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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago

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Something There (Chapter 3)

7.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, some angst, putting the "enemies" in "enemies-to-lovers", some sexual references, more childish arguments between adults who clearly want each other

Series Masterlist

“Oi! Coach Buck! Need a hand?”

“Thanks Jamie.” I smiled as I handed my duffel bag to a smiling Jamie Tartt. Just as I was about to ask where he got his adorable headband a gruff voice barked out-

“Whistle!”

With a groan, I turned my attention to the middle of the parking lot, which was full of Whippets and Greyhounds, who, up until a moment ago, were mingling and chattering as they loaded their luggage onto the two team buses. In the center of it all stood Rebecca, still managing to look like an absolute goddess in her ponytail and activewear that probably cost more than I could ever afford, and Roy, standing like a drill sergeant in a black tracksuit, scowling at everyone. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was just angry to be in a parking lot at six in the morning with two professional soccer teams who were acting more like teens going on an overnight trip. But, knowing Roy Kent, that was just his stupid, rugged face.

Rebecca plastered on a smile as everyone turned in their direction. “Thank you, Roy,” she hummed. She turned to the two teams. “Good morning, all!” Everyone called back either mumbled or enthusiastic greetings- nothing in between, although I did notice that most people seemed excited. “Right, so thank you all for being on time. We are just about ready to head on out. But we thought, in the spirit of this weekend, that we shouldn’t all be on our separate buses. Instead, you will be seated with someone from the other team, Greyhounds and Whippets.” There was a pleased buzz among the players. “Just a way to start getting to know each other and becoming that united Richmond community I know we can be.” With those last words, her eyes pointed meaningfully at Roy and then me.

It was all a bit embarrassing. There was no secret at Nelson Road that the reason for the “First Annual Pre-Season Retreat” was because of us. It had become something of a joke. Someone even tried to start calling us “lovebirds” after Rebecca’d screamed at us in the hallway, but Roy had very quickly put a stop to that with just a growl. Of course, no one could stop Lucas from making those same jokes to me in private as we watched Lust Conquers All at my place.

“So, Whippets, you’ll report to your dear Coach Lucas-” Rebecca pointed at Lucas, who stood between the buses holding a drawstring bag. “-and you’ll pull out the name of one of the Greyhounds. Once you have your seat partner, you can start climbing aboard.” She offered me that same tight smile she’d had that day in her office after she screamed at Roy and me. “Coach Buck, why don’t you lead by example?”

Praying my blush wasn’t as bright as it felt, I made my way to Lucas, who looked suspiciously chipper as I dipped my hand into the bag. I felt around the papers before grabbing one, praying I’d get Jamie, or Dani, or Sam, or Nate, literally anyone but-

“Roy Kent,” I read flatly, narrowing my eyes at the still-grinning Lucas. “This thing’s fucking rigged,” I grumbled.

“Of course it’s rigged,” confirmed Rebecca, who I hadn’t realized had moved towards the buses. “You two are the whole reason we’re here in the first place. Now on you go.” She gestured towards the Whippets’ bus. “Any two seats as long as they’re together.” She turned to Lucas. “Go ahead and put the real papers in, please.”

I watched with utmost betrayal (and a little admiration) as Lucas emptied out the bag- which I now realized was full of papers just bearing Roy’s name- and filled it with fresh pages, which held the names of people I’d actually want to sit with.

Roy, whose pained expression probably matched my own, scowled down at me as we headed towards the bus doors. “You don’t get fucking carsick, do you?”

“Nope.” What the fuck?

He nodded. “Good. We’re sitting in the back. Dunno about your team, but mine’s annoying as fuck on road trips, and I want to be as far away from them as possible.” He stomped up the steps, not bothering to glance back to see if I was following him. I let out a deep breath and adjusted my backpack on my shoulder.

When I stepped onto the bus, Roy was already sitting in the very back, arms crossed and eyes focused on the window. Because, obviously, he took the window seat. With a huff, I plopped down next to him, stuffing my backpack between my feet.

“Coach! Can we sit with you?” Jamie had stepped onto the bus, followed by Kira, the Whippets’ newly dubbed captain.

“No!” Roy barked, rolling his eyes.

Despite Roy’s answer, Jamie and Kira sat down in front of us, with Jamie assuring Kira that Coach Kent was just joking. He turned and sat up on his knees to look over the seats at us while the rest of the bus filled up.

“Coach, can we roast marshmallows tonight?”

Roy looked comically disgusted, either by Jamie’s suggestion or the simple fact that the striker was talking to him. “Fuck no.” He turned back to the window.

Jamie pouted and turned his attention to me. “Coach Buck would let us roast marshmallows, wouldn’t ya, Coach?”

“That’s more Rebecca’s call, she’s the one planning this thing,” I reminded him. “Besides, did you even bring marshmallows?”

“Oh, no.”

With a grunt, Roy looked back at us. “Then this is a fucking pointless conversation, isn’t it?”

Jamie lit up again. “Sam brought the marshmallows, actually. I was in charge of chocolate.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed at his player before he looked back at me. “’m taking a fucking nap. If I wake up with a dick Sharpied on my face, I will make sure to find a lake to throw all of your clothes into.”

“I’d be doing you a favor,” I muttered like a child, folding my arms and slouching. “A dick on your face would distract from what a dick you are.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us. In unison, we looked up to see Rebecca, eyebrow arched as she gazed down at us. Fuck, that was the exact face my mom would make when she had to pick me up in the principal’s office.

“Jamie, could you keep an eye on the gaffers here? Make sure there’s no fighting?”

The striker nodded earnestly, clearly intent taking his job seriously. “You got it, boss.”

Next to me, Roy snorted. “What, you don’t want to do babysit us yourself?”

“Oh, no,” Rebecca scoffed. “I’ll be on the other bus. I am not subjecting myself to the two of you for the next two hours.” With that, she whipped around and strutted off the bus, offering us a teasing wave before climbing down the stairs.

I slumped further down in my seat, determined not to look at Roy for what I knew would be the longest two hours of my life.

Roy wasn’t sure how long he’d been napping. He just knew that when he opened his eyes, there were trees everywhere, the sky was overcast, the players had finally stopped singing Taylor Swift songs, and someone’s head was on his shoulder.

He looked down out of the corner of his eyes. Her eyes were closed, and her eyebrows were scrunched, and the way her lips twitched made Roy wonder what she could be dreaming about. Him? She’d probably say that was a fucking nightmare.

A small, idiotic part of Roy wanted her to stay there, close to him. Wrapping an arm around her was almost fucking tempting, especially when she shifted closer and he caught a whiff of- was that lavender? Fuck, why did she always smell nice? Another part of him- the logical part, he assured himself- wanted to wake her up by shoving her off of himself and chastising her for drooling on him.

But the part of him that didn’t want Jamie fucking Tartt to narc on him decided just to pretend he was still napping and sit up a little, gently, so that she would slowly wake up, realize how fucking close she was to him, and get the fuck off of him. So, that was what Roy did.

Sure enough, as soon as he shifted, her eyes fluttered open. Quickly, she pulled herself away from Roy, checking that he was still asleep- or at least appeared so. Relieved to see his eyes closed, she turned her face towards the aisle, hoping none of the players had seen her admittedly embarrassing moment.

That stupid part of Roy missed her warmth.

After a bit, figuring she wouldn’t suspect a thing, Roy pretended to wake up, wondering why he fucking cared so much going through all this trouble to save her the embarrassment of being caught using his shoulder as a pillow.He glanced over at her; as if she could feel his gaze, she turned in his direction, her cheeks growing in color the moment their eyes met.

“Don’t worry,” she hummed, cool as ever. “Didn’t draw a dick on you. Couldn’t find my Sharpie.”

Instead of the small chuckle that grew in his chest, Roy gave a little grunt of acknowledgement before pressing his forehead to the cool window, not sure what he’d do if he kept looking at her, in those leggings and that cozy-looking fleece jacket with the little Whippets logo embroidered right over her heart. He spent the rest of the bus ride sitting like that, watching the trees whizz by, listening as Jamie turned around and engaged her in an animated conversation about the places she’d visited in England so far, with both of them giggling when Jamie mentioned that club. Roy’s ears grew white-hot as he remembered that night when all three of them were there. Fucking idiot.

What if he’d been in a good mood that night? If he’d smiled and helped a pretty stranger order her drink? If he’d asked where she was from and discovered she was American? If he inquired about what brought her to England and discovered who she was? Hell, what if he’d done his homework and read the damn report Keeley had written? He’d have recognized her immediately and probably put in the effort to introduce himself. Maybe even bought her that drink, welcome her to Richmond. And they’d smile at each other at work and have pleasant conversations and chat as they ran on the treadmills at the end of the day and share the Dog Track like mature adults and maybe one day, down the road, Roy would ask what she was up to some weekend and if she would maybe be interested in-

Nope. Nope. Shut the fuck up, Roy. Just keep staring at the fucking trees.

When the bus finally arrived at the campground, Roy did some quick math, and realized they’d napped together for about forty minutes. Forty minutes of her sleeping with her head on his shoulder, their faces just centimeters away from each other without anyone shouting or arguing.

Not that it fucking mattered.

Everyone loaded off the buses, chattering excitedly. Finding a good opportunity to put some space between them after the too-close bus ride, Roy helped unload the luggage from the Whippets’ bus, relishing the chance to throw Jamie’s bright pink leather duffel bag in his face.

Once everyone had their belongings, Rebecca waved to get everyone’s attention, projecting her voice in a way that impressed even the gaffers. “Right then. So, we have just a short trek to the cabins. Ladies will be one way, gentlemen the other, and coaches-” The coaching staff perked up. “We’ll be in the middle.”

Roy threw his head back as Rebecca warned the players against turning the weekend into the Olympic Village, which caused more than a few Greyhounds to pout. All of the coaches would be sharing a cabin? More of this co-ed shit? Sharing with anyone would be bad enough, Roy would rather sleep on the fucking bus than have to listen to Coach Beard’s snoring, but having to spend his weekend sleeping in the same room as-

“You know you’re in the way.”

“Fucking seriously?” He turned around and glared at the coach as she adjusted her duffel bag on her shoulder, ponytail bouncing like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial. “There’s an entire fucking forest. Just fucking go around me.”

Jamie Tartt clicked his tongue as he walked by. “Careful, you two, or I’ll have to tell Rebecca you’re bickerin’ again.”

“Fuck off, Tartt,” Roy grumbled, just as Coach Buck muttered, “Can it, Jamie.” The two coaches blinked at one another before following the group along the path, neither of them saying anything more as they walked side by side.

“Bunk beds. Of course it’s fucking bunk beds.” Roy Kent scowled and dropped his bag on the cabin floor, right in front of the doorway.

“Seriously, Kent?” I groaned, glaring down at his stupid duffel bag. “Move your fucking bag.”

He rolled his eyes, but nevertheless Roy picked his bag back up and moved further into the cabin. I followed him in, tossing my own bag onto the closest bunk I could find. Slowly the other coaches and Rebecca filed in, all carrying their luggage.

Sitting on one of the bottom bunks, Roy scowled. “Any chance I’m allowed to sleep outside and hope a fucking badger mauls me?”

Before I could second that idea, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “Roy, I will assign you and your shit knee to a top bunk if you don’t watch it. Besides,” she continued, “just think of this as one big sleepover. We’ll stay up late, tell ghost stories, share our deepest secrets, and drink the booze I know Coach Beard has in his backpack.”

“Moonshine always makes me feel better when I’m feeling a little homesick,” Beard explained, winking in my direction. I grinned back.

“Right,” Rebecca hummed. “Well, we are all meeting in that big open space once we’re settled in.” She checked her watch. “Doctor Sharon should be arriving soon.”

Nate lit up as he unzipped his suitcase. “Doctor Sharon’s coming?”

Rebecca nodded. “She’ll be running this weekend basically. She’s kind enough to drive back and forth to be with us.”

“We could’ve just driven back and forth?” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck!”

I scoffed as Lucas tossed his own bag on the bunk above mine. “You really think Rebecca’d give us that option?”

“No one fucking asked you,” he mumbled, loud enough that only we could hear.

Lucas gripped my shoulders and steered me towards the doors. “Why don’t we head on out before Rebecca schedules you two some couple’s counseling, hmm?”

About thirty minutes later, both teams were assembled in the amphitheater behind the coaches’ cabin, listening as Doctor Sharon explained what the weekend would consist of.

“… and I did make sure to schedule time for team-building games,” she was saying, which was rewarded with a giant whoop from Isaac McAdoo. “Now, there will be a block of time in the afternoons where you’re able to train with your coaches-” She gestured towards us. “-and I will be set up to meet with anyone who just needs to talk one-on-one during that time.”

My eyes wandered as Doctor Sharon continued to talk about the small groups we’d all been assigned to. It was almost impressive to see the Greyhounds pay such attention; they could be absolute toddlers sometimes with all that energy, but apparently something about Doctor Sharon commanded their respect and attention. She and I had only said hello a couple of times, but already I liked her no-nonsense attitude.

As I continued looking around, a pair of brown eyes locked with mine across the amphitheater. Fucking Roy Kent, making me spend my weekend here, I thought with an instinctive scowl, which was quickly returned by the bearded man.

“Hey,” Lucas hissed as he elbowed me. “Stop undressing that man with your eyes. I don’t care about how much you want to run your hands through his chest hair and let him have his way with you. You are in public, Bucky.”

I broke the staring contest to gape at Lucas. “Quit saying shit like that! Someone’s going to fucking hear you one of these days.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not exactly a huge secret. Everyone knows you two want to shag.” He loved using British slang now, especially when he was being obnoxious. “Well, except maybe you two.”

“Luke, I swear to-”

“So, go ahead and get into your groups,” Doctor Sharon was saying. “And we’ll start our ice breaker.”

Lucas stood and pulled me up with him. “Gee, I wonder who’s in your group.”

“Bite me,” I grumbled as I left him to walk over to Dani, who I knew was in my small group based on the lists Rebecca had given everyone.

“Hola, Coach Bucky!” he greeted with that dazzling smile. “I am so excited that we are in the same group for this weekend!”

I couldn’t help but return his infectious grin. “It’ll be fun,” I agreed. Of course, I immediately regretted my words when Roy strode over to us, already frowning.

“Can’t believe we’re in the same fucking group,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Really?” I scoffed as Kira, Olivia, one of my defenders, and a couple more Greyhounds- Colin Hughes and Richard Montlaur- strolled over. “You think Rebecca wouldn’t use this as an opportunity to punish us even more?”

He only growled in response, which I’d realized was his way of admitting that I was right about something without actually telling me I was right. Fucking idiot. Against my will, Lucas had given me the lowdown on Roy Kent’s romantic history; how the hell did he get models and actresses to sleep with him? He was so damn weird.

Okay, well he had been a successful soccer player and was a pretty solid coach now. Which meant he was famous. And probably pretty wealthy. And obviously in shape. And I could see how some people would think he was attractive in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way way. And even I had to admit that there was something kind of sexy about that growling way he spoke-

Realizing I was staring at Roy still, I turned my attention to the players who’d joined us. “Hey Colin, how ya doing?”

He nodded. “Good, good. Just kind of cold.” He rubbed his bare arms.

Before I could point out his lack of jacket, Doctor Sharon called for everyone’s attention. “Right. Just to start things off simply, we are going to play Human Knot. It’s a great way to practice cooperation and communication. So, please, circle up, grab hands, and, well, you know the rest.”

Our group did as we were told, quickly thrusting our hands into the center and grabbing whoever we could. The next few minutes were full of tugging and climbing over arms and ducking under arms. Despite Roy’s growling, I found myself having fun, laughing with the players as we tried to solve our self-made puzzle, determined to be the first group finished. It wasn’t until we were nearly done that I realized whose hand was holding in my left.

“Whoo! Bucky!” Lucas called across the field as my group spread out into a perfect circle, finished with our game.

Roy’s eyes were fixed on our joined hands, a scowl on his bearded face. I wondered if my hand was warm in his, like his felt in mine. Not that it mattered; the moment Doctor Sharon declared our team the winners of the game, he yanked his hand out of mine, nearly ripping my arm off in the process.

“Dick,” I hissed, rubbing my now sore shoulder.

“Priss,” he shot back, rolling his eyes.

“How are we doing here, coaches?” Rebecca, who’d appeared with the stealth of a ninja, clapped her hands on our shoulders, beaming at us with scrutiny behind her eyes, daring either of us to complain.

In unison, we both plastered on fake smiles and chirped, “Great!”

When everyone was dismissed for lunch, Roy watched as she waved goodbye to everyone except him, then went on her merry way to Lucas so they could walk to the dining hall together, hating the feeling he got in his stomach as he watched her figure stroll away.

It was the longest fucking morning of Roy Kent’s life. He’d had to play childish icebreaker games, do a fucking relay race that killed his knee, and sit in some fucking hippie circle talking about what it means to be a good listener or some shit. Worst of all, he had to do all of it while trying not to stare at the only other coach in his group.

“How’s it going?”

Because this was shaping up to also be the worst day of Roy Kent’s life, Jamie had appeared at Roy’s side; Roy wondered if the striker had caught him staring at the Whippets’ manager.

When Roy only grunted in response, Jamie continued talking as the two men began walking. “Boy, you really got it bad for Coach Buck, don’t ya?”

Roy stopped in his tracks, fists clenched at his side. “The fuck did you just say?”

Jamie cocked his head. “Coach Buck. You like her, right?” Receiving no answer, Jamie shrugged and kept walking; Roy reluctantly followed suit. “I mean, I don’t blame ya. She’s mad fit and smart and obviously likes football and she’s the only person I’ve ever seen get under your skin more than I do.”

“I don’t fucking like her,” Roy spat, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to hear Jamie’s lunacy. “Can’t fucking stand her, actually. And the feeling’s mutual so don’t worry about me hurting her fucking feelings.”

A small O formed on Jamie’s lips. “Oh fuck, you’re in complete denial then? Shit, I thought you were just trying to keep it a secret until you figured out how she feels.” He patted his coach’s back. “Let me know when you realize you fancy her so we can have a proper chat, yeah?”

Not bothering to wait for Roy’s inevitably expletive-filled answer, Jamie jogged ahead, slowing down so he could walk backwards while chatting with a trio of Whippets.

Finally alone, Roy sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. You’re in complete denial then? Fucking Jamie Tartt, he really was stupider than he looked. Roy didn’t like her; on the contrary, he thought she was the most infuriating person he’d ever met. So fucking argumentative. He’d yet to have an actual conversation with her; how was he supposed to tolerate her, let alone like her?

Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t like her. Roy didn’t fucking like-

“Coach Kent.” Doctor Sharon offered a small smile as she approached him. “Mind if I walk with you?”

Roy cleared his throat and his mind. “That’s fine.” He bobbled his head from side to side. “Can’t believe they got you to drive up here for this shit.”

Doctor Sharon’s smile became a smirk. “Can’t believe you’re the reason for ‘this shit’, as you call it.”

“Oh no, not you too,” Roy groaned, throwing his head back. “Listen, I’m fucking sorry everyone has to give up their weekend, but come on, we all know Rebecca was the one who came up with this idea, fucking blame her.” He shrugged. “She could’ve just sent us to go do some fucking mediation with you and be done with it.”

The doctor shook her head. “Roy, this is about more than the two of you. This is about two teams becoming a community. It’s something Ms. Welton feels quite strongly about. She wants the Whippets to be successful, and she thinks having the Greyhounds in their corner is a key part of that. You can understand that, right?”

Roy shrugged. “Fucking guess so,” he mumbled as they approached the dining hall.

“And it doesn’t help things when her two managers are at each other’s throats all the time, does it?” Doctor Sharon asked pointedly.

“No,” Roy admitted with a defeated sigh as they joined the line for food.

Once they’d loaded their trays with whatever food Roy couldn’t be bothered to try to identify, Roy heard someone call his name. When he turned, he saw Coach Lucas waving at him from a table with all the coaches and Rebecca; only one of them looked annoyed at the sight of him.

“Come on, then,” Doctor Sharon said as she nudged Roy. “Good opportunity for you two to practice being civil.”

Roy reluctantly followed Doctor Sharon to the coaches’ table, grunting as they were greeted. Internally, he groaned when he realized he was sitting directly across from the Americans.

While everyone ate, Roy did his best to focus on Beard sitting to his right, he really did. But he kept feeling his gaze shift across the table, where he’d catch glimpses of her smiling, laughing, joking. He especially hated the way his eyes lingered on her mouth when she sipped her water through the straw of her water bottle; even without her red lipstick, he couldn’t help the way his eyes continually settled there, wondering if those lips were as soft as they looked.

“Roy? Did you hear what I said?”

Blinking and praying to whatever deity was listening that no one had caught him ogling, Roy turned to look at Nate on Beard’s other side. “What?”

Nate leaned forward. “Rebecca was telling us about a nearby field we can use for training. D’you want me to go ahead and set up cones to make the pitch?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

The lips he really wished were out of his eyeline started moving. “You want some help Nate?” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a brief moment. “We’ll be using it too, after all.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Coach!” Nate beamed and picked up his plate. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” Her eyes returned to Roy as she grabbed her plate. She stood up and stared at him for a moment, head slightly tilted. It was an unreadable stare, one that didn’t hold her usual fiery anger. It was a look that made Roy’s stupid heart flutter for a brief moment.

Of course, she couldn’t know the effect she had on him. Fuck no. So, he let his eyes narrow at her suspiciously, much to the chagrin of an observant Doctor Sharon and the amusement of a perceptive Coach Beard, and was rewarded with an exasperated eyeroll.

“You’ve got fucking spaghetti sauce on your shirt, Kent,” she huffed.

Roy didn’t check his shirt until she had turned on her heel, put her plate in a stack of dirty dishes by the kitchen, and strutted out of the dining hall with Nate right behind her. It was only once she was out of sight that Roy looked down at his chest, where a small splatter of red stained the bright blue of his Richmond jacket, right above his stupid, stupid heart.

Fuck.

As much as Rebecca wanted to torture us that weekend, she still wanted winning teams. So, after Doctor Sharon’s presentation on “healthy communication methods” (during which Roy Kent communicated his annoyance by healthily glaring at me pretty much the whole time), the teams were dismissed to go to the pitch Nate and I had set up.

“Oi.”

I turned away from Lucas, who’d been asking about our warm up. Roy towered over me, his fingers twitching slightly as he stared at me. He looked like the slightest movement would spook him, so I simply raised my eyebrows to let him know I was listening.

He cleared his throat. “If you want, we can work on the north half of the pitch. You can have the shade.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lucas’s jaw drop slightly. It was hard to blame him; Roy Kent was speaking to me civilly. Even worse, he was offering to do something nice. Nate had to have put him up to it. Or Beard. Hell, knowing Rebecca, she’d probably threatened him into it.

Not that I was going to turn it down.

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied. Lucas nudged me sharply. “Thanks,” I quietly added.

“Hmmph.” With a curt nod, Roy headed to the north side of the field, where, with an earsplitting “Whistle!”, he gathered his team.

Lucas blew his actual, physical whistle and had Kira lead the Whippets in warming up. With the team occupied, he turned to me. “Well, wasn’t that sweet,” he hummed, waggling his eyebrows.

Eyes glued to my players, I scoffed. “It was the least he could do, considering how we landed here in the first place. Besides, everyone’s chomping at the bit to rat on us if we start fighting. He’s probably just trying to make it look like he’s the bigger person.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Lucas laughed, turning his attention back to the team. “But hey, stay in denial, that’s fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you wake up in that man’s bed someday.”

The punch that landed on his arm would end up leaving a bruise that lasted for several days.

On the bright side, at least my assistant coach shut up and focused on practice. Sharing the field proved a bit difficult, but I found solace in the fact that Roy Kent was suffering just as much, having to pause when one of our balls ended up on their side or realizing he didn’t have enough space for a certain drill. As the afternoon came to a close, I blew my whistle and called my team over.

“Great job, all,” I declared. “I know it wasn’t our normal practice, so I really appreciate your patience.” I glanced at my watch. “You’ve got about forty minutes til dinner, so you’ve got some free time. Shower, rest. Don’t forget Doctor Sharon’s available, too.”

Kira Malone spoke up. “Actually, Coach, we’re staying out here for a bit. You’re welcome to watch if you want.”

Lucas and I exchanged looks. “Okay,” I said slowly, trying not to show my confusion.

The Whippets stayed on the field, kicking around a couple of balls. It took a moment, but I realized they were watching the Greyhounds; no, they were waiting for the Greyhounds. The moment Roy dismissed the men, they jogged over to the women, and everyone began chattering excitedly.

“What the hell are they doing?” Lucas whispered as we planted ourselves on the grass.

I shrugged. “No clue.”

Each team lined up at one end of the field, everyone looking exhilarated, bouncing on their heels and smiling. Nate strolled over to us, holding a ball in his hands.

“You two staying to watch?”

Lucas tilted his head. “What exactly are we staying to watch, Nathan?”

A knowing grin spread across the assistant coach’s face. “Oh. You’ll see. Isaac and Kira had the idea during lunch.” He turned and walked to the center circle, where he placed the ball as if a game were about to begin. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Roy and Beard standing by the goal post, watching with just as much interest and muttering to one another.

When Nate, who’d moved off the field, blew his whistle, Isaac and Kira, who were first in line, sprinted forward, racing towards the ball. Kira reached it first and began making her way towards the men’s goal; Isaac managed to steal and ball and take it the other direction. After a bit of back and forth, Isaac scored, eliciting thunderous cheers from both sides. Lucas and I exchanged glances. What the heck?

Colin Hughes and Cheri Willis competed next. Then Sam Obisanya and Sandra Finley. On and on. Eventually, every player had ran up to the ball and had a little one-on-one with a member of the other team. When Kira and Isaac ended up at the front of the line again, both lines rushed forward and, keeping their lines, exchanged giggly high-fives- as if they were children after an AYSO game instead of professional athletes.

As the players mingled and laughed, Beard and Nate made their way over to us; Roy followed, keeping his usual distance.

“Did you guys know about that?” Beard asked, eyebrows raised over his sunglasses.

We shook our heads. “You?”

Nate perked up. “Isaac told me about it during training. I guess during lunch one of the Whippets mentioned how much she liked doing playing that after practices as a kid, everyone thought it sounded like fun.” His smile turned thoughtful. “That looked like a blast for them. I had fun just watching them,” he added.

“Me too.” We all turned; there was Rebecca, watching us with an amused grin. “That is what this weekend is about.” She pointed to the players, who were beginning to make their way to cabins and showers, laughter on their lips and springs in their steps. “Respect. Collaboration. Community.” She eyed me and Roy, who’d slowly made his way over once he’d caught sight of Rebecca. “Something we could all learn, hmm?”

Roy and I turned our gazes to one another; I could tell he was trying just as hard as I was not to narrow or roll his eyes, or let out an annoyed huff, or make a snarky comment. We both knew Rebecca was waiting for us to surrender and call a truce. Maybe even pay a compliment about each other’s coaching. Hell, just a mutual nod of agreement would be enough. Just offer her some glimmer of hope that the entire season wouldn’t be all bickering and screaming.

But neither of us was willing to yield first.

“Gonna go take a fucking shower,” Roy mumbled, turning and following the players back up towards the cabin, his head ducked downward, as if he felt the same embarrassment I felt. I wondered if he was also asking himself, Why is this so fucking hard?

Roy banged the back of his head repeatedly against the cabin wall. This was stupid. Childish. A fucking waste of time. And he wasn’t positive, but he thought it might be a human rights violation.

Despite the players’ little game and Rebecca’s “one happy family” moment after training, they’d found a new opportunity to argue: Roy had left his towel hanging from the wrong bunk. And of course, that was a fucking problem. Because everything was a fucking problem, apparently.

“Alright, I’m done!” Coach Beard scolded, reminding Roy more of an exasperated father than an assistant coach. “You two, with me.”

The still seething managers reluctantly followed Beard along the dirt path to a small cabin, more of a shed really, filled with tools and gardening equipment. Beard opened the door and gestured for them to go inside.

“Excuse me?” she had squeaked as Roy grumbled, “What the fuck, Beard?”

With an eerie calmness that made Roy’s blood go cold, Beard nodded towards the shed. “Go inside. Do not come out until you figure out how to get along. Or you’ve banged this thing out of your systems. Or one of you is dead. At this point I don’t care.”

“I doubt Rebecca’d be okay with this,” Coach Buck tried, clearly as desperate as Roy not to go inside the shed. “Or Doctor Sharon.”

Coach Beard laughed in their faces. “Do you two really want Rebecca to know you’re fighting again?”

Fucking Beard. He had a point.

So now Roy sat on the floor of a fucking storage shed, with no light but a bare bulb above them, trying to stay in his little personal space bubble as best he could, trying not to flinch every time their knees bumped, each tiny touch sending Roy’s heart into overdrive.

“Can’t believe I’m missing the fucking s’mores to sit in a shed with you,” she sighed, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the same wall Roy was trying to kill himself on.

Roy snorted. “Really? You’re upset over marshmallows? That’s the most American shit I’ve ever heard. And I played for fucking Lasso.”

She tilted her head towards him, the soft light on her face making his chest tighten almost painfully. “Yeah, Kent. I’m upset over fucking marshmallows.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m missing a bonding experience with my team, idiot. You’ve coached the Greyhounds for what, three years now? And you played with most of those guys, right?” She wiped some dirt off her knee, brushing his knee as she did. “I’m still getting to know my players. Earning their trust. And I’m missing an opportunity to spend time with them off the field because I have to sit in this shed with you.”

There was a heavy silence as Roy took in her words. She was always pointing out the differences between their experiences; he was experienced, she was new, he was home, she was an outsider, he was a man, she was a woman.

Of course, when she was feeling particularly feisty, she’d also remind him that she was an Olympic champion. Which he was not.

To his surprise, she broke the silence. “Tell me about Lasso.”

Roy furrowed his brow and stared at her. “What?”

“Ted Lasso.” She shrugged. “You all keep talking about the guy. This American manager who got Roy Kent to actually tolerate him.” She narrowed her eyes, a hint of playfulness behind them this time. “Kind of curious how he managed that.”

The snort that came out of Roy’s nose surprised them both. “Dunno. He fucking wore me down with how fucking kind he is. Made me fucking soft. Wanker.”

She nodded. “So, if I’m aggressively nice, you’ll stop rolling your eyes every time I walk into the room?”

“Maybe.” Roy didn’t bother to stop the corner of his mouth from tugging upwards. “You’ve got to be real fucking annoying about it, though.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. Everyone knows you think I’m annoying as fuck already.”

Both coaches let out breathy chuckles, each thinking about how silly, and ridiculous, and stupid this whole thing was. They were fucking adults, after all. Professionals. They both wanted to lead their teams to victory; and, if they were being honest, both wanted the same for the other coach’s team.

So why the fuck were they in a fucking shed in the middle of the woods?

Roy took a shaky breath, not sure where he was going with this. “It’s impressive, you know,” he murmured. “The whole moving to a new country to start a new team shit. Don’t know how you did it.”

Even in the dim glow of the lone bulb, he could see her face tint pink. “It’s kind of fucking scary,” she admitted softly. “But it’s also kind of the coolest shit I’ve ever done.”

“Yeah,” Roy agreed, shouldering her playfully, amazed by his own actions. “Even I have to admit, it’s pretty fucking impressive.” He bobbled his head and rolled his eyes. “Almost as impressive as an Olympic gold medal.”

He liked the sheepish grin she shot him. It looked good on her. “Alright, I might bring that up a lot. But no one gets mad at Michael Phelps for talking about his.”

“That bastard has, like a million of them,” Roy laughed, feeling his shoulders relax for the first time since he’d walked into the changing room on her first day. “But I guess you have a fucking point. It’s impressive,” he repeated.

“You know what’ll be really impressive?”

Instinctively, Roy leaned closer, not caring if she noticed the way his eyes flickered down to her mouth, still gorgeous even without that red lipstick. “Hmm?”

Her raised eyebrows told him that if she noticed, she didn’t mind. “When both of our teams win the whole fucking thing at the end of this year.”

“I hate to break it to you, but Chelsea did that a few years ago,” Roy informed her.

“So? Fuck Chelsea.” She was completely grinning now, a sight Roy couldn’t believe was all his to witness, rather than stealing a glimpse of a smile meant for someone else. “We’re fucking Richmond. You guys are, like, perennial underdogs, and we’re a brand-new team led by an American. That’s some fairy tale shit.”

Roy nodded softly. “Fairy tale shit,” he repeated. “I like it.”

Before Roy could do something about the warm feeling in his chest that he hoped she was also having, there was a buzzing noise coming from her pocket. With a frown, she pulled out her mobile, clearing her throat as she glanced at it. Unable to help himself, his eyes flickered to the screen, where he saw fucking George Willows’s name above a text message.

“Guess I finally got a fucking signal out here,” she joked, locking her phone and darkening the screen. She looked back at Roy. “So, fairy tale shit?”

Roy leaned back, putting distance between them again- physical and metaphorical. “It’ll be a good season,” he said bluntly, ending whatever moment he decided was one-sided. “I’m sure your team’ll do fucking fine.” He paused, finger tapping on his bad knee. “D’you need to text fucking Willows back? Set up an interview or some shit?”

This time, the color on her cheeks wasn’t for Roy. “Oh, yeah. He wants to do some profiles on the Whippets, so we’re setting that up.”

Roy let his head fall back against the wall, wondering how hard he’d have to hit it to give himself a concussion. “Shouldn’t you let Keeley deal with the devil? It’s part of her job.”

She sighed. “He’s not the devil. He’s a nice guy. And I don’t mind helping out.” Smile now completely gone, she frowned at Roy. “And I don’t have to justify myself to you, Kent.”

“No,” he agreed. “Guess you fucking don’t.” He stood as suddenly as his knees would allow, nodding towards the door. “Come on. Let’s just fucking tell Beard we apologized to each other and agreed that ignoring each other is the best course of action.”

“Fine.” She hoisted herself up, slower and more carefully than Roy expected. “Thanks coming up with that idea right now instead of, oh I dunno, an hour ago.”

Not quite looking at Roy, she brushed past him, giving his shoulder a little shove with her own, and threw the door open. Roy stood in the doorway and watched as she walked, not to the campfire, where the sounds of laughter and joking and even singing could be heard, but instead to the coaches’ cabin, her shoulders slumped and head down.

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reading-blogs @callmecasey81 @ladygrey03 @puckyou-forpuckssake @royalestrellas @shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten @giggling-sewer-ginger @whataloadofmalarkey @agentstarkid @kingleahhh @tortilla-maria1 @geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro @spicyraccoonlordking @spaghetti-dad187 @needlesthreadandbuttons @elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway @djskakakaksjsj-blog @thatonedogwithablog @allthetroubleiveseen @sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life @jill2629-blog @itsbuzzfeedbitch @pretzelactivist @amieinghigh @kashee-h @beingalive1 @mythicalbinicorn @needyomega @kno-way-home @janalustare @sssatorus @its-a-rich-mans-world @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @hesitant-alien33

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

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hypnified · 1 year ago

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It's not gonna be structured, I'm just gonna roll switching from oc to oc.

I feel like Barks would never sleep at night because he would just think about all the brothers he couldn’t save after every mission. But even when he sleeps willingly it doesn't last long.

If Bear were to ever get in a relationship he could never sleep after an argument, he won't sleep until everything has been settled.

Storm probably has the most tattoos out of all my clones, but they all happen to be dedicated to the brothers he's lost. He almost got one dedicated to Barks.

Put Skunker and Barks in a room, and I can assure you that Skunker is leaving with a dislocation (Barks didn't do it.)

Bear drinks enough caf to probably kill a person, but he'd deny it. "This is my first cup today." I can confirm that would be a lie, he's probably drunk two, maybe three.

Erix has a bullet in a necklace given by Skunker the first time they met, the other Skunker jokingly said "Next time you annoy me this is gonna go in your forehead" and Erix kept it just to annoy him.

Bear would give droids pronouns I think

Storm will literally hit Barks for no reason and when Barks hits back, Storm screams for Rex

Barks will try to explode you with his mind if you annoy him

Barks: "snapping my back like a glow stick would solve all my problems."

Storm absolutely FACEPLANTED the first time he stepped off a gunship for the first time. Nobody let's him live it down. The next time he did it was in front of Anakin

Erix will do something, blame Storm and boom Barks and Storm argue. He loves it.

Erix cusses like a sailor

Skunker admires Barks and Rex for putting up with the chaos

Skunker bombards waxer, boil and wooley with jokes

Bear bites off more than he can chew

Now some incorrect quotes:

Barks: I hope no one lowkey hates me.

Barks: Highkey hate me. Hate me with every fiber of your being.

Barks: Go big or go home.

Barks: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

Barks: I don’t think the therapist is supposed to say ‘wow’ that many times during their first session with a client, but here we are.

Barks: I'm so tired of this life. I want to be a roomba. I want knives taped to me. And I want to be set loose.

Storm: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Storm: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want.

Storm: Is this a good idea?

Storm: Probably not.

Storm: Do I care?

Storm: No.

Erix: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

Storm: I didn’t even realize how sarcastic I was being. It’s starting to become a problem, I think.

Erix: Barks, gather the others. We need to have another Storm -is-doing-something-stupid-again-and-we-have-to-stop-them-before-they-hurt-someone convention.

Barks: I’m not a doctor I’m a medic.

Erix: What’s the difference then?

Barks: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die.

Storm: Note to self; never get shot.

Barks: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

Barks: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower.

Barks: My knee just cracked so loudly that I half expect it to glow in the dark tonight.

Erix: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity?

Barks, turning to Storm: How tall are you?

Storm: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life.

Barks: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Storm: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Erix: Edible.

Erix: What if mayonnaise came in cans?

Storm: Well, that would such because you can't microwave metal.

Barks: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

Erix: Pros and cons of dating me.

Erix: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Erix: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Phoenix: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

Phoenix: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

Lazarus: I’m gonna mix a can of Red Bull with seventeen shots of espresso in a fishbowl and then chug it while Kids by MGMT plays in the background so I can perceive twenty-three spatial dimensions and fight my own soul.

Lazarus, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

#woah this is long #also meet phoenix and lazarus #i'm more than happy to answer any questions anyone has #i would've done more but it was already ridiculously long #i still have more ocs to introduce #hopefully someone enjoys this!#i might answer some asks in character if it ever comes to it #blue posts #blue's ocs #blue's oc rambles #skunker #erix #barks #storm #bear #phoenix #lazarus #a mix of incorrect quotes and headcanons

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withapencilandlove · 2 years ago

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!Rules + Info!

Welcome to the blog darlings! Please make sure to look at the rules before talking to us! Be a good cookie now!~

Basic DNI:

If you are Homophobic/Racist/MAP/Proshipper

Please do not use your Personal Blogs to interact with this blog, if you don't have a RP Blog, use Anon. If you send fanart, tell me the name of your blog.

Fandom/OC and OCxCanon/RP Anti. Please don't bother, this is literally the whole blog.

Hate for the sake of hate. You will be blocked.

Info About The Blog:

All art shown in this blog is made by the Admin unless stated otherwise. Please do not steal it. If you wish to use it, ask the admin.

Admin is 20 and would prefer to RP with adults. Children make me uncomfortable, sorry. Although anyone is more than welcome to send an ask.

Although the user is an adult, this blog will not show any explicit NSFW. If you wish to RP NSFW and are an ADULT (might ask for proof, so don't try shit, kids-), DM the Admin.

Speaking of which, Admin is very much more comfy with RPing on Discord than DMs, so if you'd like that, i shall tell you my username in DMs.

It is totally fine to ship your OCs,AUs and Canon characters with mine! Let's get creative!

Whenever Admin is the one speaking, they shall use (these).

All characters shown on this blog are of age unless explicitly said otherwise. And that includes tiny baby, he'll be written as of age.

There will be mentions of Violence, Abuse, and Suggestive Language, but nothing explicit,so BE WARNED.

Be patient with your answers, Admin is a very busy person.

This is an explicitly BATIM/BATDR blog, do not bring other fandoms into it.

Admin is quite shy when it comes to starting RPs, so if i follow you, i most likely would love to interact with you, so do not ever be afraid to approach.

I'll most likely be updating these rules as i go, so please keep your eye on it, i'll pin this post.

About the Main Character of the Blog

Name: Jo

Age: 25 (Entered the Cycle in 1949)

Pronouns: Any

Sexuality: Pansexual

Job/Role in the studio: Animator (1941-1948) / Art Department Co-Director (1943-1948)

Relationships:

Good friends with Henry and Audrey once they enter the cycle.

Cautious/Curious/Enamoured with the Ink Demon.

Doesn't know how to feel about Joey.

Doesn't like Sammy Lawrence.

Despises Wilson.

Backstory:

As a young kid, their family immigrated from Portugal with the help of Joey Drew's family to escape the new dictatorship that formed, in hopes of making a better life for themselves.

One faithful evening their families met up for a christmas dinner where newly sucessful Joey met a young Jo, and they quickly get along over their shared interests in cartoons. Joey ends up showing them "Little Devil Darling", and Jo was hooked on the little devil darling right away, grabbing a pencil and paper and drawing Bendy, to which Joey joked that once they were older, Jo might just get hired to work on his studio, to which Jo was more than happy to accept without question.

Years go by and the two become very close friends, where Jo views Joey as a second father figure, and their art skills grow more by the years, just like their love for their friend's cartoon. Somewhere in their late teens, Joey finally let's Jo become part of the animation crew, to which Jo was super excited for, and told him he would not disappoint him. And in less than half a decade, Jo had proven themselves to be an admirable employee, to which Joey promoted them to Art Department Co-Director, where they worked until the unfortunate closing of Joey's studio.

Deeply saddened by their friend's failed empire, Jo was there to comfort Joey through his tough times, and on one of those faithful nights, they end up finding out about everything that had been happening behind closed doors. Conflicted, Jo had an argument with the man, and ended up being pushed onto the machine on accident by Joey in a fit of rage. The last thing they saw from the real world was Joey's mortified face as he tries to reach for them, but was too late.

Now inside the cycle, Jo roams around the halls trying to survive. But why do they have color? How do they create their little friends??

Ask to find out!

Thanks for reading and have fun!!!

#bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revivial spoilers #batim oc #batdr oc #batim #batdr #batim roleplay #batdr roleplay #batim rp #batdr rp #roleplay #rp #oc #oc rp #rules #rp rules #self promo

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katherynshoward · 3 years ago

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𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞; { 𝐠.𝐰. 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 }

SYNOPSIS; my headcanons for what it would be like to date george. fred is alive and this would be AFTER the war when everyone is grown. feel free to use these in your stories! if it’s precise, like my quotes, just be sure to credit me.

RESTRICTIONS; preferably 18+. if you’re under 18, i only ask that you do not read the nsfw headcanons section. it is greatly appreciated.

WORD COUNT; 0.9k

WARNINGS; mention of death, sex, dress up kink

whenever you’re giving him the silent treatment after an argument, he puts your favorite snack on the highest shelf where you live and hides the stool. it’s how he gets you to talk to him. fucker.

he constantly asks if you still have a crush on him even after you eventually get married.

you tell him ‘sweet dreams’ every night before bed and he responds with ‘see you there’.

then he falls asleep in ten seconds while you stay up wondering if he remember to turn off the stove until you inevitably get up to check.

you guys build hella forts.

modern george would be the kind of person to angle his phone up so you can only see his forehead and one eyebrow during facetime calls, not realizing he’s on camera as well.

he likes to bath with you. he always sits directly behind you in the tub and tries to shape your hair into a mohawk with shampoo.

george loves hand holding. hand holding supremacy.

because you’re holding hands literally all the time, he likes to say ‘steady’ and twirl you around while you two are walking in public and then he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

he knows you’re very ticklish on your neck and likes to whisper the most obscure hilarious shit against your neck at random times.

you guys people watch A LOT. the two of you could literally commentate on others for hours, bouncing back and forth off of each other in good humor.

forehead kisses instantly revive his mood. it’s his life force.

he has to be sitting for you to give him forehead kisses bc he’s too tall otherwise.

he has accidentally used your toothbrush way too many times. they’re not even close to the same color.

fred used to pretend he was george to get you to tell him shocking information about george to blackmail him later. you eventually caught on and can clearly tell them apart now.

F: “Hey, love. Do you remember where I put my journal?” You: “Weren’t you just writing in it last night? It’s beneath the mattress. Like always.” F: “No bloody way. He still uses it?” You: “What?” F: “What?”

every opportunity to make a tasteless pun about his missing ear, he absolutely takes it.

george wakes up first and likes to spend his first hour just admiring you. caressing you with his fingers and brushing your hair out of your face. if you do anything embarrassing during this hour, you will be hearing about it.

he was terrified of cats when you first started dating. but he got you a kitten for your birthday after your last one passed and you were inconsolable. it looks just like your last cat.

george is now ultimate cat dad and probably cuddles the cat more than you do.

You: “Why did you take the cat to go poop with you?”

G: “He gets scared when I’m gone, y/n. I can’t leave him.”

you were best friends for a very long time before you started dating and you still very much act like best friends. because you are.

because he’s your bestie as well as your lover, he lets you do conventionally girly things with him if it means spending more time with you.

he would definitely by the type of boyfriend to let you do makeup on him for a youtube video.

G: “Am I pretty now?” You: “The prettiest.” G: Buzzer noise* “That was a trick question. You were supposed to say ‘yes but not as much as me’.”

he is always the little spoon and will fight for his life on this.

cracks out baby book every christmas at the burrow of him and fred. likes to point out that his butt was cuter and that’s how molly could tell them apart. fred and george usually end up arguing over this, fred claiming that george has them mixed up.

fred will naturally throw hands for you because george loves you so much. you are untouchable between those two.

george is so in love with you, it’s ridiculous.

even when he’s mad at you, he ends up taking the blame although you still apologize for upsetting him.

he just can’t rationalize you being anything other than perfect, even when you leave your hair clumps in the shower.

which he calls your ‘mini-me’.

NSFW headcanons.

he cracks jokes during sex. there is no escape.

those forts from earlier? of course you have sex in them. but only after popcorn and movies.

his hidden kink is dressing you up in sexy costumes and fucking you while you wear them.

modern george would lose his shit over you cosplaying and probably help you make your cosplays.

but his favorites would be typical ones. like maid, school girl, nurse, probably princess leia at some point.

his favorite position is you on top while he just hammers into you.

george is a thigh guy. he grabs your thighs more than he drinks water. it’s his sustenance.

he loves morning sex. he’s so sensual and gentle in the mornings. something about the glow of sunrise really gets that man going.

mostly, he gets off by making you feel good and worries far more about your orgasm than his own.

makes bedroom jokes at the most inappropriate times.

*Sitting at the Weasley dinner table* G: *Cracks open fortune cookie and takes out fortune.* G: “Y/n, it says here ‘serious trouble will bypass you - in bed.’” You: “GEORGE WEASLEY it does not say that.”

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Note

hey love ❤️ i hope you’re doing good and healthy but i was wondering if you could do a little mix!reader after she gave birth to tom and her’s child. maybe when the girls meet their niece or nephew

💌

The World’s Greatest Aunties

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader, Little Mix x fem!reader

Summary: The girls finally get to meet Baby Holland for the first time.

Warnings: none, spelling errors?

A/n: Hey darling! Thank you so much for the request, I’m so sorry that it took so long. I took a small break from writing Tom fics and writing in general because I needed to recharge the author part of my brain😭😂 I was lacking motivation to write but I’m back now! Thank you again for the request and I hope you like it!💞

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Pinterest)

✧───── ･｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

Five pairs of eyes peered over the bassinet, a twinkle of admiration in each one. The house was quiet except for the low hums of the music that played softly in the living room. Occasionally, they would hear the light clicks and taps of Tessa’s nails against the floors. The five of them were quiet, letting out a little coo here and there when the tiny bundle in the bassinet fidgeted.

“I can’t believe you actually made a baby.” Leigh-Anne whispered, cautiously steadying her voice at a quieter tone. You all nodded, agreeing to her comment.

You glance at Tom, who was stood beside you, “We weren’t even planning on having a baby. Someone’s pull-out game was just very weak.”

Tom’s mouth gaped at your statement, a false offended look on his features. “Well, you weren’t complaining while it was happening.”

“Did you really think I’d be in the right headspace to realize how bad your pull-out game was after being railed to the bed?” You quizzed him, standing up straight and placing your hands on your hips.

Jesy’s eyes shifted between you and Tom, “Are you two really talking about how irresponsible you guys are at sex in front of the baby you both made—because of irresponsible sex?”

“But isn’t she the cutest outcome of irresponsible sex?” Perrie cooed, leaning closer to the opening of the bassinet. Tom smirks at you before slinging his arm around your shoulder, “We made a beautiful baby, didn’t we?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Thomas, I’m sure Amelia’s 90 percent (Y/n) and 10 percent you.” Jesy comments, earning her some chuckles from the rest of you except for Tom. Though they’ve know each other for years, and he’s proved himself worthy of you, that still didn’t stop Jesy from giving him a hard time. Of course, all the petty arguments were all in good fun. He’s been slowly growing on her anyway.

“Well she’s definitely got (y/n)��s lips.” Leigh-Anne observed, admiring the sweet baby from above. You leaned your head on Tom’s shoulder as you watched Amelia scrunch her tiny nose.

“But her nose, without a doubt, is Tom’s.” You point out, watching your baby snuggle into her blanket.

“Honestly, you know how some babies are just not cute when they’re first born?” Jade began, voice remaining in a whisper. A few sounds of agreement were heard amongst you all. “Amelia’s probably one of the most cutest newborns I’ve ever seen, and she’s only a few weeks old.”

Tom’s lips morph into a soft smile as he leans back down towards Amelia, “She’s gorgeous isn’t she?” His large hand creeping closer to his daughter to brush his fingers along her chubby cheeks. Though the contact of his cold digits made her jolt, causing a sob to bubble out her small body. Tom gasped, turning around to give you an apologetic look. Before the girls arrived, you had put Amelia down for a nap so she wouldn’t be fussy once the girls were over. You were planning on waiting till she woke up to properly introduce her to the girls, but things don’t always go as planned, do they?

“Oh no!” Perrie cried, moving out the way so Tom can gather Amelia into his arms. Tom held her against his chest, shushing her and slightly bouncing his body to ease her wailing.

“I’m so sorry, sunshine. Daddy didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologized, genuinely feeling bad for waking her up from her nap. He whispered comforting words into her ear, not phased by the fact that she couldn’t even understand him yet. He pressed kisses on the crown of Amelia’s head, trying to calm her down.

“Look at that, she even got your vocals too.” Jesy hummed, smiling at the crying baby against Tom’s chest. You laughed, stretching your hands out towards Tom. Just by the gesture, he knew what you meant. The two of you have only been parents for almost a month now and every single day it seemed like you were both picking up new habits—specifically parental ones. It was like the start of your relationship again, you were leaning new things about each other, but this time as parents.

“Aww, c’mere darling, momma’s got you.” You cooed as Tom helped you place her against your chest. Her tiny head was snuggled into the crook of your neck, the warmth coming from your skin soothing her. You had a hand under her bum while the other was rubbing circles onto her back. Slowly, her cries softened until they were replaced by her cute baby gurgles.

“Are you crying?” Perrie asked. You turned around to see who the question was directed to. Only to find Jesy wiping her eyes and fanning them with her hands. She shook her head trying to brush off Perrie’s question.

“Babe,” you called out to her, “Why are you crying?”

You body gently swayed side to side, trying to entertain Amelia. You all looked at Jesy, an amused yet concerned expression on all your faces. When she felt like her tears weren’t about to spill from her eyes, she tilted her head to look at you again.

“I’m just—you’re an actual mother. Like look at you, you’re so grown up.” She sniffed, eyes watering up again. Jesy and the rest of the girls were just a few years older than you. Being the youngest of the group, they’ve always been protective of you and viewed you as their younger sister. They watched you grow up into an amazing woman, watched you fall in love with Tom, and now here you were—as a mother. The sight was quite emotional.

“Aw Jess.” You walk closer to her, using one of your arms to embrace her. Jesy chokes on her laugh, “No! Don’t hug me, you’re gonna make me cry even more.”

You ignore her protests and continue to wrap your arm around her neck. Jesy allows the hug to happen, wrapping both her arms around your waist.

“It’s okay, I cried a few times too.” Tom tells her comfortingly, handing her a tissue from over your shoulder. She takes it, thanking him quietly, and dabbing her eyes. You hear some more sniffles around the room. Breaking your hug with Jesy, you look around to see Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne with glossy eyes.

“Guys...” You sigh.

“It just sunk in that you’re a mum now. Like you need to take care of another human being and help them become a person and all that.” Jade summed up, blinking away tears. Tom took it upon himself to wordlessly pass around tissues to the four women in the room.

Leigh-Anne came up behind you to move your hair over your shoulders, “You’re gonna teach her so many lessons about life. You’re gonna be the first person she’ll always look up to and her first best friend—I’m so excited for you.”

“I have life lessons too, ya know.” Tom interjected, slightly raising his hand. Jesy glances at him and scoffs, “You have the body of a twelve year old and you cry in movies for a living. What could you possibly learn from that?”

“I don’t cry in all my movies.” He defended himself.

You move your head to look at Tom, “Darling, you’ve literally cried in four out of the five Marvel movies you’ve been in. That speaks volumes.”

Jade’s eyes shifted between Jesy and Tom, “I thought we were having a sentimental moment, how did we go from that to hating on Tom.”

“Because, he’s Tom.”

Tom crossed his arms, squinting at you all, “You know, I thought having Amelia would make you guys like me more—but no, I just can’t catch a break from you lot.”

A joyful sound emitted from Amelia, catching everyone’s attention. The girls cooed and awed at the new member of their little family.

“Oh hello precious!” Perrie squealed leaning down beside you so she can see Amelia’s face. Your baby’s eyes were wide as she stared at the faces crowding above her.

“D’you guys wanna hold her?” The girls eagerly nod, bodies filling with excitement. You handed Amelia to Jesy, showing her how to properly hold your newborn baby. With her new niece’s head resting against her shoulder, she feels her heart swell with joy.

“Oh my, she’s lovely.” She whispered softly, her hand cradling Amelia’s head. She ducks her head to get a closer look at her face, chuckling when she sees the combination of you and Tom on Amelia’s features. Jesy catches a whiff of the newborn baby smell radiating off of her—you know, that light weight baby powder-ish smell?

“And she smells so good!” Jesy announced enthusiastically. Perrie frowns, “I wanna smell the baby.”

“Too bad, you can’t.” Jade teases, poking fun at Perrie’s inability to smell. Jesy passes Amelia to Perrie, who makes grabby hands at her before wrapping her arms around Amelia’s tiny form.

“I’m so sorry for exposing you to the media.” She tells the baby, a chorus of laughter following her apology. Perrie gently pokes Amelia’s cheeks with her finger, “Your cheeks! I just want to squish ‘em and smother you with kisses!”

“I think you’ve had enough time with the baby, my turn!” Leigh-Anne jokes, holding her hands out for Amelia. Perrie carefully hands her to Leigh-Anne, who instantly melts once she holds Amelia against her.

“I want one now.” She whines.

“Ask Andre, I’m sure he’ll give you one in no time.” You wink at her, gesturing to the ring on her left hand. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she became pregnant anytime soon. Leigh-Anne took her time holding Amelia, basking in the cloud of baby fever she was currently experiencing. Your daughter was then passed onto Jade, who was thrilled to show her niece all the gifts she had bought her.

You all watched as Jade ventured towards the couch, kindly asking Tom to fetch the large bag that was at your entrance alongside the piles of packages from your family and friends. Ever since you and Tom brought Amelia home, there has been a never ending amount of gifts being delivered to your home. The items ranged from clothes, toys, to diapers, and baby bottles. Your house was practically filled to the brim with baby supplies.

Jade settles on the couch; adjusting Amelia so she can cradle her with her arm and using her free hand to pull out gifts from the bag. You and the rest of the girls sit around her, while Tom looked over the couch behind you.

“You guys really didn’t have to get us anything, just being here and letting us share this moment with you is enough for me.” You expressed, Tom agreeing with you. Jade simply brushed you off, “Oh hush up, let us spoil Amelia. She’s going to be the sixth member of our band, so we need to make sure she’s got the best clothes to look like her mummy and aunties.”

Jade proceeds to pull out a bunch of Disney themed items out from the bag. “Oh you’re gonna love this, I found a bunch off onesies that were princess themed—look!” Jade held up the hanger of multiple Disney onesies for your daughter. “Look Amelia, there’s one for every princess!” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh when Jade began to show every item she bought for Amelia.

Your and Tom’s jaws dropped when she pulled out a Minnie Mouse headband made for babies.

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, lemme see.” Tom held his hand out towards Jade who handed him the headband. You watched adoringly as Tom inspected the headband, looking at it with fascination. He caught your stare and proudly held up the head band, “Baby, we’ve gotta take her to Disney.”

“Oh, we definitely are, don’t worry.” You assure him, making him proudly fist the air. Without any of you noticing, Jesy slipped out the room to get the gift bag she left out at the entrance.

“I’ve got something too!” She sang entering the living room. She sat back on the couch, Jade passing Amelia to her once she was comfortable.

“Alright, ya ready precious?” Jesy asked Amelia, who grabbed at the bag with her hands. Jesy took her hands in hers and helped Amelia ‘take out’ the tissue paper from the bag.

“Since I know your parents are two of the biggest Harry Potter nerds, I decided to get you this because I know they’ll flip.” She explained before pulling out a baby Hogwarts costume.

“Jesy!” You gasped, leaning in to get a closer look at the clothes.

“They have Harry Potter merch for babies?” Tom exclaimed, rushing to stand behind Jesy’s part of the couch. He began to ramble, asking her where she bought the clothes and if there were more.

Jesy held her hand out to stop Tom from talking, “Wait, wait—WAIT, Jesus Thomas, you’re more excited for these clothes than your daughter.”

Tom shrugged, “Well she can’t express any feelings yet, so I’ll do it.”

“Here.” She passed the costume to him making him cheer. “The costume came with another thing actually.” Jesy took out a baby Hogwarts robe, making you gasp again.

“It comes with the robes too?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, it was an entire set!” Jesy proudly answered. Tom ran his hand along the robe, touching the soft fabric. He let out a squeal, “I love it!”

“Tom darling, the clothes are for Amelia, not you.” Perrie teasingly reminded him. Tom brushes off her comment, “(Y/n), we could all dress up as Hogwarts students for Halloween! We could match costumes!” Tom was practically buzzing with excitement, not allowing you to give him a response.

“Thank you Jesy, it’s nice to know that you have a soft spot for me.” He bumped his fist against her shoulder, which she glared at.

“I don’t have a soft spot for you, twit.”

“Yes you do, you knew I liked Harry Potter.” He held up the Hogwarts costume, “And you got Amelia a baby Hogwarts costume. You went out of your way to give us this gift. It’s enough proof, Jes.”

“I got it for (Y/n).” Jesy argued.

Tom crossed his arms, “Just admit that you like me.”

“No, you’re a menace.” You all watched the exchange between the two. A goofy grin was on his face as he spread his arms out, “I’m gonna hug you now.” Before Jesy can respond, Tom had wrapped his arms around Jesy. She groaned, squirming in his grip.

“Thank you Jesy!” He sang, taking the piss out of annoying her. She smacked his arm, “I get it. Now get off, I’m holding your child!”

Tom lets go with a smile on his face.

“She likes me.” He mouthed to you, motioning to Jesy. You shook your head at him, chuckling.

The girls continued to give Amelia their gifts. Perrie got her a bunch of classic children’s books and some toys. Leigh-Anne had given you a diaper bag and a “mommy and me” set of clothes. You were instantly obsessed with the matching sets, now you and your baby girl can have matching outfits. The night was full of the girls passing Amelia around and playing with her. She hadn’t cried for a single second, happy with the attention she was getting and constantly being held. There was no doubt that she would sleep soundly tonight, much to your and Tom’s content.

You watched as the girls circled around Amelia in the living room. Perrie was currently holding her, talking about how she couldn’t wait to spoil her with all the cutest baby clothes and toys. You overheard them talking about all the things they wanted to teach her; like how to sing. A smile had crept its way onto your lips without you noticing. Suddenly a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

Tom presses a kiss onto your shoulder and rests his chin on it, “You know she’s the luckiest baby in the world? And I’m not just saying that because she’s our child, but she’s really lucky. We’re very lucky.”

“We are, aren’t we?” You hum, leaning your weight against his chest, something he happily welcomes.

“She’s got two amazing parents. That’s us.” He squeezes you and continues his list, “She has grandparents who already love her, a bunch of protective uncles, and the world’s greatest aunties in her corner.” He finished, gesturing to the women in the living room. Yeah, you guys were lucky.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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#Tom Holland #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #little mix #perrie edwards #jesy nelson #leigh anne pinnock #jade thirlwall #thomas stanley holland #ally’s requests

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cower-before-power · 3 years ago

Text

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon. “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles. “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey @chaotic-nick @manjiroarchiviste

#meet cute collab #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Solace (part 2)

SOLACE (part 2)

A part two but kinda works as a stand alone!!

A/n y’all seemed to like the first one so I thought I’d make a part two :)) This was NOT meant to be a series but now I kind of have an idea to make this a mini series where each part is kind of a blurb that connects to the last part and I think I might do that.

Pairing: General Kirigan/the Darkling x Heartrender! reader

Summary: The day after you go visit General Kirigan at night is also the day he decides he can become more honest about his intentions for you. The softness of it all is starting to get to you but you have a good friend to remind you that it’s okay to feel happy.

The sunlight peers into the room shyly. It stirs me awake into a soft bliss. Warmth. When was the last time I woke up feeling so warm? So rested? I squint my eyes open, still calm. But when my vision finally adjusts, I feel like ice all over again. This is not where I’m supposed to be.

Memories of sneaking here in the darkness of night, speaking to Kirigan so freely, and then letting him convince me to stay. He had seemed to want me here then, in the night when loneliness finds easy prey in even the most hardened individuals...but now, in the morning sunlight--he’ll regret it. We made it clear I’d stay only that night--and that night is now gone. Maybe he expects me to be gone before he rises. I know that’s what most men expect after taking company for the night, but we didn’t exactly partake in activities like that. I think what we did is worse.

Relations like that are about desire, falling asleep with someone else borders on intimacy. One misstep and who knows what I’ll invoke? I shift my gaze upwards, careful to not move in hopes of not disturbing the arms he’s draped across my back, holding me to him. Kirigan seems different in sleep, softer. His features are still sharp, but there’s something gentle about seeing him vulnerable. Something about the way his lashes brush against his cheeks and his lips stay parted just slightly. This moment can never repeat itself. It can never happen again, so I’ll have to hold onto this.

Cautiously, I prepare to slip out of his grasp even though it feels like its the only thing tethering me to this world. I touch his first hand, moving it off of me slowly. I wait a second, and when he remains unstirring I move his other hand.

“What are you so eager for, little wolf?” The raspy, tired quality of his voice leaves my stomach fluttering. His words jar me so much I find myself frozen.

He reaches lazily, placing an arm on the center of my back, trying to ease me back into place. “It’s morning now.”

His thumb brushes up and down my back in a way meant to lull me. “I’m the Shadow Summoner, the night lasts as long as I want it to.” He lets out an easy breath, “And I’m prolonging it.”

Ignoring the warmth the implications of his words bring, I decide to focus on how dramatic he is. “Dramatic even so early in the morning.”

Kirigan’s eyes flutter open, the slightest smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Watch yourself, little wolf.” There is no malice in his voice, only something hinting at teasing too humane for me to trust.

I roll my eyes, letting his fingers brush wherever he wants them to--up and down my back, down the arms I am too aware of. The desire to touch him easily, casually, just to prove that I have that privilege. I stretch, pushing down thoughts of rejection as I place a hand on his chest. He pauses, one hand frozen in place on my back. Slowly, he moves his hand away from me. I tense, preparing to retract my hand. He catches my hand before I can pull it away, moving it towards him easily until my hand is against his cheek.

“Y/n.” He’s called me my name so few times, and the restraint in his voice leaves me unnerved. “Will you wear a black kefta today?”

His color. Perhaps he meant the promise of solace more literally than I thought. Anyone who sees me will think I’ve been claimed by him in one way or another. Perhaps I have been. The thought stirs my chest, moving me in a way I can’t distinguish as a positive or negative. I feel myself being ensnared in a lovely trap, but when I look at him, at the honesty burning in his gaze, it’s almost as if he’s asking me to claim him.

“Yes.” Again the word leaves me as if willed by some outside force.

Kirigan’s intensity dwindles slightly. His hand drops from over mine, but I keep mine on his cheek, running my thumb across his skin. “You’ll do good for me today, little wolf.” His words leave no room for argument. I think speaking like that is a talent of his. “You always do so good for me.” The admiration in his words melt something in me, my entire body warmed in a way I don’t understand. Kirigan brushes his knuckles across my cheek again.

I’ve been silent for too long, each second I waste inflating his ego. “You’re suspiciously nice in the mornings.”

“You’re only skeptical because you never let anyone take care of you.” His words are chiding and the implication of them leaves my face warm. “So much promise,” he muses, hand trailing down my jawline, “So much power,” his fingers skim down my neck and across my collarbone. “I wonder what someone like you could do with an amplifier.”

An amplifier. I’ve seen them in use, and knowing what I could do with something that strengthens my already abrasive abilities. I could be a monster so easily. Kirigan must see some of my concern because he’s quick to sit up a little more in order to close the distance between us the way he did last night. He brushes his lips against my collarbone in a way that leaves me distracted by wanting. A wanting for what, I’m not sure. I ease into his touch.

“Today everyone will know what you are.” His voice is gentle against the base of my neck. “And they will know that we are meant to be equals.”

I feel the need to panic rise in my chest, but it’s dulled by the warmth his lips leave against my skin. “I’m only a Heartrender, I can’t be your equal.”

“You are,” he whispers, so assured, “With a heart as good as yours you may even be more.”

His words are too weighted for so early in the morning, but there is always tension with him. Shadows are meant to be weightless but I think they’re like anything else--carry enough of them and eventually you’ll break.

When he straightens I move to follow him, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. “You’re good, too.” There has to be goodness in him. No one capable of such warmth and gentleness can be made up entirely of wicked things.

“You claimed I was a villain.”

Did my words really impact him so? “My opinion isn’t law.”

Something strange flickers across his features. “It might as well be.”

I swallow back a bundle of nerves. “Sometimes I’m wrong.”

The words crack something vulnerable in me. A part of me thinks he can feel the part of me that’s breaking in hopes of offering him something.

“You really are my solace.” I don’t know how to reciprocate such a gilded sentiment.

I rest my head against his shoulder, taking his hand. “I’m glad to be that.”

He squeezes my hand. “We should go get ready before people start to notice our absence.”

I consider reminding him what he told me last night, but he has a point. There’s a difference between a rumor of me pacing in the night and both of us showing up late at the same time. Still though, a part of me is already grieving this version of Kirigan. Outside of this room his coldness will return. ‘Just for tonight’. We had agreed on that. But when the night ended, and the morning sun colored us both sane again, he had asked me to wear his color.

“I’ll go get dressed,” I stay still.

Kirigan runs his thumb over my knuckles. “I’ll have a black kefta sent to you.”

That has to mean something. Wait--do I want it to mean something? I pull my hand away from his stiffly, standing because I know the longer I’ll wait the worse it will be. “I’ll see you during training.”

“My door will be unlocked after.”

At that, my chest swells. He’s offered me an opening. “Good to know.”

His eyes narrow slightly at my coyness. “Find me after?”

“Only because you’re nicer in here.” He wants me to come back.

The black kefta does not feel like my own. The color is too alluring, too dark and enthralling. It is not meant for someone like me. It feels borrowed, but I’m not entirely uncomfortable. It’s almost like he’s still with me, keeping me from being alone.

When I walk down the halls, I feel the stares of the others sticking to me like tar. They barely tolerated me before--the grisha plucked from the slums after a fateful night in which Kirigan saw the extent of my abilities.

“New clothes, l/n?”

Julian’s words coax an easy smile from me. Always so open, so accepting. Even now he doesn’t pester me about the black kefta. “I barely noticed.”

My lack of real response earns me a playful glare. “Is that the only explanation I get? Moving up the ranks without me?”

I roll my eyes. He’s joking, but he’s drawing more eyes to me. “I’m not leaving you, Julian.” He’s been too good a friend for me to leave. “Nothing’s changed except the color of my clothing.”

“Good.” Julian’s lips twitch upwards, offering me the kind of smile that’s earned him many trysts with many women. “I’d miss you too much.”

And while I doubt that my disappearance would do anything else than up his popularity, I appreciate the sentiment. “Oh I’m sure you’d find a way to find company.”

He half laughs, “What are you implying of my virtue?”

Laughing, I roll my eyes as we continue to walk down the halls. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

Julian reaches for me, touching my forearm. I stall. “In all seriousness, y/n, I really appreciate your friendship.”

Aw. Never did I think I’d have so many people to appreciate here. I think of Kirigan, of the vulnerability in his words and the new facet of him I saw last night that I somehow always knew he had in him. He may be a villain, or just one in the making, but he is more than a dark shadow. I find myself releasing I appreciate Kirigan too. It’s different than the way I care about Julian, more fragile, but it’s still a relationship I’ve created here.

I look down at the space where his hand touches my forearm. “I really appreciate your friendship, too. You’ve gotten me through a lot.”

“You need to give yourself some credit.” He releases my arm, turning to continue to walk forward.

I turn as well, “You should too.”

I look forward, and there, in the near distance is Kirigan. He’s staring at me, eyes lacking everything he had earlier. I offer him a small smile. He does not return it, his drops slowly to the ground. Weird. I guess he’s just turning on his indifference for a day of training. He asked me to wear his color, he asked me to come back.

Does he regret it? Maybe it was a premature request for me to wear his color so publicly. His gaze finds mine again, and with a tilt of his head he gestures for me to follow him.

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #general kirigan #genereal kirigan x reader #genereal kirigan imagine #grisha #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grisha reader #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #imagine #x reader #my works

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

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request; Can I request Nagito, Kokichi, and Rantaro with an s/o that has a hard time understanding why someone feels a certain emotion in situations?

pairing(s); rantaro x gn!reader, nagito x gn!reader, kokichi x gn!reader

warnings; blood, violence, broken noses, strong language, kind of angsty — sorry that nagito's is super long- i started off with him and i haven't written in a long time so i just shit all over the place, fluff at kokichi, i have mood swings I'm so sorry about the whiplash you are about to witness

note; yesss i am back to finish these requests yurrrrrr sjansjdhfbasdkjfds I'm not gonna make a big announcement or anything(I'm still trying to figure out how to balance everything in my life rn, so I'm sorry for people who are waiting on me—) , just gonna spit out as many finished requests as i can, sorry for the abrupt pause of everything by the wayz ill be (hopefully) regularly posting works from now on.

(also this request was kind of vague, so i used the example of someone getting upset/angry and reader not understanding why; i hope that's okay :'))

Nagito Komaeda

◊ I think Nagito would understand your struggles more than anyone else.

◊ And… honestly, it kind of reassures him that you share a struggle with him. It makes him feel less alone, less like the odd one out.

◊ Being similar to someone like you in any way, even if it was a genuinely difficult and real struggle; was a blessing in disguise for someone as lowly as him.

◊ Getting that out of the way, Nagito would never see your struggle as what it is. The way he views you, how highly he puts you up on a pedestal, as well as how much hope he believes you to hold; he, at first*, won't help you at all with your struggles.

◊ As a strong believer of hope overcoming despair, good defeating bad; Nagito is positive that the struggles you hold will always be defeated, bludgeoned into a despairing sludge by your all-mighty hope.

◊ And at first, he won't even think of this as a bad thing! You should be proud of it, of course, unless it stirs despair within you.

◊ * That being said, if he sees you struggling with your inability to understand human reactions to an awful point, he would put his obsession with hope aside, and focus on trying to help you as your boyfriend.

◊ Though I'm afraid, he wouldn't be much of a help, because he gets stuck on this one too.

◊ If you ever unintentionally angered someone, however, and/or provoked them to potentially hurt you; he'd immediately step in and lay the damp washcloth of apologies on the accidental fire you had set.

◊ Though there is a high chance, he'll make it worse by saying something he hadn't intended to sound condescending. It just came out that way.

◊ Nagito would never put your well-being before his insatiable need for you to accelerate and empower your hope.

◊ He's your boyfriend before he is your admirer of hope.

— "What...? How can you- how can you be so calm!?" Confusion, fear, and intimidation seemed to overwhelm you as you stepped back, eyebrows creased in utmost confusion as the person before you, seemed to have been angered by your wording.

Suddenly, you had started repeating and reversing over what you had previously said, scanning your wording for things that could have been perceived as offensive; only to grow even more confused as you had found none.

"I... What? Are you... are you mad at me or something?" Your genuine tone of voice, as well as the genuine look of confusion on your face, had been blurred and unnoticed as the ugly emotion of anger seemed to destroy their human senses— and the person had unfortunately taken your question as an insult.

Without another word, the sickening crunch of flesh and bone hitting flesh and bone echoed throughout the trial room. Flesh and bone that had thankfully, and unfortunately, hadn't belonged to you.

"Holy- Someone hold them back!"

"There's... no need for that...!"

Turns out Nagito took the hit for you.

He peeled the hand tending to his nose away from his face, revealing the nasty bruising and the blood dripping down his nostril—despite the gruesome sight of it all, he still seemed to be smiling. Smiling as if something amazing had just happened, and he was dying from the joy he had been feeling.

He wasted no time to spew out whatever he could think of, despite the shock and adrenaline from getting a broken nose, he still fought through the struggle to speak properly, as well as merely breathing without immense pain.

It was like second nature to him, to steer the blame and the aggression away from you—even if it almost killed him. Anything... to protect his hope.

"Haha, this is... Whatever you need to achieve your hope, whether it be a good old-fashioned beat-down or... murder;" a laugh crossing the line to psychotic erupted from Nagito's scratchy throat.

"I personally invite you all—especially (name)—to bruise me up and brutally murder me for your pleasure, and your hop!" —all at the expense of him making sure no one gets the chance to lay a single finger laid onto you.

◊ He loves you, and he swears this is out of (mostly) good intention <3?

◊ i- i think i lost it somewhere in the middle

Rantaro Amami

◊ Literally, the most understanding, supportive, and comforting man you will ever meet and have as an emotional support boyfriend when you struggle with humans and just... humans.

◊ For first impressions, Rantaro will remain as understanding as he already had been, and is. If he visibly sees you struggle with the reactions of others to specific situations, he'd never start up shit, as well as assume you mean something bad immediately. He will always give you the benefit of the doubt, and the fact that he loves you may have been a factor — but I swear, he does this with everyone else too.

◊ If you ever responded/reacted to something that normal human beings usually respond differently, Rantaro would definitely notice, but he wouldn't say anything until he had his suspicions confirmed — and until someone else decided to get pissy or upset about it.

◊ If you ever get into a conflict with someone about how you seem emotionless( even though you're really not ), Rantaro will always be there to defend you and back you up. The first thing he would do is try to understand your side, then their side, and then try to see how the two fit together, and how you both grew to have your reaction.

◊ Most conflicts and arguments end peacefully, at fault to Rantaro's experience of being exposed to many personality types(his sisters), and completely normal and human struggles(also his sisters).

◊ Though, notice how I said most.

◊ Some situations and arguments, really can't be resolved, nor looked past—especially when personal, and very strong feelings are involved. You really can't avoid it when people are still grieving.

◊ But even so, Rantaro will remain a mediator and a peace-keeper until the end; he doesn't and never has enjoyed violence or super over-the-line arguments.

— "N- no, I a- actually don't understand...! I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, shut up! No one's believing that crap!" The shock and the hurt from their words had visibly affected you — the disbelief and their rage hadn't done anything to calm your anxiety from not having understood what had been wrong.

Rantaro would intrude on the one-sided argument, a gentle yet nervous smile on his face as he tried to put some distance between you and the person who had gotten offended. "Hey now, I understand you're upset, but it'll be safer for all of us if you don't insult them. I'm sure this was just a big misunderstanding... let's sit down, yeah?"

◊ If you ever feel frustrated or upset about a past interaction with someone he had reacted in a way you hadn't expected, feel free to expect Rantaro to be there for you with his comfort. Whether it be assurances, hugs, or just a listening ear; he'll be there for you.

◊ He may not understand your struggles to an extreme extent, but he will try his best to empathize with you and to understand you; and if he doesn't? That's okay. Because he still has cuddles + listening to you rant as his plan B solution on getting your frustrations out.

Kokichi Ouma

◊ Kokichi... doesn't understand you at all.

◊ It's second nature to him to react abnormally or to over-exaggerate towards something that probably shouldn't have gained a reaction like that — but that doesn't necessarily mean that had been his true reaction from the start.

◊ They're lies, well, most of it.

◊ When Kokichi notices your confusion, or if you come to him about your frustrations; he won't believe you at first. It's a stupid thing to not trust someone about, yeah, but he lies all the time about this kind of thing — so not only would he feel terrible if you were telling the truth about your real struggle, he would-

◊ Oh, you're telling the truth?

◊ ... Oh.

◊ Well, of course, he feels horrible for his past faked reactions and lies. A part of him believes it to be his fault entirely, whilst the larger, louder part of him believes it to be someone else's fault.

◊ And he's a liar; so of course, he'll lie. To himself, at least.

◊ "Wha—!? Who's been confusing my beloved? Gimme names and I'll get 'em!"

◊ He's not much of a listener, nor a person who really just... talks about serious shit. So despite not wanting to talk directly about serious things, as well as not being the best at comforting you in a 'serious' manner, he has his own little way of dimming your frustrations with human beings.

◊ He won't show it, nor will he mention it, but he does try to be more transparent with you; as well as tries to be less confusing when talking and/or interacting with you.

◊ The reactions are dimmed down, and despite that, he still continues to be silly and still continues to joke around — just not in a way that'll frustrate or confuse you(ish). He's all about getting reactions out of you, especially frustration but, he wouldn't purposely augment your anxiety about this type of thing.

◊ ^^ If he was to do that, however, he would always tell you it was a lie afterwards. After all— despite enjoying the thought of you thinking of him all week—he doesn't want you stressing and/or overthinking about it for the rest of the week.

◊ Kokichi definitely feels guilty of your struggles, however, they may have not blossomed directly from him, he still feels horrible for triggering it? You? — look- what he's trying to say is, he feels awful, and he hadn't meant to make your struggle with understanding other human beings, worse.

◊ Though there are times he does find your confusion and gullibility to be sort of entertaining in a way, but he would constantly feel bad about finding pleasure in your frustration.

◊ Kind of bad.

— "Nishishi! I'm just saying, if someone took a fat shit on my lawn, I would thank them—"

"Wh- Seriously.. ? Why??"

◊ He finds it hilarious how you seem to take his words to heart, but of course, fun comes to an end as he says—

— "Nope! It's a lie!"

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final-fantasy-imagines · 3 years ago

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Hmm. Hi?

I've been consuming your writings for about an hour or so, now and I have to say that I'm really enjoying my time here. Really, like a LOT! 😍

Since you opened the ask box, I would like to ask a headcanon with Vincent Valentine, Tseng and Cloud with a really good cook girlfriend? Maybe proving her food for the first time?

Hope I'm not being too much obnoxious with this request.

Have a nice day/night/week-end!

😘😘

Hey there, dearie! Thank you so much for your sweet compliment, you have no idea how happy it makes me to know that you enjoy my content so much! <3 And don't worry, your request was perfectly fine and I really enjoyed working on it. I hope you like what I came up with and don't mind that I decided to keep the reader gender-neutral since I felt that gender didn't matter with this request! Have a good day/night too and stay safe! <3

Reblogs are very much appreciated.

characters: Vincent Valentine, Tseng, Cloud Strife

Having an s/o who’s a great cook (gn!reader)

Vincent Valentine

Vincent is someone who wants to know his partner as good as possible, so he’s probably well aware of the fact that you’re a passionate cook. However, since he spends a lot of time away from home, he never had the opportunity to try one of your dishes and therefore has no idea how awesome your cooking actually is.

When you suggest cooking something for him after he returned from a mission he surely won’t dismiss your offer, not only because he’s hungry and exhausted but also because he knows how much you enjoy preparing food, especially for others. He even asks if he can help you with anything, although he’s not the biggest fan of cooking and any related tasks. So, if you tell him that you don’t need his help, he’s really relieved but a tiny part of him still feels a bit bad because you’re doing all the work alone.

He joins you in the kitchen nevertheless, careful not to get in your way, to keep you company while you cook. There’s something really calming about watching your routine, and it also gives him a sense of home which is something he rarely experienced in the past and therefore cherishes very much. It’s also a nice opportunity to have a little chat about the things that happened while he was away and o catch up with each others’ lives.

Vincent is absolutely taken aback by the quality of your cooking. He rarely gets excited over anything but you know him well enough to notice the subtle changes in his behavior, e.g. how he stares at the food for a few seconds after the first bite or how he starts to eat very slowly because he wants to savor each bite. He doesn’t have to tell you that it tastes amazing since everything about his behavior shows how much he enjoys the food but he still makes sure to compliment you for your awesome cooking skills every so often.

Tseng

Tseng knows how passionate you are about cooking and trying out different recipes and he’s also aware of the quality of your cooking. To say that he’s a big fan of your dishes would be an understatement because Tseng absolutely loves your cooking. There’s literally nothing you can’t turn into a tasty dish which is something he really admires about you.

He knows a few basics about cooking and can actually prepare food without setting the kitchen on fire, so the two of you sometimes try to cook together which often leads to him getting a bit frustrated because he can’t do anything right in your eyes. It’s not that you get into a full-fledged argument about the correct way to chop up an onion but since Tseng really likes being in the right it always ends up in a playful discussion. However, if things get too serious Tseng will always apologize afterwards because he realizes how stupid it is to start a fight over something like that.

It’s not a secret that some of his colleagues are quite jealous of him because he always brings the best meals for lunch, be it leftovers from the previous day or something you prepared especially for him. The others usually get something from the cafeteria which doesn’t taste half as good as your cooking, so they sometimes try to convince him to bring a bit more, so that he can share the food with them.

He never misses an opportunity to compliment you about your dishes, especially when you try out some new recipes and are insecure if the result is actually good if it there’s anything you could do to improve the taste. Sometimes, Tseng makes a few suggestions about adding some different spices or herbs but most of the time, there’s really nothing to complain about when it comes to your dishes.

Cloud Strife

Cloud can’t cook at all, even if his life depended on it, so he’s more than grateful to have a partner who’s good at it and also enjoys it as much as you do. You sometimes tease him about it and joke around that he’d be starving to death if he didn’t have you, and he always rolls his eyes and insists that you’re absolutely over-exaggerating – which you’re definitely not.

It’s probably best to keep him out of the kitchen because he’d set it on fire before producing something that’s actually edible. However, if you have the patience to teach him, he’s willing to learn at least some basics to help you with the preparations and stuff like that. He’s a quick learner but you’d still have to be patient with him because he won’t master the correct techniques right away. These cooking lessons are always quite funny and, much to the surprise of you both, end with an actually tasty dish most of the time.

He’s really thankful that you always offer to prepare a quick meal for him when he comes back home. Other days, when it’s particularly late and you have already gone to bed, he often finds a little note from you, right next to the fridge or a container of food you have cooked earlier. He appreciates that you always make sure that he gets something to eat, no matter what time of the day it is.

Since he’s not a picky eater at all, he’s willing to try even the weirdest dishes you cook. He’s like your personal human guinea pig when it comes to new recipes, although he can’t really tell you if there’s something missing or what else you could add to improve the taste. He also tries his best to cheer you up when a dish doesn’t turn out as good as you would have liked it, reassuring you that you’re still the best cook he has ever encountered because he wants to see you smiling again.

Taglist: @cosmicdarlingx @thevoidwriting @sixdaysofsilverashes @fandomatakeover18 @randomfandomimagine

#vincent valentine x reader #vincent ff7 x reader #tseng ff7 x reader #tseng x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud ff7 x reader #ff7 x reader #ff7 imagines #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #ff7 headcanons

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mkellc · 2 years ago

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𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂𝗽 𝗳𝗼𝗿 @ahoyren !!

hiiiiii

you requested stranger things and percy jackson and i really wanna write for both these fandoms but i have other matchups i need to do aswell i’m sorry, but i hope you still like this one!

i had to ruin my blog aesthetic for this grrr but its ok bc I adore this character

(also, we are one in the same bestie, I have literally the exact same style and hair and im also a intj, and have the same music taste 🙏🙏)

ok sorry for rambling here’s your matchup:

𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗼𝗻 !!

eddie is a more laid back, goofy person who likes to have fun and is very immersed in his interests, specifically being a nerd for dnd and playing guitar. His personality is sarcastic and humorous as well as his outward appearance being almost scary. although people say “opposites attract” i think the same goes for people who are similar. which is exactly the case for you and eddie. this is because of your similarities of being passionate with your interests and being a bit intimidating on the outside. also the fact that the different things you both love are rlly nerdy (lol me too) so it would just be two nerds in love, what a great match.

hcs:

the first time eddie saw you he was like “whoa,… cool”

your style and hair immediately caught his eye

he watched you from afar for a while, noticing your sarcasm and wit before deciding to approach you

when he did he was met with almost complete silence, which he was not expecting

but he was interested in how you were shy and quiet even though he had seen what you’re like around your friends

he started finding excuses to hang out with you and be around you because you were so intriguing that he wanted to know more about you

eventually you became very close friends and then lovers 🤩

he admires your passion for the things you love and finds your music taste awesome

he always asks if he can read whatever you’re writing and if you say no he’s just like “damn,” but if you say yes he will grab the paper/whatever you’re writing on and twirl around with a smile then read it

he lets you borrow his rings

he tries to teach you how to play guitar but won’t let you touch his guitar (like bruh it’s not that deep just gimme the guitar) eventually he will let you touch it though

but if you like singing he will play guitar to some songs you like so you can sing them if you want

i like to think eddie’s love language is mostly quality time, but im sure he would also love physical touch once he finds out that you like it, and he would try his best with words of affirmation

because he is so much taller than you, he would love trying to pick you up for you to wrap your legs around his torso and kiss you that way rather than leaning down

in an argument, neither of you want to back down, but most times you decide to be adults about it and solve it rather quickly. and then one of you (usually eddie) is like “um, y/n, can we go get pizza now?”

overall your relationship is full of fun and inside jokes, you always make each other laugh and each of you become another thing the other is crazily passionate about

a/n: i’m sorry if i got eddie’s personality wrong or wrote their or anything, this is the first time i’ve written for him and he hasn’t been in the show that much yet either lmao 💀

i hope you like it and i’m rlly sorry if you don’t but either way have a good day/night!! <3

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things #matchups

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA:

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

#bnha 302 #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki enji #endeavor #todoroki rei #todoroki shouto #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #my sincerest apologies for this absurdly long recap which is barely funny at all!#THERE WAS VERY LITTLE HUMOROUS CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER #congratulations horikoshi you win this round

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wolferine · 3 years ago

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Forgiven

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: One-shot sequel to my “Unforgivable” series. After being paralyzed in an accident, Natasha reunites with her lover who caused the accident in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, language

Word count: 2300

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13

AN: This one’s for you, @allhailthelesbian! :)

You do not have to read the previous story to follow this one!

Something shifts in your arms and you instinctively tighten them, feeling a tickle of hair across your nose.

“Y/N,” Natasha whispers, “You squeeze me any harder and I’m gonna choke to death.”

“Huh?” You loosen your arms and open your eyes, finding your red-haired, green-eyed beauty staring back at you.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning.” You close your eyes again and press your foreheads together.

“Ready for a workout?” she asks.

You chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those.”

She traces her finger over your bicep. While you’ve lost some weight in the past few months, you’ve still got some wiry strength, but you know you have some catching up to do.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” she says. “But my legs don’t even work and I’m not using that as an excuse.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. “Five more minutes?”

“Fine. Only because I need your help getting to the bathroom, anyway.”

“Oh.” Your eyes fly back open. Although Natasha’s been living with her condition for more than six months, it’s still your first week back with her and sometimes you forget her needs are different than before you left. “I can just get up now—” you start.

“It’s fine,” she says, pushing you back onto the bed as you try to sit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Ask me again in five minutes.” She snuggles closer to you and her breath is hot against your collarbone. You close your eyes again and feel her touch the starburst of a scar on your cheek from where her bullet had struck your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“When I fired my gun, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she says. “I just wanted to distract you. But then my bullet bounced off the pole and hit you in the face.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, knowing you’ve done far worse to her. A minor blemish was nothing compared to losing control of your legs.

Ten minutes later, Natasha announces she needs to use the bathroom. You sit up without being told twice and pick her up bridal-style, carrying her into the bathroom. Tony had made some modifications, such as adding handlebars near the toilet and inside the shower and lowering the medicine cabinet for easier access.

“Can you bring my wheelchair in? So you don’t have to keep carrying me back and forth,” Natasha asks as you help situate her on the toilet.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“But I do,” she says.

Without argument, you move her wheelchair from the bedroom to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me,” you say, closing the door and going to change into a tank top and shorts. When you’re done, you hear water running in the sink and can’t help asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Uh-huh! Jus’ brushin’ my teef!”

“Okay! Take your time.” You don’t want to be overbearing but you want to be ready to help when she needs it. Tony had talked to you about how independent she was; she insisted on learning how to do everything for herself, not liking the help of caregivers or nurses.

Obviously, she was more comfortable asking you for help than a stranger, but you knew her well enough to know that she hated showing any signs of vulnerability, even if she really needed help.

Natasha rolls out of the bathroom and you trade spots with her, using the toilet and brushing your teeth. When you come out, she’s by the closet with her back towards you. She has on a workout shirt and struggles to pull a pair of shorts up her legs.

“Do you need some help?” you ask. Tony had told you to always ask first instead of jumping right in.

“Yes, please.” Natasha sighs. The shorts are hooked around her feet. “It’s…It’s a little hard for me to reach sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You kneel and shimmy the shorts over her knees.

“Can you pick me up so I can pull them on?” she asks.

“Sure.” You wrap your arms under hers and gently lift her high enough for her to pull the shorts up to her hips.

“Thanks.” You set her back down and help her put her shoes on. “All ready?”

“Let’s go.”

You go down to the Avengers’ state-of-the-art gym, containing every single piece of workout equipment you’re humanly aware of. There are weights up to the ton and a 12-foot deep Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“What did you have in mind today?” you ask as you walk next Natasha. She rolls suspiciously close to the swimming pool and you wish you could squeeze yourself on the other side of her to make sure she doesn’t fall in.

“Leg day,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Kidding!” Natasha laughs when suddenly, her wheelchair catches on the end of a loose pool noodle someone had left out and she launches from her wheelchair into the pool. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, you would’ve cried from laughter, but instead your heart drops to your feet and you jump into action—literally.

“Nat!” you scream, diving in headfirst. Underwater, you open your eyes, letting the chlorine burn into them, and see the blurry shape of Natasha bobbing up to the surface. You swim towards her and when lift your head to take a breath, you find her howling in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” you ask, coughing up a mouthful of water.

“I’ve been swimming every day since the accident, babe,” she says, doing a much better job of treading water than you. And she doesn’t even have use of her legs. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Well, I might.” Your head dips under and you swallow a mouthful of water. Natasha wraps her hand around your arm and yanks you up.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Haven’t…swam…in a while,” you choke.

“So, you thought you could jump in and save me when you can barely save yourself?” Natasha shakes her head, but admires your blinding love for her. She drags you over to the wall and grabs the pool noodle. “Use this.”

You bend the noodle under your arms, grateful for the moment of rest.

“Okay, let’s go do a few laps now!” She paddles away before you can protest. Grudgingly, you kick after her.

***********************************************************************

An hour later, you’re so exhausted you can barely walk and you’re tempted to ask Natasha if she’ll let you sit on her lap while you go back up to your room.

“Shower together?” Natasha asks, and there’s a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Sure.” You’ve already seen there’s plenty of room for the both of you. First, you get Natasha settled into her shower chair before you turn around and take your dripping workout clothes off.

It’s the first time she’s seen you naked since you left. Her eyes trace over the visible bones of your ribs and the scars crisscrossing your back. There’s a burn in the shape of a triangle on the back of your left shoulder, where Hammer had tried to brand you with his logo. Because he didn’t see you as a person, but his property.

Natasha knows that although she’s had a difficult past six months, you had been in your own hell.

You turn towards her and see the sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

She doesn’t say anything and offers her hand, pulling you into the shower. You turn on the water, removing the showerhead from the wall to spray over the both of you. There is nothing sexual in any of your actions as you help each other shampoo your hairs and wash your bodies. However, the closeness is still intimate and comforting.

Afterwards, you both dry off and get dressed, going into the kitchen for breakfast. Falling back into a routine with your girlfriend—even after six months—is the easiest thing you ever did. But even though it’s almost like you never left, things aren’t exactly the same, and you want to make up for the lost time as much as you can.

***********************************************************************

When lunchtime rolls around, Natasha suggests taking you to your favorite diner. You haven’t driven a car in six months, so you’re a little nervous when you go down to the garage, until Natasha insists that she’ll drive instead. She takes you over to her black Corvette Stingray, which never fails to make you whistle.

You help her into the driver’s seat, noticing the specialized hand control Tony installed so she could work the pedals with a hand lever. You make a mental note to thank him again for being so generous in caring for your girlfriend in your absence. When you sit in the passenger seat, it feels just like old times.

“Don’t crash,” you tease.

“Oh, please,” Natasha scoffs. “I can’t even use my legs and I’m still a better driver than you.”

“Ouch.”

You watch as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her left hand while her right hand pushes and pulls on the handle for the brake and gas pedal.

“You look so badass,” you say.

She looks at you and smiles. “I know.”

“I think I’ll just have you drive me around from now on.” You close your eyes and relax in the seat.

When you arrive at the diner’s parking lot, Natasha skips over the blue handicapped stalls and parks across from them.

“You don’t want to park there?” you ask, pointing to an empty blue stall.

She shakes her head. “Maybe someone else needs it more than me,” she says. “After all, they don’t have you to carry them around.” She tries to make a joke out of it, but you can tell she’s a little embarrassed. It’s also the reason she’s so hesitant to drive her Corvette around: most people who see it assume she’s a jackass trying to take advantage of a handicapped spot.

She’s had people scratch her doors and leave ugly notes on the windshield. One time, before she even had the chance to get out of the car, a group of people had gathered at her door to cuss her out. Their red faces of embarrassment and stuttered apologies when Tony helped her into her wheelchair was something she would never forget.

You get her wheelchair out of the trunk and set it next to her door, helping her into it. Inside the restaurant, the waitress removes one of the chairs at your table so Natasha can sit next to you. You don’t even bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what you want.

You end up finishing all of your food and Natasha’s leftovers, and she can only laugh at your appetite.

“Hammer didn’t you feed you enough?” she teases.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff he gave me can’t even be counted as food,” you respond.

“Before we go home, I want to take you somewhere special,” she says as you leave the restaurant. “I visit it once a week.”

“Let’s do it.”

She drives you to a high school. But since it’s the weekend, the parking lot is empty except for a few cars. Natasha takes you inside. As you go down the hall with her, she grabs onto your hand.

“You don’t need both hands to roll?” you joke.

“I just like being close to you,” she says. Her wheelchair is at the perfect height that you don’t have to strain your shoulder lower to hold her hand. She directs you into a classroom, and when you step inside, you see some people already there.

They’re all in wheelchairs.

You suddenly feel angry at Natasha for bringing you here. Was she trying to make you feel even more guilty for what you had done to her? These people were all going through their own pain, and here you were having caused that exact same pain to your own lover.

“Hey, everyone,” Natasha says with a confidence in her voice you haven’t heard yet. “This is my partner I’ve told you all about, Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N!” they chorus. You cringe, wondering how much of yourself Natasha told them. Some of them are like her, paralyzed from the waist down, while others move their wheelchairs around by blowing into tubes or pressing a remote hanging from their necks.

You move out to the hallway and Natasha follows you.

“Why did you bring me here?” you whisper, your stomach churning. You feel like you’ve intruded on something private, something you don’t have the right to be a part of. “What were you thinking—”

“Please stay,” she begs. “They’re all my friends, and some of them bring their partners along, too. It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We tell stories and learn how to get through things together.

“My condition changed everything for me, but it’s also a change for you. I want to make sure you get the support you need. Because there’s not just two of us in this relationship anymore,” she continues, and you raise your eyebrow. “It’s me, you, and my condition.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m your burden or you’re my caregiver. I’m still the same as I always was. I can’t do everything myself and I might need your help. It’s just a different kind of help than before.”

You kneel and cup her face. “I love you, Nat. I’ll be here for you, whenever and whatever you need,” you promise.

She leans forward to kiss you. “I know.”

And with that kiss, you feel her forgiveness wash over you, cleansing you of the guilt and trauma of what you did. She had already forgiven you, a long time ago. You couldn’t continue to be so hard on yourself if you wanted the relationship to work.

You know it won’t be an easy journey, and it’s only the beginning, but with Natasha by your side again, you feel completely unstoppable.

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AN: I was definitely nervous writing this as I have little experience working with people with paralysis, so I did some research and hope I did it justice! If there’s anything out of place, please let me know. :)

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time…

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel imagine

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

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Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24 <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay).

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio.

And now you were facing the consequences.

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know.

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions.

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered.

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers.

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine?

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone.

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to.

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision.

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury.

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it.

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area.

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south.

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted.

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display.

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?"

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls.

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete."

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch.

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl"

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun."

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet.

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms.

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face.

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor.

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said.

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?"

__________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking.

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food)

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack.

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked.

"Yup."

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could.

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate.

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?"

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!"

Page dividers by @cicicantblog

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