you are done running from your past, inner thoughts, poverty, chasing gimmicks, and temporary people go back to yourself and actually see what exactly do you want to do, what is your purpose, what is something you can build for your life that is stable and secure than these fleeting moments you keep trying to create for yourself. Some of you may be either in situationships that you hate or like to have a lot of flings only to feel lonely afterward.

Oracle: Boundaries, Life Purpose, Compassion

This goes back to the quote in your reading pile lll. Stop running from yourself and the things you really want vs the things you chase.... I may do a reading on this let me know if you want that or not. Either way show yourself more compassion and place boundaries on yourself not others. You have no problem in that department for a lot of you but others you need boundaries for yourself and others.

REMEMBER THIS IS MEANT TO BE A FUN READING AND NOT AN ATTACK.

Thank you to everyone who are subscribed to my Patreon and those who like and reblog my pick-a-card readings. I always appreciate you. I hope you enjoyed this reading.

Until next time, stay safe and blessed.

#tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot cards #witchblr #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #tarot reading #pick a photo #pick a picture

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aineryeo · 4 months ago

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The Legend of the Blue Sea Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time

Chapter Synopsis: The second time Kenji Sato met you was during his junior year of high school. Newly transferred and still getting started on being varsity for the baseball team, he overhears his high school crush talk trash about him. Determined to get back at them, he convinces you, the girl who managed to smack him mid-run with a whiteboard, to be his fake girlfriend for 7 days.

In present time, Kenji and Mina discover how to wake the sleeping beauty up from the magic needle. But when this finally happens, Kenji now has to deal with the realisation that the princess... was a gremlin.

Themes & Warnings (Chapter):

Author Notes:

I had to cut Episode 3 to two parts because I kept wondering why I'm taking so long to write but then I scanned the chapter and realised I was going 11k and there was still a hefty chunk left from the outline 😭 It took a while to flesh everything out since I spent the past week also adding more details to the other chapters to deepen the flavours 🫴🤌 This is still fluff but the next part is where things start going on the jealous and angst start, the fairytale era bout to transition out!!!

I also found a really cool song that pairs with the theme of the high school memory, it's linked on the title! It's super fitting the vocals are amazing aghhjjr!!

The Legend of the Blue Sea: Masterlist

Episode 3.1: Maybe This Time ⇾ Episode 3.2: Fish on Land

Westwood Academy, otherwise known as Westwood University, situated in Los Angeles, is one of the many renowned schools along the state. It hosts preschool to elementary to high school up ‘til college. It's one of the major league schools but is typically known for its.. extravagant prices. Often, along with a list of other universities, they allow for student exchange programs for exceptional scholars, selected around the world, to tour the litter of schools’ labs, attend special classes, or participate in small collaborative projects. Most of it was to allow these one in a million group of children to choose between potential university options.

Of course, even though this prestigious academy offered a massive field for different types of sports and had a pretty amazing reputation for its academic endeavours, for a guy like Kenji Sato, he knew that in the future, he’ll be transferring to the University of Los Angeles, where most athletes start to get drafted into the Major League Baseball drafts.

But that’s not the reason why he’s bursting his way through the halls right now, no.

Kenji’s running down the hallways because he stayed up too late last night trying to perfect his swing so he can finally get off the bench and play as one of their schools’ main batters. However, it definitely did not help that he spent the days prior studying for his exams too. And now, he slept through majority of his classes, waking up only to find out that in T-minus ten minutes, his Biology class will start, and he’s not too keen on facing the wrath of his teacher chastising him for that Plant Growth Experiment they’ve been rambling on and on about for the past three weeks.

“Out of the way!” Kenji dashes, jumping to avoid the group of students in the hall sitting.

“Sorry, in a rush—”

“Woah, watch those burgers, man.”

So far, he’s been barreling through the hallways great. It’s almost like his athletic instincts are on the high, the adrenaline pumping through his veins being the apt proof needed.

Jump, duck, dash, side, shwuck!

Kenji can see it, the greenhouse! It’s so close— But the sudden options in his head turn from swerving left, or jumping, to… (a) Crash right into this person rolling out a whiteboard all of a sudden in the middle of the hall without even looking at any passersby, or (b) CRASH but in capital.

The next few seconds, safe to say, were unpleasant.

“Shit, shit, shit!!!” Kenji yells, unable to stop his momentum, all but perfectly rams his face on to the rolling whiteboard.

Overcome with blaring pain on his forehead and nose, Kenji laid on the ground, chest uncomfortably resting on the similarly thrown down whiteboard who was unable to withstand his force. A myriad of groans and repeating ow’s overtook the once silent air. The sound of padding footsteps and a bleary voice soon adds on.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Kenji’s vision was blurry, still trying to adjust to his surroundings, eyes squinting and blinking as he realised that even his torso felt sore from the impact.

“Ugh…”

Suddenly, he feels gentle hands turning him over, pulling him away from the fallen board beneath him, albeit with some difficulty.

“God, you’re heavy.” He hears, moments before feeling his head plop down on pillowy skin.

Soon, his vision adjusts itself, enough so he can see the person holding him by the cheeks right now. And boy, when Kenji says he never felt like his anger dissipated so fast like a balloon deflating upon seeing your face, you best believe him.

“I think you'll be forming a bruise right here,” You say, all furrowed brows as you turn his face side to side.

“Oh no, your nose is bleeding now.”

Feeling your soft hold on him disappear, Kenji, all clad in his disarrayed highschool uniform, watches as you try to check your pockets for a handkerchief.

He watches you for a good minute or two trying to figure out where you placed your damned handkerchief, or so you say. Groaning as he picks himself back up, supporting his weight from the back, he distantly hears you say ah! Before he felt you practically shove the thing in his face.

“Here! To wipe your… blood.” You say awkwardly, the bell had rung a minute ago while Kenji thought it was just the ringing in his ears, the more desolate surroundings proved otherwise. He gracefully accepts your offer, lightly tapping the fabric on his nose that gladly did not crook from the impact. Still, it hurt.

You stood up to get the empty whiteboard back on its feet as Kenji stayed seated on the ground in the middle of the hallway that led to the greenhouse. There were no words spoken as both you and him got your bearings.

At least I got a good excuse to miss Biology now. Kenji randomly thinks as he sighs.

But it isn’t until he hears distant footsteps and voices did his instincts rear in. In hindsight, there was probably no reason for him to have felt so nervous to get caught or anything, it’s not like his nose bleed was fake to not garner a visit to the infirmary. Even so, he felt nervous to get caught. Enough to haphazardly drag you inside the room you came in, bringing the whiteboard along before the door slammed closed. Getting into trouble was not in his to-do list today, not after almost getting into a fight with a basketball player last week.

Your handkerchief was lying on the floor, the surprisingly soft hands of the boy you just met were muffling your surprised yelps with his palm, the other hand shushing you, his pointer finger pressing to his own lips. When the voices come closer, Kenji finally realises that it wasn’t a teacher that was walking towards them. It was his first crush ever since he transferred in Los Angeles when he was 8.

“So, are you going to respond to Ken-Ken anytime soon, Ash?” A litter of giggles follow as Kenji felt the heat rising up to his ears from the embarrassing nickname.

“Stoppp, you know I have to be nice because I’m class rep.” Ashley whines, stomping her foot and stopping just in front of the door of the classroom where you and Kenji hid. The action made you and him duck to the floor, nervous to get caught.

“Have you seen his eyebags lately? He looks horrible! I can’t believe he even asked for my help with Chemistry earlier, seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?”

"I know, right? And what’s with his accent? It’s like, get over yourself. He tries too hard sometimes. That’s probably why he’s just benched in the baseball team." Her friend snickers.

"And don’t get me started on his lunches. So gross!" Another one pipes in. “He eats raw fish and even eggs sometimes. Eugh…” She lurches.

Kenji hears a sigh, before the familiar voice of Ashley cuts through her friends. “Anyway, let’s go finish fetching the plants,”

“Didn’t Ken-Ken forget his project?”

“Talk about going against his nature, haha.”

The whole conversation made his shoulders and hands drop once their footsteps disappear. His demeanour immediately went from running through the halls to lying on the floor, and this time, it’s not because of a rolling whiteboard. Kenji sighs as he sits back on the floor, hands behind him as he looked up, the classroom was relatively dark, it was one of the extras, after all. His eyes close as he breathes in heavily, contemplating; ignoring the continuous trickle of red down his chin.

You, on the other hand, were perplexed. But seeing the situation, you can guess at least that much. After all, you were entering college at the ripe age of fifteen. In a tongue that Kenji hadn’t heard in a long time aside from phrases from his mom, you spoke. Quietly. Afraid to topple the fragile pieces that was the boy you just met.

“Was that you they were talking about?” You get the forgotten handkerchief on the floor, dried blood on some parts as you try to pat the dust away.

Kenji’s eyes open. And they meet yours. Worried yet curious, shimmering orbs, and gentle delicate hands that dabbed on his nose.

“Yeah.” He replies meekly, forgoing the language his peers spoke in, now matching yours. He didn't miss a beat in his language class, and his mom would definitely chastise him if he didn't know how to speak his mother tongue at all.

You give him a lopsided smile. “It would have been really awkward if you didn’t speak Japanese.”

Kenji chuckles at this. “Had doubts? What, not Japanese enough for you?”

You hum. “Does it matter? Being enough of one or the other.”

“...Well, no..”

Kenji huffs, laying on his back. “But it sure would make my life a hell of a lot easier.”

“Laying down isn’t good if you’re having a nose bleed.” You frown, about to reach down so you can pinch his nose.

As Kenji rummages through his brain, talking about how love, even though it was only a minor crush, absolutely sucks; his mind runs over what you said.

Nose bleed…

Then like a lightbulb; a sudden, stupid idea pierces through his blinded teenage head as he grabs your wrist and sits upright.

“You gave me this nose bleed.” Kenji starts, pointing to said appendage. And you were about to apologise, but he continues far too fast. “So, you have to do something for me.”

“What? Isn’t my handkerchief and recommendation to go to the infirmary not enough?”

“Wasn’t the one hogging the middle of the hallway.”

“Well I wasn’t the one running in the hallway. Section 5.8 of your school’s student handbook said no running in the halls.”

“Your sch—” Kenji’s eyes drift down to see that you aren’t wearing the standard uniform for the academy. Instead, you were in civilians. “Ohhhh,”

“Hah, can’t believe an exchange scholar like me know more than a veteran.”

“Never said I was a veteran.” Kenji shrugs. “And even if I was, what kind of normal person just rolls out a big whiteboard without looking outside?”

And just like that, it felt like there was some sort of.. mischievous jazz in the background, the words kept coming out, and out. Your arms and his start crossing, and you both inch closer and closer, with every retort.

“Have you ever heard of speed limits? You should stop dreaming about getting a driver’s licence at this point, Sir.”

“Getting this show on the road, huh? Well… ever heard of mid-lane hogging, Ma’am?”

“Oh? Did you just use an idiom literally? Cheesy.” You roll your eyes.

“Actually, that was a double entendre. I used it literally, and as intended. Too bad my ingenuity went over your head. Aren’t you supposed to be one of those exchange scholars? Did they get you mixed up with someone else?”

“I wish ingenuity was an antonym for genius right now.” You shake your head with a faux frown.

“Running out of fuel? ‘Cause that was pretty lame.” Kenji harrumphs, not noticing his nose bleed had stopped minutes ago. “Admit it. Your car crashed.”

“Is it my fault if your car crashed into mine?”

“Flat tire.”

Huh?

What was he— your eyes follow his, and it stares from your chest, back to your eyes. Still confused, something Kenji is quickly able to notice, he repeats what he said with a smirk.

“I said… you’re a.. Flat. Tire.”

Realising where he was going, you felt blood boil up to your head as your hand begins to raise. “Ohoh! You monster! I’ll give you more than a nose bleed when I’m done with you—!”

“I’d be… flat-tered.” Kenji pipes up one more time.

You were not flat! You were just… a late bloomer! That’s it!

Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had no qualms with your chest at all, no. And you were definitely not lacking in that department. He just thought that it was a metaphor for someone being so damn… disagreeable. It wasn’t his fault that your shirt was pulling down and he spared but a minute glance.

In all honesty, both of you, stuck in that moment, forgot what you were arguing about in the first place. When your hand was about to land smack on his cheek, he grabs it and pulls you closer to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Come on, help a victim out. We’ll just be giving them… something else to talk about.”

You did not know why you’d agreed to this.

But you did.

“No, no. Absolutely not! Plus, I’m not even popular or something, what statement are you really making there?”

“Well… you’re really pretty.”

He was incredibly insistent, and you felt like you owed him even though you gave him your handkerchief because it had his blood on it. Definitely not because your brain fried when he casually called you pretty with such an earnest face, like arguing would not even make sense to him. You would’ve called him dumb, stupid, or… or something! If he wasn’t speaking so smoothly earlier. Clearly, he does his homework and then some.

At the time, while he decided to skip Biology to head to the clinic with you in tow, you got to know each other just a little bit. Your new.. friend, knew that you’ll be going back to Japan in a few days, so he had to be bold to really make his statement. The stakes were low, and the rewards, at least for Kenji, could be high; enough to save face and show everyone that he does not care about the squeaky class representative.

Kenji preferred to speak to you in Japanese so that only few, if not anyone, could really overhear what you two were talking about.

Eventually, you really had to go and promised to meet in front of the empty classroom where you two hid the morning next day, when your group would have to do some collaborative projects.

And when you separate and return back… Imagine your group, mixed with different ethnicities, academic nukes as you would like to call them, sees you with no whiteboard in hand after being gone for almost an hour or two… embarrassing.

Even more so, when he comes to school the next day, not even waiting to go to your designated meeting location so he can hug you in the middle of their field, catching your group off guard. He’d talk to you and call you a slew of nicknames, most notably…

“Sweetheart! Got you some sandwiches that my mom made. Wanna go eat lunch together at the cafeteria?” Emphasis on the cafeteria, his thick brows wiggling at the word.

He’d hold your hand, and if there was free time for his practices and your little assigned activities, he’d be sitting next to you by the bleachers as you read through the material your temporary mentors recommended. He was sweaty, and he’d be gasping for air, but a wide grin was on his face as he told you he’d stolen so many bases this time. And that he’d hit a few good home runs, how he’ll definitely get a spot on the main team today, all before his coach would call him back with a loud, stern voice.

“Sato!”

He’d leave, yes. But not before he gives you a kiss on the cheek before waving you off as he jogs backwards with a stupid grin.

“What’re you reading?” Kenji would ask.

You’d look up from the cafeteria table, and he’s leaning closer to you to try and get a read in.

“Advanced Robotics: Pioneering Techniques and Applications by Robert Callaghan.” You reply, not missing a beat in your reply.

Kenji would whistle and then proceed to sit beside you as he takes out his lunch. A bento box.

“Want to do a lunch switch? I always wanted to do that.” He asks with puppy eyes matched with a big smile, hands clasped together as he pleaded.

“And I loveee curry!” He adds on.

You notice that he was easy to change demeanours when it came to you. Whether it was because you were from Japan too, or because he knew you'd be leaving, allowing for him to continue acting how he wants to without any true repercussions— you.. would never know.

You smile before sighing out a sure after popping out a deal that he had to buy you ice cream after though, to which he hollers and fist bumps the air as you exchange boxes with an eager face.

You’ll both be in sync when you pick the food with your chopsticks, sighing out a satisfied puff of air while both your cheeks were lathered with the comforting flavour of home.

He never asked for your number. But he’ll wait out of the lecture rooms you’d be in that day, saying he’s just asking the teachers around where the scholars were so he can rush over; offering to carry your bag and walk in step with you.

All in the name of getting back at his ex-crush, of course.

And every time he catches a glimpse of the angered look on his ex-crush, he attunes it to the blooming joy in his chest when he glances back at you, going on a rant about how no, they should have planned the encoding before building the robot. So now, we lost!

You’ll feel a ruffle on your head and a laugh from the taller boy beside you.

Then, you’ll arrive to the front gates. Kenji standing still as you say: “You don’t have to act here anymore, you know? I doubt anyone’s watching anymore.”

Kenji clears his throat, coughing a little, avoiding your gaze. “Well… You might get kidnapped for all I know. I won’t have a sweetheart by then, wouldn’t I?”

“Pfft.” You fail to conceal the bubbling laughter from your throat.

“You’re cheesy as hell,” You tease back, taking your clasped hands away from his so you can lean sideways as you grin. “...sweetheart.”

Kenji could barely get a stuttered reply out before the familiar black car that was from the exchange program drives you to your shared hotel with the other scholars and professors. That day, and the following would go by the same. With him simply giving a lame wave off before the escort drives you away.

All until you finally had to return to Japan; your last day. Like clockwork, however, even on your last day, Kenji would walk with you to the front gates. His steps slow every second, and you would mirror him, you’d go slower, and slower, and even more so; still, you arrive at the front doors.

When Kenji placed a heavy hand to open them, it revealed a slew of raindrops falling from the stormy sky.

“Ah, it wasn’t raining earlier.” Kenji notes. “Got to practise and everything…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Really? Seems like it’s been going on a while.” You appraise quietly, Kenji only hums in reply.

Like the rain falling in the sky, there was a heavy downpour that neither of you could ever place in the meagre age of highschool, even if you were advancing to college much faster.

“So, you’re going back to Japan today?”

“Yup.” You awkwardly reply as you sway on your feet. Back and forth. “Still have to actually graduate high school before picking my college, you know?”

And it’s quiet again as you both try to think of what to say. It was only a week, and yet… Kenji had never had such a true friend since he moved to Los Angeles when he was a young kid.

“Well, if you wanna see me again, since I know you’ll miss me— oof.” You punch his chest lightly, making him puff out air, as you both eventually chuckle.

“Who says I’ll miss you? You just coerced me into getting chummy with you. Never again.” You huff, crossing your arms and raising your chin indignantly.

“All I’m saying is… if you pick a university close by, I’ll be at ULA soon. I’ll get into the Dodgers for sure.” He’s told you this in one of your many little conversations. The University of Los Angeles, home of the LA Dodgers and the Dodger Stadium.

You look at him and you share a genuine smile as the breeze from the rain sends a peculiar sparking chill down both your spines.

“Sure. I’ll come visit when I’m nearby… hopefully.” You trail off.

Even with the laughter and the once more inevitable silence, there was always something on the tips of yours and Kenji’s tongue. Something to say, some things to ask. And yet, you ball on your feet and he thinks of letting go of your hand that he realises he was clasping too tightly in an embrace with his own fingers.

However, when the recurring black car arrives, you let go before he does, as you dashed through the rain. You turn back, and Kenji’s watching from the safety of the school entrance as you get drenched even though you try to put your bag over your head.

You want to say something, anything. Yet all you could do is give a solemn wave and a smile.

He waves back and you turn away to jog closer to your ride back home, a few steps away from the gate, form stilling as you contemplate getting into the car.

You glance back, and he’s turned away, walking deeper into the school, probably so he won’t get wet. And your mouth opens, but it says nothing; calls out no one.

Your eyes flit to the black car; one last chance.

You can’t help it. You want to tell him more.

You want to tell him how you wish him luck on his career, maybe wish he could find better friends, find a better girl to crush on— and you turn back, one last time, words burning on the tip of your tongue.

But it dies down when your vision meets a familiar uniform.

Kenji’s chest, heaving, as you both get wet in the onslaught of the rain; his hand on your wrist, willing you to stop, as he opens and closes his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue; unknowingly mirroring each other in ways you barely had the time to think about after spending only seven days within each other’s presence.

But before you could even squeak out a word, you feel his bigger hands wrap around your now cold cheeks, and in no time…

His warm, soft lips on yours.

Your eyes close, following his tilted head as your hands reach up to hold the hands caressing and holding your face in place. It felt like a sun in the rain, unlike anything you’ve ever felt; and it distantly reminds you of an old childish memory back in the old playground in Odaiba before you and your brothers had to move away to your Aunt’s cafe.

It felt like an eternity of your inexperienced lips melding into each other, and suddenly all too fleeting when you finally pull apart. The honking of the horn from your driver finally takes you both out of your trance. The sudden shattering of the scenario made you glance back to the school entrance, where Kenji’s crush, the reason why you started all of this with him, was standing and watching; and suddenly, you feel your heart pull back the same way that you pulled your body away from him, lightly pushing his chest away.

“I’ll see you.” You whisper, a hint of sadness that Kenji picked up on too late; eyes trained on your similarly drenched figure rushing to the front seat of your escort.

He was too dazed, trying to sculpt the image of his first kiss into his brain. That is, if he forgoes the girl who kissed him when he was seven.

“Good luck, Jiji! I’ll see you.” You wave with a forcibly mischievous tone, as if you didn’t feel anything from that kiss, you close the door to the black car whose engine was finally preparing to take off from the high school.

Kenji stands there, wordless, ears red not just from the kiss, but now from that… cute nickname.

“I’ll… see you.” He replies, raising his hand weakly, not caring if the rain still poured heavily on him.

It took a minute after the car left did he realise.. Wait, what was her name again?

“Wait. She knows my name. She knows my name—?” He must be the stupidest guy alive for not even asking anything about you… your number, or… or, or your damn name.

Kenji grasps his hair, berating himself inside for his stupid decisions. Of course, you know! He never asked yours because he resorted to calling you those cheesy pet names. He didn't think it would matter.

But then he kissed you and now, suddenly, he knows it matters so much.

Fuck.

Fuck!

The car was already driving away, and— and Ashley, who seemingly came out of nowhere for Kenji Sato whose mind was only running with thoughts of you and his stupidity, was talking about something, something getting her jealous and she knows, and—

Kenji doesn’t get to hear the rest of her statement as he begins running into the rain, trying to not lose sight of the car where you sat. Neither you whose face was currently buried in your hands, willing yourself to forget of the meaningless kiss, nor the driver who was focusing on the road ahead, was able to see the boy trying to catch up as the engine simply revs faster along the empty road.

He borrowed a bicycle just laying on the sidewalk, the owner, who looked away for a second, yelling at him.

“I’ll give it back, I promise!” Kenji yells as he tries to pedal through the storm like his life depended on it.

As he rides through the rain, he tries to yell after the car. “Wait, sweetheart, come back!”

“I didn’t do it because of her, I—” He heaves, losing his breath and feeling cold as the car goes faster, the rain falling heavier in turn; rumbles of thunder following suit.

I didn’t kiss you because she was there. Was what he wanted to say.

Could we keep in touch? Was what he wanted to ask.

Please pick a university close by. Was what he wanted. Really, really wanted. From you.

Kenji pedals harder, his muscles burning as he pushes against the heavy downpour. He can see the car’s taillights glowing dimly in the distance. He’s gaining on it. Just a little more…

“Sweetheart!” He yells out, his voice barely audible over the roaring storm. For a moment, he thinks he sees the car slow down, as if you heard him. His heart leaps with hope. He pushes harder, the distance between him and the car shrinking.

But just as he gets within a few yards of the car, it speeds up again, the taillights growing fainter. Kenji’s legs are screaming in protest, his lungs burning from the effort. He’s so close, yet so far.

He reaches out a hand, as if he could touch the car, as if he could make you hear him. But the rain obscures his vision, and the car speeds away, disappearing into the distance.

Kenji finally stops running, the bicycle falling to the ground as he bends over, trying to catch his breath. He’s soaked to the bone, every part of him aching, but the worst pain is in his chest.

In the distance, the car disappeared from view, taking you along with it.

“Sweetheart…” he whispers to himself, feeling the sting of regret seeping into his being.

Even with all his developing athletic might, Kenji Sato, who was still barely entering the cusps of his future stardom, could not catch up to his first crush. Thoughts forever unvoiced to the person that mattered enough for him when he was still a junior in high school.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was hard.

Kenji’s day would start at around 5 AM, and end… its end was dependent, really. He would feed the baby, research more about kaiju, study whatever form or strategy Coach Shimura would give, clean the baby's poop, entertain her, and generally stop her from lashing out. Then train and look stupid in this season's games because he wasn't getting some apt sleep. Sometimes it was paranoia that the baby would cry or need something, most of the time it's because the baby did cry and needed something.

Aside from his baseball, baby, and Ultraman responsibilities, there still was the unknown variable that was… well, you.

The half-kaiju human.

The giant mermaid.

You were silent a lot of the time, and often it would pass in Kenji's mind that you were either a ghost or a living fairytale. Maybe a witch cursed you and took away your voice, or maybe a witch cursed you and forced you to sleep for long periods of time. Because after you.. took that ice bath with him, you laid still in bed for the next two days.

Kenji would thank the damn heavens when you were awake, even for just a day before you slumbered for abnormal periods of time again. Whenever you were awake, the baby would be easier to tend to. Less hungry, more happy; she'll make grabby for you when you go down, and you’ll lay there, your head on the glass container as that familiar tune keeps the baby in a state of calm for the rest of the day. Often, you would forget to go back to the bedroom and Kenji would come home, sweaty from ball practice to see you asleep in the basement, the giant kaiju baby curled up where you were. Those were the days when you’d wake up when he wasn't home.

When you did wake up and he was home? Well, let's just say that Kenji… could never complain. He’ll get shit from his team and his Coach, but then he's home early that day and you just happen to be awake? You're bounding to him like a magnet on a metal pole. A warmth blanketing his chest, enough to let him sigh out his grievances for the day as he opens the front door and sees your happy face.

He may not understand what he's doing to make you feel overjoyed, but he'll take it. He’ll take it, like how he takes your simple pleas for a hug, like how he takes your face burying into his neck. And he’ll take your open arms, willing him to lay down in bed with you when all things are done, your hands combing through his hair as you coo the familiar sounds of the ocean in his ear. Maybe that's the reason why he’d always carry you back to his room when you fell asleep with Baby even though the guest room had been available for a while now.

“I have now gathered 3 weeks worth of data on the woman, Ken. Would you like the analysis?”

Ah.

Kenji grogs his way up from his bed, your arms back to laying limply, sliding down his naked torso; he preferred sleeping with no shirt on, and he would have been more embarrassed sleeping with a girl he didn't know if he wasn't sure that you were just.. an affectionate creature, person— still figuring that part out.

“Sure, go ahead, Mina.” He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he slouches on his mattress.

“Her last steady transformation into her kaiju form was the time when you took an ice bath with her. A significant difference in her injuries were found compared to her injuries the day before. However, it seemed to have slowed majorly since. Her body seems to prioritise external and surface-level injuries, however as is, she is having trouble truly healing her leg fractures in kaiju form. What I have gathered from my scans is that her severe tail fracture presents differently, or rather, not at all when she inevitably transforms back into her half-human self. She has attempted transformation a couple of times when in proximity of the baby, all of which only lasted less than 3 minutes.”

Kenji nods, taking it all in. However, he can't help but snort when the thought pops in his head. “So, what? I should take a bath with her again and see if that makes it better?”

The robot remains silent, and Kenji basks in the awkward bliss of forgetting that Mina is not exactly programmed to be the best buddy in terms of jokes landing.

“If you wish so, Ken.”

Kenji sputters at this, but he realises he might have been too loud as he looks back. Though futile, considering the information he just heard, you would probably be asleep for days even if he screamed all he wanted, considering your everlasting affection for him last night; the pattern was undeniable. The reminder of your comforting caresses sends an involuntary.. pleasurable shiver down his spine.

So Kenji, in turn, whisper-yells to Mina. “It was a joke!”

“Ha-ha.”

“I should tell dad to install a comedian chip in you.” He crosses his arms. “So? What should we do? We can't have her sleep forever. If we can get her up and going, raising the baby would be ten, no, a hundred times easier! Have you seen how much the baby likes her mama?”

“While she is not her biological mother, yes, I have observed the phenomenon. My theory is that she has connections with Gigantron prior.”

This makes Kenji perk up. “Really? How’d you know?”

“She has lingering scales and residue from the passed kaiju.”

“Wait..”

“No,” Mina immediately interjects. “I’ve discretely gotten samples from her tail when she transforms; quite easy to gather due to their wide difference in colour. I believe their relations are similar to the idea of companionship. They must have been friends. Especially considering Gigantron is oviparous and that they are both Female.”

Kenji lets out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding. It was just.. an unpleasant thought. He didn't even see it as possible, considering your kaiju was a mermaid. But what did he know? That's why he was flipping textbook over textbook in hopes of understanding both you and the baby some more.

“On the course of that line of thinking, I am sure she's not taken, Ken. Rest assured. She, like Gigantron, seems to be the sole of her kind. And since she looks to be predominantly human, I doubt animals were attracted to her.”

“Okay, getting a little graphic here. I did not need to know any of that.” He shakes his head, putting his hand up towards the floating ball.

Today was a weekend, he just flunked his game again yesterday, and everything was going awful as it usually did. Until he went home and realised it was one of his lucky days. Slept like a baby last night, and today, he can sleep in because when you tuck the baby in, normal wake up time is moved. Plus, she won't fuss if Mina is to serve the school of fish for breakfast that day.

So now, as Kenji stretched his bare arms back, he looks to you and then back at Mina.

“So, how do we get her better?”

[...]

“I have deduced that water may be the primary factor in her physical healing process. Since she is waterborne, it could only be natural.” Mina explains, floating next to Kenji's shoulder as the man, dressed in only his sweats, carried you in his arms all the way to the tub in the bathroom this time.

“Alright, water makes her better.”

You, right now, kept to your iridescent appearance. However, your litter of scales and the webs between your fingers were disappearing. The only semblance left that Kenji would ever deem inhumane is how silky your skin was, much like your unusual hair, and eyes, if you opened them. His mind briefly flashes to when you got in the ice bath with him, when your features sheened a bit more natural than it usually was. A lot of questions lingered on Kenji's tongue.

“Remember when she healed me that night, Mina?”

The bot whirrs and affirms. “Yes. I remember your recount of it. Since I did not witness the act, I do not have much information. Perhaps her innate regenerative capabilities can be conducted. Did you notice anything strange at the time?”

Kenji thought hard. But who was he kidding? He went stupid the moment you dipped into the bath with him. He could've left but he didn't, not when you had him in this sort of.. chokehold. Finding himself wanting your affection, your acts of spoiling him, while he’ll have this forming desire to please you.

“...No.” He meekly replies, not really wanting to spare Mina any more details of the day; even though Kenji was sure that the AI knew he just melted into you that night the same way he would whenever you waked to coddle him and the baby… It just always seemed to work so well.

Kenji places you into the tub gently.

“Mina, one last thing before you handle the bath. Research more about my symptoms, tell me if you find anything, alright?”

“Yes, Ken.” Mina replies, allowing Kenji to walk out of the large bathroom as Mina undresses you from Kenji’s clothes, changed daily by the bot as well.

[...]

“I believe it is your body's natural response to avoid the physical pain you feel in your kaiju form.” Mina’s voice was slightly muffled by the closed door that led to the bathroom.

Kenji came barreling back in while preparing his special shake when he felt this inexplicable wrapping of panic in his chest. It's familiar, and he knows it's not his.

“Mina? What's going on?” His stern voice cuts through the whimpers and the soft cries in the bathroom.

“Ken.” Mina acknowledges his presence as his eyes dart to the tub.

You were about to transform to your kaiju. Slowly getting bigger. Kenji notices this, taking you away from the tub, as you slowly but surely developed your kaiju features with each whine from your lips.

“We gotta get her to the basement stat.” Kenji almost barks the order out, wide strides as he ran to the elevator.

“And the baby?”

“Baby will have to wait for a bit.” Kenji replies, tapping his foot as the elevator took him and Mina down. The pink kaiju still wrapped in her own self, dozing.

“Uhhh, water, right?” The elevator dings, and by now you were getting a little too big even for Kenji’s better strength. He doesn’t waste time transforming into his counterpart, allowing you to lay on his palms as you grew, and with your size, came your more prominent wounds.

“Open the water gates, Mina. And extend a platform around the window.”

By now, your tail was in full display and you size was enough for him to carry you in his arms while in Ultra. Your eyes still closed in pain as you let out soft, vulnerable cries. It grasps at Kenji’s heartstrings more than you’d ever know. Finally, Ken managed to get settled on the extended platform just on the other side of his wide underwater window, where the baby was slowly but surely rubbing her eyes awake.

“Mina, are you sure she’s okay?”

“She will become better when she is in water. It stimulates her natural DNA, she will heal faster there.” Mina assures.

Kenji nods slowly, eyes never leaving your forcefully closed ones. Your hands were clutching yours and his chest simultaneously. Looking closer across your scale-addled body, conveniently covering the swells of your breasts before lightly avoiding the area of your tummy, only to connect to your magnificent tail— that he notices only now, was bent in a slightly awkward shape. When he reaches out a hand to assess the damage, even the smallest touch made you jolt and open your eyes with downturned brows.

“Hi…” Kenji whispers. “Sorry… Uhm,” He never did call you much of anything, did he? So he blurts out the first thing that came to mind. “— Sweetheart. Did it hurt? Hm? It’s okay, you feel better here, right?”

Surprisingly, you nod, as if you understood him. The whimpers die down as you suck in a breath. Seems like you liked your little nickname.

“Good girl.” Kenji praises, and he feels that familiar blanket around his chest; joy. Oh, you liked that too? Could you actually understand? “Keep taking deep breaths, okay?”

Amidst the seawater where the island rocks and the school of fish would provide the blue atmosphere its renowned ambiance, you did something that actually did blow Kenji and quite possibly Mina’s, minds.

“Thank you.” You’d said.

Kenji would look at you, his Ultra’s glowing eyesight mixing with the bioluminescent glow of the water, aquamarine and sky blue against the monochromatic shades of blue from the once undisturbed waters.

“Kenji.” You’ll add, not breaking eyesight against the Ultra who held you close to his chest.

The man in question was speechless. Your voice catching him off guard, he’d heard it in small hums and coos, and cries— but now, you’ve actually said something. He was still unable to speak, but the yawn of the baby and the familiar shrieks as her tubby hands banged on the glass container to face you and Kenji, begging to be part of the circle.

“It seems the baby has awoken. What would you like to do, Ken?”

You notice this, and peer off his shoulder to look the baby in the eye. She pouts and cries, and your hand moves to beckon her over.

“Baby, come.” You said simply.

“Open the container, Mina, and let her out.” Kenji instructs, finally broken out of his self-induced trance.

When the AI does as it was told, the tiny pink kaiju, tiny in comparison to her step-in parents that is— had begun its steps out into the water, Kenji almost yelps as he forgot that the added extension didn’t reach the gates. Baby who didn’t know how to swim yet, made Kenji inwardly panic when she sank for even a quarter of a second. All before she seemed to be wrapped in a bubble of water that made her float all the way to both you and him, with it popping so she landed in between the closed space of yours and Kenji’s torsos.

She squeaked happily.

It was almost what one could consider a picture-perfect family moment. And Mina was sure to capture the moment in question; if not but to send it to Professor Sato. Taking a vial of a sample from the now luminescent water was also one of Mina’s agendas, which she does discreetly.

“You can talk?” Kenji asks once you three got settled, with papa being the carrier of the brunt. He's deeply fascinated.

“How?”

[...]

Two weeks had passed since Kenji and Mina found out that you were able to understand and communicate because you were listening in to both him and the AI in your sleep or the few times you’ve been awake. Since then, the routine changed up once again, now that you were more frequently awake.

You still couldn’t do complicated schedules, but there were a mix of positive and negative setbacks, as all things are. The most positive side is that you’re there now for the baby, you’re eager to learn from Mina who’d play you educational videos or give you books to read after you relearnt your basic language, of course. And life seems to be doing slightly better for Kenji now that you were truly taking on the mom role.

“Well done, Sato.” His coach grunts, arms crossed. “Your plays suddenly got better this week. Whatever you're doing, don't mess up like last times.”

Now, you might be wondering: Okay, so what's the downside?

Dishes cluttered as sounds of footsteps throttling wake Kenji up in the middle of the night. And if he hones his listening, sounds of a left-open TV show and some uncontrolled laughter was coming from the living room. He’d move his arm to pat the— you guessed it— empty space beside him.

Of course you were still up.

When your hunger bout started the same day that you began taking regular rests in the seawater platform by the basement, Kenji taught you that there was food more delicious than Baby's diet. Which was raw, slimy, uncooked, alive fish.

So, he started you with the next best thing: Sushi.

“See? Better than raw— better than live fish, right? Mmmm~” Kenji watches as you take hold of a roll cautiously, looking at him with an unsure face.

You were so enamoured by the taste. So much so, it was endearing at first. He says at first because he didn't know he just unlocked a major foodie within you. You're morbidly curious, and you have an insane appetite. Mina had to work double-time to answer all your questions once you got started on your Language lessons.

Do these little… creatures—

“Ants.” Kenji inserts for you.

“Do they have feelings? If I take away this grain of sugar, will they get angry? Sad?” Your way of speech was still… developing, clearly. You tended to speak more formally because of the educational material.

He wishes he can read your thoughts to that extent, but he’s stuck with… whatever you did right now.

Sometimes, he’d feel when you were happy, most of the time it would be when he opens the front door; your bare feet pit-a-patting on the solid ground of his private home before you jump in his arms. He’d feel when you’re sad, whenever a favourite character from whatever TV show seems to get sick, or worse, die.

Oh, he’d feel you sad, alright.

He’d have to deal with it in bed when you’re wetting the pillowcases with your tears and small sobs. Rarely does he feel you getting mad. The only other time he can remember is when he brought the baby home with him the first time.

And all those little things. The distance doesn’t seem to matter, he’ll feel a distinct mirror of what you did permeate through his chest. He won’t know from what, but he’d be left to speculate whenever Coach Shimura scolding him, or his teammates were talking behind his back for his recently shitty performance. It was a nice distraction, and since, he notices, that your most common emotion seems to be happy, it lightens him up. Wait, what was he saying again?

Aside from that, scratch a good half of what he said— if you considered your massive amounts of food intake, there was the issue of you actually eating. It was a hefty job teaching you table manners and Kenji was running out of shirts.

“Minaaaa,” Kenji calls out with an exasperated tone, bounding into the living room, hair messy and body heavy with you clinging on to his form like a backpack while giggling.

“I am running out of clothes to wear. We need to get her,” He points to you and bite his finger lightly. “—her own things.”

“Of course, Ken.”

“And you,” He jumps, and your hold around his neck tightens, much like your legs around his torso. “Get off!”

It’s a minute of Kenji trying to get you to let go of him, with you eluding his touches to the side of your stomach that he recently found out you’ve grown ticklish to.

“Ohoh, you want to make this difficult, princess?”

“But I do not want to!!! Stop!! Stop— HAHAH— Noooooo!!!”

He managed to tackle you to the couch as your laughs and heaving wheezes filled the air; not noticing that he started laughing along, hands unyielding from trying to rub over the sides of your sensitive stomach.

“Ken, I apologise for interrupting such a precious moment, but what in particular do you wish for me to order for her?”

Snapping out of his daze, he’s suddenly made aware of how he was leaning down on you; shirtless. You wore one of his dark blue long-sleeved shirts along with his boxers, shirt slightly riding up, the other slowly riding down in contrast. Your legs were loosely resting around his waist with you still looking up the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath. And when your eyes meet his, it feels like his heart jumped to his throat, his nerves getting the best of him made him immediately jump off the couch.

Kenji clears his throat, hand on his hip while turning away from you to respond to Mina who he dearly hopes does not make another comment about—

“Your temperature is rising. Shall we continue this discussion another time? You might develop a fever.”

“Aha, no, Mina.” He saves face. “I’m fine, I’m not sick. It’s just— it’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Sick? Fever?” You pipe up as you begin walking slowly towards Kenji who flinches as he senses your oncoming presence. “You are sick, Kenji? I have seen characters become sick on TV. Are you going to die? Kenji!?”

Your hands were gripping his shoulders so tightly with every word, your face scrunched in so much worry as if he had Stage 4 Cancer. You started shaking him haphazardly in your bouts.

“Answer me!”

“You are not allowed to die!”

“Come to the water with me. I must heal you. Immediately.”

Kenji, a little dazed from the back and forth of your earlier shaking, finally finds a reply when you determined that you can most likely heal him, moving to drag him to the bathroom; presumably back in the bath tub.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, sweetheart. Calm down.” Your tight grip on his hand reminds him of another fact that he and Mina has learned.

Somehow, you’re able to retain a semblance of your kaiju strength in half-human form. He finds this out in an instant when he tried to deny you ramyeon once when you were still prone to tantrums. Kenji hisses when you let go of his right wrist, his other quickly rubbing against the area on instinct.

“Oh no, did I… hurt you?” You say, timidly. A wild contrast from your earlier and regular demeanour. Another thing he noticed is that apart from you being extremely clingy with him, you.. oddly care for him; what he thinks, how he’s feeling.

Kenji sighs and pats your head right after. “No, princess, I’m all good. No bruises, see? It’s okay.” He reassures you, remembering that last time when you found out you injured him, you bawled and apologised for the whole night.

“I’m okay.” He pinches your cheek to get you to look at him, knowing that you’re beating yourself up in your head. If your sudden silence wasn’t enough of an indicator, he didn’t know what is.

“Ah, Mina, so about her stuff…” Ken starts, looking back after sensing the presence of the AI bot silently hovering behind him. “Just get her whatever essentials you think she needs and might need.”

“Got it, Ken. As for her clothes, will we have a set budget? Preferred brands?”

“You kidding? Just buy anything. Whatever’s popular these days.” Kenji shrugs as he looks down at you who was trying to dissect their conversation. He’ll look down from his shirt to your bare feet.

“Shoes, sleepwear,” Kenji tries to list.

“How about her underwear, Ken?” Okay, at this point, the robot was probably teasing him.

Kenji sputters, feeling heat crawl up to his face again. Of course, why didn’t he think of that?

“I was just about to say it, Mina.” He sassily remarks.

“Any preferred design?” Okay, at this point, the robot was definitely teasing him.

“Shut up.” He spares you a glance and you simply looked clueless. Thank God.

When screeches started to emanate from the basement, all three of you perked up. But you suddenly cut them off. “Oh! Baby!”

“I will go down.” You offered, not really giving them respite as you cheerfully jogged to the elevator.

This brings up another topic for both Kenji and Mina.

“Soon, we will be able to ask her about Kaiju Island.”

“Uhuh,”

“What are your thoughts about it, Ken?”

“I mean… it would be convenient to know the place. But even if we do, we can’t just leave the baby and her there alone. Without a mom, the baby would die.” And…

“Of course.” The bot responds with a tone that suggests she knew that Kenji wanted to say more.

“And we can’t just leave her in Kaiju Island now. It’s just— we haven’t found a case yet, and I’m still practising for baseball… you know?”

We can deal with it off season, a hidden voice within a deep compartment in his brain says.

“I perfectly understand, Ken.” Still with that cheeky tone. For a robot, Mina can get quite expressive, much to Kenji’s dismay.

Kenji groans, ignoring the bot’s teasing while running a hand through his morning hair.

“Have all her things delivered by tomorrow or as early as possible to the drop-off point so I can pick it up in my car after practice. And help her understand how some things work, I know she’ll be confused with… some stuff.”

The robot hums. “I have a suggestion as well, Ken. I believe if our goal is to help identify her and get her acclimated to human society, it would be best if she knew places outside of the house. And perhaps other people outside of—”

“Outside of me?” Kenji squints, crossing his arms. “What are you suggesting?”

“If you want to expand the possibility of her regaining her old memories by chance, if our theory is correct that she was a past human — based on the articles that dated first sighting of her three years ago— then it would be helpful if she is reminded of the society she grew up in. And she might develop her original traits more if she interacts with other people in a controlled , yet natural environment.”

Kenji remained silent. He knew Mina was right, but… “I don’t know… It’s still a little risky.”

However, it is true that Kenji feels a little bad now that he thinks about it. How you were also feeling indebted enough to take care of a baby that wasn’t your own, while he and Mina occasionally wrote notes and shared minute observations about you like you were a lab rat…

“Okay, fine. I’ll take her to Roppongi once I’m free, she’ll probably love the food there. Lots of people.” He shrugs, walking backwards to his room as he faces the hovering bot.

Taglist: @moonjellyfishie @mochminnie @lovingyeet @vrxouei @secretyna @misdollface @emosakumas @bol0-de-morang0 @n4muqr @blooscool

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ultraman #ultraman emi #ultraman ken #ultraman rising

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