Tumgik
#Decided to pick it back up on the whim of a bad mood and read like five volumes all at once lol
lyramundana · 9 months
Note
Just read yr thing Abt minsung w younger!reader and I love it but what if she fully takes advantage of baby privilege? Nibbling on jisungies cheeks when she's bored, teasingly rejecting Minhos affection because she feels like being a brat, wearing other members hoodies and "not realizing" it's not theirs etc
She'll totally use the baby status to her advantage, much to her boyfriends' agravation.
They find it cute at first, but when the act starts to be perjudicial for them, they become angry. Lucky for her, they look hot like that. Being the youngest of the throuple has its perks. Like, she's easily forgiven and usually spoiled.
Jisung's cheeks are her obssesion and she's always looking for excuses to touch them. Biting is another form of affection in her eyes, and also marking what's hers. She can be sitting on his lap, both of them in silence watching tv or anything else. Then she starts to look at him intensely. Out of nowhere, she lunges and bites his puffed cheeks, leaving her mouth there until he pushes her away playfully. She rubs the teeth marks with her tongue and chuckles wickedly, like a kid having fun. He glares at her, but can't be angry for too long because she's just so damn cute (had it been someone else he'll have thrown a fit or got into a fight)
Minho's affection is not something easily earned. It is a privilege, a gift he shows to few people. She knows this and feels proud to be one of those people he trusts so inmensely to be openly loving with, but sometimes she just wants to mess with him, as a payback for the times he's made her beg for his attention and playing hard to get. When he goes to kiss her, she turns her face so his lips land on her cheek. He stares at her in confusion, but she only replies that she got distracted with something else. If he slids his arm around her waist, she pretends to stretch out to push it off. When he says "i love you" and she doesn't say it right back, leaving in a mood for the remaining day.
They both grow sick of these antics eventually and have a talk about it, but it only takes a few kisses all over their faces and her soft voice saying "oppa" to give in every whim of hers.
However, they draw the line at the hoodies part. The only clothes she's allowed to use are hers or theirs. She's hanging in the dorm after spending the night with them, and decides to start the day being a sly devil, so she picks up a random hoodie she found and puts it on (maybe it's Hyunjin's) and walks around with it, no pants on. She goes for snacks, watches some tv and talks with one of the members that are awake too. When they come out to find her and see what she's wearing, the air between shifts as they calmly (scarily calmly) ask her what the fuck is she wearing. She pretends to be confused, saying she was a bit cold and grabbed some of their clothes. She didn't notice the mistake, but anyway, the hoodie is so warm and comfortable she refuses to take it off. But it goes to hell when she says with a giggle that she likes the smell, making a show by burying her face on it and close her eyes, knowing full well it smells like another man.
"Aw, darling. Why didn't you say so earlier? If you're cold, we can help with that"
The hoodie is thrown off to the trash and they return to the bedroom, locking themselves in there. Their baby is cold? They'll make sure to keep her warm and cozy all evening. And erase that disgusting smell off her later. The members are still home? Too bad. Hyunjin specially can stay and listen.
85 notes · View notes
ninasbookshelf · 2 months
Text
my 2023 dnf list
these are the books i started last year and decided not to finish. if i'm bored with a book or i feel that it's driving me into a slump, i'm pretty harsh about moving on. sometimes a book just isn't for me!
warning: there may be spoilers ahead, so read at your own risk.
malibu rising by taylor jenkins reid
"Malibu catches fire." from the first few pages of Malibu Rising, the reader knows that the party to which the whole book builds up is going to reach a fiery end. the reader also knows that the fire was started by one person. having read all of TJR's previous books set in this universe, i had a pretty good guess who that person would be. (i have since googled it and confirmed i was right, lol). so basically i went into this book knowing what was going to happen... and then just had to read through the anxious buildup to that final event. and i found i just didn't care about the things that happened in the hours leading up to the party. some of the riva family's backstory was interesting, but most of the present-day story points were predictable. the only character with whom i felt a connection was nina riva (justice for nina riva! that woman has dealt with too much). also i admit i was particularly struggling with anxiety at the time that i read Malibu Rising—so maybe that timing worked to the book's detriment—but i found the length of the buildup far too long and anxious to get through, especially when i already knew the ending. i know that anxiety was intentional, but it dragged on, and the story failed to keep me interested during that time. eventually i said to myself, "why am i putting myself through this?" it didn't feel worth continuing, so i stopped reading and googled to confirm my guess about the person who started the fire.
i want to die but i want to eat tteokbokki by baek sehee
i talked about this book already in my 2023 mid-year book freakout post, but basically i felt this book was oversimplified mental health advice, none of which was new to me. the writing was oversimplified too, in my opinion. it didn't pull me in at all. i was bored by it! I Want to Die But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki had been on so many lists that i really thought i would love it, but i hardly made it through 20 pages before giving up.
all about love: new visions by bell hooks
i've heard such great things about bell hooks' work. i picked up All About Love at the library on a whim back in september, and it... wasn't what i expected. i wasn't prepared for the religious/spiritual references, among other topics. i didn't quite have the energy that month to dive into the details so i ended up returning the book without getting very far into it. i guess i wasn't in the mood for it. as i mentioned briefly in my september wrap-up, i think eventually i'll return to All About Love and give it a fair shot when i actually feel i can dive into this type of writing.
a dream life by claire messud
i actually did finish this book, but i'm including it here because if it wasn't so short i would not have bothered to read the whole thing. i was unfamiliar with this novella and author prior to reading A Dream Life; i happened to come across the book at the library. the story fell flat for me. it's a sort of cautionary tale about acquiring what's supposed to be the dream lifestyle. but of course, the life to which everyone supposedly aspires has its own string of complications that are more of a headache than a blessing, etc. it's your typical story of money creating new problems, so the characters finally decide to go back to a life they're more comfortable with. i thought this story was boring! the writing wasn't bad, but the message is nothing new. the storyline was predictable and slow. it did nothing for me.
that's it for my 2023 DNF (did not finish) list. i like this short review format! i could do a whole separate review list for books that i did finish (especially those fairyloot reads). maybe i'll post these more often.
if you've read any of these books, i would love to hear your opinions!
1 note · View note
handelplayssims · 9 months
Text
And we’re back in the Stuart-Waddell household. Welp, I messed up the volunteering thing by leaving the lot and returning back but ah well. More opportunities down the line for empathy growth. Don’t like any of Roxana’s current whims at the moment so I’m going to have to go into the rewards thing and then pick up a want refresher potion. Let’s see, we got work for everyone in an hour expect Roxana. Annnd Roxana is feeling utterly flirty thanks to this lot having the Romantic Aura around it. And all of those romance socials I queued up because of said initial flirty moodlet. Let’s see, let’s do some cooking and baking first, since the kids only have so much food left for them. That being said, I’m making cookies. Both flirty heart and sugar ones. Real curious to see what moodlet the kids would get with those cookies.
Oooh, one of the people I thought about turning into a vampire dropped down for a social chat. Let’s just use our new ability to check his traits and...paranoid, slob, self-assured. You will make a fine vampire! Now to move into our home and- I knew I recognized him from somewhere! He has a cat! We need cat stuff stat! And what’s our new kitty’s traits? Territorial, affectionate and mischievous. What a kitty. Avery McHenry is this person’s name and his aspiration is to become a chief of mischief. That doesn’t require a job requirement soooo, let’s look at his skills. 7 mixology, 5 fitness, 3 fishing for tops. Hmm. With his paranoid trait, he’d absolutely be a bad mixologist. I don’t really think being an actor, an astronaut, an athlete would be up his ally either. So we got another cop, or military. Or a part-time fisherman! I honestly could go either or between military and cop. ...I’m thinking cop because military requires a lot of fitness and this dude has a handlebar moustache. It’s very cop vibes.
...annnnd Roxana decided to automatically flirt with him. GREAT. WONDERFUL. Let’s continue this uh, shall we? Flirts are a go! Oh boy oh boy oh boy. Kids are back from school as well. Time to manage needs! Emille wants pizza, which hey, good for her. Let’s order some. Selena wishes to be alone so I sent her to her room to read a book. Harrison is embarrassed from failing to prepare well for a test. Also low fun so let’s sort that out. Emille has her pizza and can now focus on her aspiration, aka play the violin some more! Now let’s see. Selena wishes to make more friends, both child and adult but hmm. Can’t leave the lot. Her sister’s playing the violin after all! And just as I was about to let Roxana and Omar have some steamy times, she gets utterly depressed by the fact her relationship with Avery withered and decayed. Likely, by being weird in proxmity to him. Alas and woe! Anyway, Selena befriended Avery before she went to bed. Her sister managed to get creativity up to 10! Now just needs to make some pictures. And Harrison has returned from work still embarassed.
With Roxana’s near eternal flirty mood, I actually set her to do what I was going to do ages ago. Write a romance novel. It’s totally vampiric propaganda. Omar wishes to mentor a child but also! Sounds like a good excuse to volunteer! Again! Night time volunteer time! A moment of peace and quiet for me, as I had all hands on deck managing all of the everyone in this house.
...got an alert about Yuki’s ghost about to pass on. Maaaaaan. I’m sad. Anyway, Omar’s goal is to still mentor a kid so he’ll still tutor Harrison in fitness. Huh. I checked NAPs and uh, we got free love. Welp. I guess Roxana can freely smooch whomever! Doesn’t matter whatsoever! But it’s time for-
Neighborhood Watch!
Luciano Guzman in the Guzman household is now a Chief Critic in the Arts Critic career.
0 notes
sysig · 3 years
Text
Rereading Death Notes has really put my Ace Attorney HF into context
#Lol#It was back before I knew the word for it but I definitely had a Death Note HF when I first read it#My art skills also weren't quite at the point where I could express it that way so I took different avenues which made it look different#Decided to pick it back up on the whim of a bad mood and read like five volumes all at once lol#It kept my attention quite well! It still holds up decently#Plus it's been forever since I've actually read a book I've held physically lol it's nice#It's almost embarrassing just how many little details I can see made formative marks on me ah#I'll always prefer the anime for Naomi's death tho it's just so chilling#Watching the life drain from her eyes while she's still alive ah#It's almost more silly how deeply I was in sadboi hours yesterday like#Even at the time I knew it was ridiculous but it didn't stop my brain from saying mean things and then getting sad about it pshhff#Doesn't help that I think I've fallen into a couple fallacies on accident - at least some Overjustification Effect#Although when doesn't that happen when a HF wears off lol half a dozen in one#And I know there's a name for it but I can't find it for the life of me of randomized operant conditioning ugh#Pretty sure I fell into that one too lol although I might've accidentally created a situation where it cuts both ways whoops#Didn't mean to do that but it happens to the best of us#I'd just like to get back to the point of wanting to show off what I've been up to since lately I've been feeling none of it#Pffftbtll annoying
4 notes · View notes
cheesygroove · 3 years
Text
Byulyisido~
Moonbyul faces a new challenge, if just you could be of help...
pairing: moonbyul x f!reader (second person)
c: this is just some pure overly descriptive fluff.
no content warnings
word count: 1.3k~
Tumblr media
Nah, sorry, I just wanna look at spreadsheets for the rest of the day, you said to the sun while aggressively closing the blinds of your home office, blocking the light that was peeking through the window and contributing to your daily dose of eye strain. If only I could close my laptop like that, huh. You dropped back into the chair nonchalantly, a korean R&B chill playlist blasting through your airpods. DEAN's calming voice was almost putting you to sleep when it suddenly stopped, being replaced by the default iPhone ringtone.
You rolled closer to your desk, angrily searching for the phone. You would always leave it the farthest away possible from you, trying to minimize distractions. Supposing it was a call from your boss, you were dreading it in anticipation — you had just finished what was an awful meeting with one of the regular clients. But the name you read on the screen after finding it had half of your bad mood melting away in a second.
"Oh, Byulyie. Just when I needed you," you picked up, grinning from ear to ear.
"Wow, missing me that much already? We talked yesterday, you clingy," she teased with a cocky tone that made you both blush and smile wryly, instantly regretting the words you spit out on a whim.
As Moon Byulyi slid into your life, you gradually learned to love her singular personality, cherishing the fun she brought you through your daily conversations — even if she still made you blush sometimes. After a few dates, a mutual romantic interest began to flourish, and you slowly got to know her other side — the Moonbyul from MAMAMOO. The idea of having something more serious with a famous person freaked you out, but while talks of that weren't around, you enjoyed the drama of her much more glamorous life. Despite feeling you hadn't much to bring to the table in comparison to her, she was still very interested in hearing how your day had gone.
Her initial teasing being long forgotten, Byulyi was the one who went on a torrent of words, seemingly frustrated about her work. You closed your laptop, thinking that today's assignment could be delayed. The reason for her discontentment was her Youtube channel — to the delight of her fans, Moonbyul finally opened an account on the platform — months had gone by without a single video uploaded. The empty page had its own visual identity and even an intro posted to MAMAMOO's official accounts, but nothing ever came out of it.
"It was a bit silly of me to ask the company to announce it, right?" She sighed on the other side of the line, the sound of her fingers typing in a mechanical keyboard almost concealing it. "Now everyone has been expecting it, and creating content isn't really simple. Plus, the added pressure..."
Not knowing what to say, your mind wandered trying to pick words that would make her feel better, only to end up stating the obvious, "Well, hindsight is always 20/20." Moonbyul — the idol — had on her shoulders the weight from aiming to constantly deliver something unique, exciting and new — and those three words, in her opinion, clashed with the homebody lifestyle Byulyi led. There was a real struggle to get any innovative content out of her daily routine.
"But I've decided," she breathed in to start off the sentence, the sudden determination within the act causing you to raise your eyebrows, "I'm changing that. I think the channel can start off with a more lighthearted video, and maybe I will be stealing an idea from Solarsido... For the Byuldongies." Byulyi laughed dryly, her confession instantly putting you in a straighten posture — acting like it would help listen better — and she grunted as if she had read your mind, "Ah! I know what I said, but what can I do? I have to upload something, but I don't have any ideas!"
You chuckled as you heard Byulyi muttering to herself that Yongsun would endlessly tease her about it. That was what you suggested her a thousand times — why don't you do one of the challenges (시도) that Solar has done? — and until now, she had always rejected it promptly, stating that she wanted to do her own thing and avoid being a copycat of her friend. At this moment she was prioritizing the fans' wishes rather than her own, and despite feeling sorry for her, you couldn't help but find the reaction amusing.
"Hey, come on. It will be fun, Byulyie," you said in an attempt to cheer her up, "you have to start somewhere. As it progresses, you will eventually discover a type of content that works for you." After finishing the sentence, you let out a inquiring hum, only going forth with your thoughts following Byulyi reluctant mumble in agreement, "Oh, you see? Pick a video that you enjoyed to try to record. I can help you choose it," you offered.
"I have one in mind already." The keyboard sound was loud again, so you could tell she was typing fast on it. "Oh, it's that one... Have you seen it? She cooked a meal with the ingredients she had at home and ate it with me. It was delicious." You told Byulyi that you knew the video she was talking about. "But mine will have a twist to it, of course. I won't be accused of straightforward plagiarism, no no. I'm writing the script now, by the way." So that's what she has been working on all along.
"You will let me in on a few spoilers, right?" you pouted your lips as you said it, knowing she would notice it in your voice and give in right away.
"I can't keep anything from you, can I?" Byulyi giggled, then murmured okay okay, " 'kay... So, a picnic at a local park and the food will be whatever I have at home!", she announced, making it sound grandiose by clapping after it, and you couldn't help but join in her adorable goofiness. "I don't expect it to taste good like Yong's version did, but we —"we? "— should have some fun."
"We?" you asked.
"Mm-hmm, you're joining in. I managed to get a day off next tuesday, like you usually do." Hearing her answer, you didn't even try to hold your smile back. "It was supposed to be a surprise, just so you know."
That smile on your face didn't last long, though. You stopped your happiness in its tracks, still wanting to help even if it meant putting what you wanted aside.
"It's not like I don't wanna go, oh, huh, but don't you think Solar would be best suited to the task? I mean, she has her way with the camera, experience and you recorded stuff together so many times..." you managed to say, feeling your heart ache with each word. Despite the good intent, part of you — most of you — was anxiously hoping for Byulyi to disagree with your opinion. Thankfully, she didn't wait any longer after you finished to speak her mind.
"You don't need to be like that," she told you with a reassuring tone, "I've even planned everything so that it could fit you. You-" she sighed almost inaudibly, cutting off the sentence like that. You heard her fingers tapping on the keyboard, but it didn't sound like she was actually typing. By the time Byulyi spoke again, your palms had already gotten a little sweaty.
"Well, it's an important occasion to me and I've chosen you to be there. If anything, you should say that you're honored, 'kay?" her voice came back full of confidence — almost as if she hadn't made a noticeable pause — even leaving a greasy remark to make you blush slightly.
Your answer to that was a bashful 'kay in the same tone as hers, and even though you couldn't see Byulyi, your mind instantly pictured she smiling widely after hearing it, with her cute nose scrunch and everything.
ao3 link
author notes section: hi, this is my first time posting here so I was a bit unsure about what to write — I still got carried away and wrote over 1k words so that's that. I will attempt to venture into other genres as I get more comfortable/confident, for now I hope that you can enjoy this piece about some subtle flirting... maybe there will be a part 2.
63 notes · View notes
Text
Birthday Title Screen
Saeran’s title screen underneath the cut alongside my thoughts and feelings on the matter. Under the cut simply because if you don’t want to see it, you can go and wait until it’s officially released by Cheritz in your time zone. Anyways, we know why we’re here.
It’s that time again and boy, aren’t we happy to be able to talk about it? Now, this title was advertised as Unknown so I expected Unknown. I didn’t expect my boy Suit Saeran to be on the title. The game tends to imply that Unknown is the just Suit Saeran, and vice versa, but I don’t agree with that notion but I’ve explained that one many times before but the game never confirms outright one way or the other so, you know how that goes. 
I’ll spare you that, I’ve got plenty of posts talking about that opinion for you to find if you want, lol. 
Either way, this is the first time that Suit Saeran’s gotten the pointed limelight like this. He’s usually meant to surprise the player because they may not see him in their minds as their trying to uncover the mystery and everything. But, we’ve got to say, Cheritz has thrown all spoiler fears out of the window. I mean, they just plastered Seven’s true name on a boat. 
I laughed about that but I digress, you’re here for the photo and you want to see me shriek like a banshee.
Tumblr media
So, yeah, let’s just our obligatory scream out of the way presently. When I saw this one, I could think was: Oh my God, it’s BE2. The only reason my brain just decided BE2 was because of the framing of all the presents. In that ending, he gives you gifts, he gives you food, but “you’re not good enough to open them or touch them, toy.” He’ll give you all kinds of things but you know, you get what he wants when he decides. 
And crumbs, if you’re lucky on a good day, you know? 
That being said, it doesn’t have to be framed as BE2, but the presents and gifts just lead me to believe that this is the theme or the idea that it’s taking from to show the audience because what else am I going to be thinking when you’ve gone and thrust that idea into my face like that? Mmm, and I’ve been talking about that ending a lot lately. 
Here’s that post if you want to read more about BE2. It’s a tragic ending that is bad for both Saeran and MC. He’s trying to get you back like Humpty Dumpty but he can’t put you back together again. He realized too little, too late, that he liked you the way that Ray did, that he genuinely liked you for you. He can’t say that aloud, so he... tries cruel ways to bring you back, but it will never work and he’s doomed to despair. 
No hope for Suit Saeran if the kindness heart can be destroyed in hell. It means it’s only natural that he lose everything. 
I appreciate that he’s sticking to his goth theme, though, that party hat is just red and black.
Suit Saeran’s very... minimalist in the sense that he just picks things that are truly intense and sharp. That’s why he wears a suit. That’s because it’s the thing that he knows that can radiate power. Business men are supposed to be strong and forthcoming with their ability, that’s why he leans that way. 
His father is like that, the idea of what power and monster is feeds into how he chooses to dress himself. 
That’s why he just says, “Suit time.” If anyone was curious about that, anyway, I never seen people talk about that. Ray was given his clothes by Rika, he never got a say in how he dressed. The boys always pick something dark because it’s going to match their mood... their mood is how they pick colors and clothes if given the ability. 
That’s why GE Saeran is bright and cottagecore. It reflects the positive shift in his thoughts and perspective on the world. But, with Suit Saeran, he’s trying to emulate what he’s scared of and what he thinks that power is and this is the only way he knows how and it hurts to think about when you frame it that way, I do know that. 
Tumblr media
Is that meant to be a stamp and playbook? Did Suit Saeran really make a whole illustrated guide for his puppet show? Is he really making acts and stories for all of this? He had to make those puppets himself. We know that Saeran is creative and can make anything, but those things are clearly handmade, hand-painted, I have a strong feeling that he made those clothes himself, too... 
You know, I like to imagine him drawing his emojis before he comes to you because he wants to make a good impression, but he’s a very specific artist and he gets angry when he can’t get things right, so I’m really thinking about him being out here in his workroom, painting fine details with a determined look in his eyes like—
“This’ll show that toy. This’ll show them how powerful I am.” 
Suit Saeran, honey, this is a gift within itself, you are a dork and I love you so much, oh my God.
TLDR; Suit Saeran makes puppets and makes their own playbook like this is going to a musical or the opera. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He actually brought you the exact outfit. This means that he either made you that outfit, or he got himself, and then he made a smaller version. 
I like to think he’s crafty with sewing so I pretend he does things like this, but honestly, if you’ve made it this far, are you also thinking about the fact that he made a doll versions of the both of you to show you something? 
Because I can’t stop thinking about that. He really said, “Look at this, I made us, toy!” Like, I wrote a whole imagine once where MC and GE Saeran made each other plush dolls of the other person to sleep with. He just went out here and made puppets simply because he wanted to put on a show. He made y’all and I’m gonna cry what a fucking dork.
This is canon.
My God, I’m canon. 
Once again, I’m out here living my best life and nobody’s going to stop me on that front. Saeran wants to impress you and astound you so badly that he does not even realize that the handmade things that he’s making actually would be something that flatter someone. 
Like, he could use those to patronize me and berate me for control, but—
I’d really be sitting there compliment his fine eye and craftsmanship. It’s just that great. 
“Wow, Saeran. You did this all by yourself? These details are so realistic and finely tuned. This must have taken you hours... no, days, it must have taken you days to paint everything and stitch all of this together, even the little fine details are perfect. You’re amazing! When did you have the time to learn all of this?” 
He would scoff, “Of course, I am, you blubbering toy! Don’t suck up to me and think that you’re going to be treated nicely. I won’t tell you anything about me. You don’t deserve that. I didn’t do this to impress you, I did this to show you what I want from you. Now, be a good little toy, sit there, and do as I ask. I won’t repeat myself.” 
Tumblr media
I find it interesting that he framed himself in the Savior’s seat here. Is that just a tie back to BE3, or is it simply his power play? I think it’s a comment on the fact that he struggles to know how much power that he truly has in his hands. That is to say, he says he’s the strongest, but the reality is, Rika is stronger then him and he bows his head to her. 
Even in his fantasy, she holds all of the cards and he has no choice but to bend.
But, with MC, he is trying to use them to control his idea of power... because it’s a fragile thing. It could break at any second. He screams and shouts all that he wants but he knows, deep down, he may be strong, but he’s not the strongest in this place. How could he be? That’s why Rika even says to you during those late hours—
“Mmm, you noticed? He’s using you to stabilize himself because otherwise, he would crumble. Thanks for your sacrifice to helping me win my goals. It wasn’t a pleasure knowing someone as bright as you, getting in my way and trying to turn them against me.” 
He only feels strong when something placates the idea in his chest. It hurts, even in his numb and confused heart, he’s hurting and he can’t figure out a way to get out of the dark labyrinth. Did he make the Mint Eye playhouse? Did he? I am saying he did. None of you are going to stop me. Saeran is a creative artist and I will not be contained any longer.
Cheritz confirmed. 
You’re a doll on a string in this for him. He wants to say that he bends and controls you to his whims, but... he’s also there. This isn’t just you being a toy, it’s Saeran realizing that he’s a toy, too. Why else would he make a doll of his person, then? This is about him not entirely getting it, though. He would make himself but not realize what he’s implying to know deep down, underneath all of his yelling.
When I saw him in the chair, I thought... this is him in relation to being the marionette king. That’s why they’re doing this, oh my God. It makes sense to frame the MC as a puppet or toy, they’re always “his eyes” and “his toy” and more and more and more. But, he’s also being played for a toy by Rika to get what she wants.
Who is really the puppet here?
Who is really on the strings? 
Tumblr media
Look at that cocky bastard. Look at him. Look at him forever and deal with me screaming about him, oh my God. In conclusion, I’m having a lot of feelings at the moment presently and I think I’m going to go and lay back down because I am going to need a minute to unpack everything that I’m feeling and dealing with because Suit Saeran.
SUIT SAERAN!
92 notes · View notes
anxious2dsimp · 3 years
Text
Everything He's Not | Iwaizumi x GN! Reader | Short Fic
Tumblr media
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾。・:*:・゚★。*✧・゚:˚۰˚☽˚。・:
Flavour: Angst (Reader x Cheater!Oikawa) to Fluff (Reader x Iwaizumi)💔→☁️
Reader: Gender Neutral!
Format: Short Fic (alternating between two sides of the story, y/n and Iwa's)
Part: 1 out of 2 (read part 2 here)
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Y/N, has dated the very popular Oikawa Toru for a while, through him becoming friends with his group. However, little do they know about a certain stoic ace's feelings for his best friend's s/o. When Oikawa screws up big time, will Iwaizumi's true feelings finally show? And what will Y/N do when everything goes down?
Warnings: Cheating, cursing, breakups, basically Oikawa x Reader angst turned into Iwaizumi x Reader fluff.
A/N: I wrote this for myself a while back but I edited it into a gender-neutral reader insert on a sleep-deprived whim (sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Ik it's very random, but hopefully someone likes it :)
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾。・:*:・゚★。*✧・゚:˚۰˚☽˚。・:
Your POV
Dating Oikawa Toru was definitely different from what you expected; at first you were weary about the volleyball star, but after giving him a chance you started to see the real him. Yes, he was the captain of a powerhouse’s Volleyball team and had a ton of fangirls, but really he was just a regular guy with dorky interests and an alien obsession, which was the side of him you fell for. It wasn’t all great, dealing with his fangirls was rough; luckily you were safe being from another school, but they’d take any chance they had to try and gain Oikawa’s interest, flirting with him as he did the same back, not with bad intentions, it was just his personality. It did slightly annoy you, but you knew he was clear that we were together and wouldn’t take things further, he was just keeping up his image, and he promised you that was all.
Since your Karasuno friends didn’t particularly like your relationship with the setter (though they did respect it), you two hung out with his Aoba Johsai friends; that’s how your friendship with Iwa, Makki, and Mattsun started. You all became good friends, so they all helped you keep Oikawa in line while at school (especially Iwaizumi). Since you got along so well your friendship became its own thing besides Oikawa, and before you realized it, you and Iwa were such good friends that you chatted almost daily on the phone.
You don’t know what exactly made you bond so much, maybe you were similar in the sense that you were both used to being lowkey, keeping things together behind the scenes; regardless, you both enjoyed each other’s company. That Tuesday afternoon was one of those days, Oikawa had something to do at school, so Iwaizumi invited you, Makki, and Mattsun over to his place to wait for the captain like you usually did since it was the closest to the school.
So, you just chilled like always, laughing and playing video games, talking about whatever came to mind. While you were in the middle of a Mario Kart match, you heard the front door of the apartment open, “(y/n)-chan! I’m sorry for the delay~” the brunette said in a sing-song voice.
“Hi to you too, Oikawa,” said Makki, poking fun at him, to which he just rolled his eyes and walked over to the couch. “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss?” Oikawa asked standing in front of the screen, causing all four of you to start yelling at him to get out of the way, making him pout. “One sec, Toru-chan,” you said, biting your lip while focusing on keeping your first place intact for the last lap. The setter just giggled and got out of the way, walking around the sofa to stand behind you.
Iwaizumi’s POV
‘Eyes on the screen Iwaizumi,’ the ace told himself as he tried to focus on the game, attempting to ignore the way Oikawa kissed (y/n)’s neck while they played, trying to get their attention but failing miserably other than a giggle here and there. Iwa could tell by the way their (e/c) colored eyes pierced the screen that they wanted to win. The boy could see why his best friend liked them, unlike most people (y/n) actually treated Oikawa like a normal person, which definitely got him going. It wasn’t just that though, you all became such good friends because they’re smart, funny and beyond kind; but that’s all you were, friends. So why did it make him moody to see them be all couple-y?
After all, they were together while he was just the friend, the one who kept the fangirls off Oikawa so (y/n) didn’t have to worry because he couldn’t do it himself. Even though Toru was Iwaizumi’s best friend since they were kids, he couldn’t help but think that his friend wasn’t the greatest boyfriend. However, that was the same reason why he couldn’t say anything either, after all, they made him happy and vice versa, so he just kept telling himself to keep his damn eyes on the screen.
Luckily for him, the game was soon over so you all ordered takeout and sat around talking. “Yo, (y/n), there’s this new scary movie on Netflix, we should watch it this Friday night,” Mattsun stated, stealing one of Maki’s fries and throwing it in his mouth. “That sounds fun, but I can’t Friday! Karasuno has a friendly match against a few Tokyo schools this weekend so we leave Thursday after school,” (y/n) explained with a sweet smile, Iwaizumi’s eyes casually wondering over to Oikawa to see him looking upset.
‘Ugh, here goes,’ the spiker thought to himself. Lately, Toru had been restless and uncomfortable because according to him, his s/o was slipping away from him. Oikawa had somehow managed to convince himself that Karasuno had made it their mission to get their manager (y/n) to stop liking him and had been getting increasingly dramatic and jealous lately for no reason.
“But I thought we were going to hang out this weekend,” Oikawa whined as he pouted at his significant other, trying to seem jokingly disappointed though his best friend could tell he actually was upset. “Babe, we literally talk every day and we hung out all this past weekend, and today,” (y/n) said taking his hand.
“Plus, you have friends too, Shittykawa,” Hajime said, trying to get his friend’s mind out of that dark place since he knew he was more prone to make stupid comments when it was there. Oikawa didn’t drop it, insisting on how they were talking less as (y/n) continued to explain that school had been busy and how he also had responsibilities that took up his time. They eventually got him to shut up, but Iwaizumi couldn’t shake the concern that he was being too stupid, and it felt like he was getting closer and closer to making a mistake.
Your POV
You had to admit you did feel guilty when you told Toru you were leaving for the weekend, it was true that you had been way too busy with school and that neither of you had much free time, but you knew that your feelings for him were still strong. So, that Thursday after school you were happy and excited to hear that the trip had been postponed and you’d actually travel on Saturday morning because Sensei had a very important meeting on Friday afternoon. With the change of plans, you decided to go surprise your boyfriend, and it already being late in the afternoon, by the time you got to his place he would be home.
As you got off the bus by his place and got closer to his house, the sun beginning to set, a couple by a small park caught your eye, causing a soft smile to appear on your face. That park was always where you two would hang out when you wanted to be just the two of you. Walking closer, however, the smile quickly disappeared as you realized the “couple” was none other than Oikawa himself with one of his persistent fans he told you not to worry about. ‘Maybe they’re just hanging out as friends,’ or at least that’s what you told yourself as you squinted and kept walking.
Picking up your pace you got closer, now being able to see their faces more clearly in the dimly lit park only to watch them kiss, the girl’s arms around his neck while Oikawa’s hand slid up her thigh. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there in shock as silent tears began to fall down your face. Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached into your pocket and took out your phone, dialing his number as you saw the brunette react.
He looked down surprised at his phone screen as he scooted apart from the girl and picked up the call as if it was nothing. “Hey beaut-” he started to say before you cut him off, not having the strength to hear his happy tone. “How could you?!” you sobbed angrily into the phone as his face became anxious. “What’s wrong babe?” How could he try to play it off as if he had no idea?
“You lying, cheating, son of a bitch! We’re over,” you yelled angrily, hanging up right as his eyes met yours. You were close enough to see the horrified and heartbroken expression on his face, but before he could say anything you turned around and just ran. Grabbing the straps of your backpack you sprinted back down the streets, your vision blurry with tears as your (h/c) hair was pushed back by the wind. It was only when you were back at the bus station and were sure that Oikawa was nowhere to be seen that you stopped and realized; you didn’t know where to go next.
You could go to your Karasuno friends, but you weren’t in the mood to hear “I told you so” and couldn’t go home to not worry your family. As you sat there and looked at the screen blankly, tears continuing to fill your eyes, a notification appeared. ‘Hey loser, how’s the trip going?’ you read as your eyes looked at Iwa’s name by the message. He was your best shot, you were close and he wouldn’t judge, so without opening your phone again and ignoring all of Oikawa’s calls you jogged over to Iwaizumi’s place.
After ringing the apartment and hiding your teary and now out of breath voice in the intercom, Iwa’s mom buzzed you in, and once you got to his floor you were greeted by Iwaizumi looking concerned, more so once he saw the state you were in. “(y/n), are you ok?” Iwaizumi asked as he walked over to you, hugging you as you hid in his arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. It’s Oikawa,” you explained as he nodded and got you inside. He made some tea and brought it with you two to his room, both of you sitting on his bed. “Ok, what did Shittykawa do now?” he asked as he looked up at you and handed over a warm mug. “D- did you know h-he was cheating on me?” you managed to stutter out between sobs, trying to sound collected but being embarrassed by your inability to do so.
“He- wHAT?!” His reaction startled you, and when you looked up from the cup and saw his horrified, furious expression it made you feel less like you were overreacting. “I- the trip got postponed to Saturday morning, so I went to surprise him to his place and saw him in our bench making out with one of his fangirls,” you explained, watching as Iwa’s face became angrier and angrier, realizing how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, “I’m sorry I came to you, I know you’re best friends.”
Iwaizumi’s POV
Seeing them like this was already painful, but learning what Oikawa did was too much, Iwaizumi couldn’t believe how his friend could do this to (y/n). The spiker had never cared when he did stuff like this or worse than this to his fangirls. After all, he thought, they were the ones stupid enough to be blinded by his charm, but he never fathomed Oikawa would be able to do something like that to someone as great as you. “What? Hey, don’t even dare apologize,” he stated firmly as he took both mugs and set them by the bedside table, hugging (y/n) tightly and feeling them snuggle into him as they cried. Seeing them like this killed him. ‘Fuck Oikawa,’ he thought to himself, ‘if before I had stayed out of the way because they were good for each other that’s no longer the case.’
“I’m so sorry he did this to you; I should have stopped him. If I had known I would have, I should have been paying more attention,” the ace rambled into (y/n)’s hair as they cried softly, getting angry at himself before being interrupted by them pushing themselves away from him gently to look up at his face. “Why are you apologizing as if this was your fault? Iwa, he’s the one who’s an asshole, not you,” they stated, wiping a tear from their face.
“Because,” was he really going to say this? Screw it, here goes nothing, he told himself before continuing, “I knew you deserved better than him, but I convinced myself he would be different with you because I saw how good you were to him, and how happy you looked.” (y/n) just looked at him, mouth slightly ajar as they seemed to process what the boy had said. He couldn’t take the silence anymore so to avoid the blush he felt was beginning to appear on his cheeks he asked; “so did you dump him?” They nodded, looking down at their cup of tea as they chuckled and replied; “on the spot, over the phone.”
Iwaizumi chuckled back, releasing some of the nerves; “serves him right.” They smiled weakly at his comment and absentmindedly ran their fingers through their hair, My god were they gorgeous, Hajime thought to himself, only then realizing it was the first time it was just the two of them in his room, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Calm down, he told himself while taking a deep breath, looking over at (y/n). 'They just broke up with their boyfriend, being here with you is their last concern,' or so he thought. “Do you… want to watch (favorite movie) and eat ice cream?” the spiker suggested after thinking for a moment, he knew that was their favorite movie, and ice cream helps get over jerks, right?
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾。・:*:・゚★。*✧・゚:˚۰˚☽˚。・:
125 notes · View notes
jaskierswolf · 3 years
Text
Fuck Indeed - 1 of 4
Rating: E
Chapter WC: 2720
Summary: Jaskier scrolled through the terms and conditions of the website he was planning on selling his soul to. It seemed simple enough, and he really needed the money. His music career hadn’t exactly gotten off to a flying start and he was tired of sponging off his friends and they were, quite frankly, tired of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be allowed to sofa surf and he really needed his own space.
So, he was starting an OnlyFans account. - On AO3
CW (for whole story): 18+ only, anal sex, masturbation, exhibition kink, sex work, rimming, sex toys, talks of blow jobs, Geralt bottoms but it’s mentioned they switch, biting (but no blood), Jaskier wearing lingerie and makeup.
Jaskier scrolled through the terms and conditions of the website he was planning on selling his soul to. It seemed simple enough, and he really needed the money. His music career hadn’t exactly gotten off to a flying start and he was tired of sponging off his friends and they were, quite frankly, tired of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be allowed to sofa surf and he really needed his own space. 
So, he was starting an OnlyFans account. 
The only thing he was good at outside of his music and poetry was sex. So why not make some money off of it. He’d already done a shit ton of research on stats, marketing, and the types of audiences he was looking to attract… and yes that potentially meant that he’d spent more money than he could afford on subscriptions to porn but, well, it was an investment. 
He was going to be good at this, nay, he was going to be fucking brilliant; pun intended. 
He smirked as he clicked to register his account. 
Phase one complete. 
Phase two… commencing. 
He quickly adjusted his photograph to the incredibly alluring photo he’d picked out. Essi had helped him stage a photoshoot after he’d promised to only film his videos when he was staying with Priscilla or Valdo. The photo showed him sitting backwards on a chair, stockings pulled up to his thighs and attached by turquoise lace garters. He was wearing a gorgeous matching lingerie set that was barely visible from behind the chair, a tease for the sort of content he would be putting out. He was also wearing a pair of killer heels. 
Heels he absolutely couldn’t walk in yet, but they’d been so pretty and he’d always wanted to learn so he’d bought them on a whim, again more money that he didn’t have…. thank fuck for credit cards. 
He wasn’t looking at the camera, his fringe covering his eyes, but he was clearly laughing at something, blood red lipstick staining his lips. 
He was rather impressed with how it had turned out. 
Now he just needed to get up some content. He glanced at the clock, he had probably missed the best time to post a video today, but he had a few photos from his shoot with Essi. He flicked through his camera roll until he found his second favourite, one where he was looking up just past the camera, eyes catching the light perfectly so they shone a sparkling bright blue. 
Not to be narcissistic, but he looked fucking gorgeous. 
He grinned and typed out a teasing caption to introduce himself, then hit post. Afterwards, he locked his phone and threw it across the room, not wanting to think about the comments and reactions. 
He stared at it as it bounced on the mattress. 
The only sounds were his breath and his heartbeat in his ears. 
“Bollocks,” he muttered after what felt like a lifetime, and scrambled after his phone, unlocking it quickly with a few nimble taps of his finger. 
If he spent the next two hours refreshing his page to see what people thought then… well, no one needed to know. It wasn’t an instant hit, but he was new and it was expected, and he was thrilled at the couple of messages he received and he already had a couple of subscribers. 
He could do this, the fluttering anxiety in his stomach beginning to settle slightly as he repeated the words aloud a few times. He sighed heavily and decided to be productive. He still needed to set up his Twitter page and link it, perhaps an Instagram account as well, one that his parents didn’t have to know about, and fuck he needed to sleep. 
His clock, glowing in the now dark of his room, was telling him more time had passed than he’d realised. 
“Fuck,” he groaned. 
He still needed to get to the studio early this morning. He’d practically begged the owner to let him record a demo, promising that it would be worth it, that he was good.  Luckily for him, there had been a short break very early in the morning before any decent musician worth a damn was awake. He plugged his phone in to charge and made sure he put it down out of reach from the bed. He’d just wake up in the middle of the night and check it otherwise. He just needed to know he wasn’t terrible, was that really so bad?
“Come on, Jask,” he mumbled “you can check after you record your demo. It’s not that long.”
It felt like fucking forever. 
Geralt was busy working at the garage when Yennefer messaged him. He huffed and pocketed his phone, giving his customer an apologetic hum before gesturing for them to continue. Yennefer hadn’t started the text with “Ciri!” so he could ignore it for now, that was their deal. He’d only check his texts from Yennefer at work if there was a problem with their daughter, but that never stopped her from trying. Yennefer got bored easily at work. Her mind was too brilliant and even working in a top law firm wasn’t enough to keep her mind from wondering, the monotony of paperwork getting the better of her. 
It didn’t help that she had assistants to take care of the worst shit for her. Geralt wasn’t exactly sure what Yennefer did all day. He was pretty sure she just organised her minions and planned to take over the world, in between bothering him at work, of course. 
He shook his head with a fond smile, as he watched the young blonde leave her precious Volkswagen Beetle behind. It was an old banged up thing, and she’d clearly bought it for the looks rather than practicality, and the engine had given out after only a month of her buying it. 
“Kids,” he scoffed. 
Business was business though, it brought in sorely needed cash.
Not as much as his other job… but that was a more lucrative role, one that only Yennefer knew about. He was careful to keep his face hidden, but so far he’d been lucky. No one else in his physical life knew about his OnlyFans account, probably because he was still just starting out. He’d only been at it a couple of months and he was, admittedly, not the best at having an online presence, which was why he’d begrudgingly asked Yennefer for her help. 
- New kid on the block, he’s just your type.
Yennefer’s message read, blunt as ever. He rolled his eyes and clicked the link. Sure enough there was a photograph of a young brunet straddling a chair, wearing fucking lingerie. He swallowed, staring at the photograph just a little too long. 
He growled and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He should have known better than to open the link at work. 
But that smile haunted him for the rest of the day, making every second drag, the world turning to a haze and every movement felt like he was wading through mud. He wanted to get home. 
He wanted to know more about this Dandelion. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his fingers to his forehead, hoping it would push the thoughts of the man from his mind. 
It didn’t. 
By the time he got back to his house he felt like he was on fire, his skin crawling, restless, burning. He showered as quickly as he could, just about managing to wash all the conditioner from his hair before stalking back to his room and firing up his laptop. He groaned as he finally had a chance to stalk Dandelion’s page. 
The second photograph was even better than the first, bright blue eyes searing into his mind, and the smile of a fucking angel. He looked young, mid-twenties, only a few years younger than Geralt probably, and he was exactly the sort of man he would do well on this goddamn site. He looked charismatic, easy on the eye, definitely flirty judging by the cheeky grin on his face, and he was probably excellent at the marketing side of things. 
Geralt glanced at his subscribers and cursed. Dandelion hadn’t even uploaded a video yet but his follower count was crawling up faster than Geralt’s ever had. 
And that made him… angry?
Jealous perhaps, but there was a bitterness growing in his heart now. 
He had to do better. He couldn’t allow this man to overtake him. He just couldn’t. 
He growled and shut his laptop with a snap, pulling out his phone with more force than necessary. Yennefer would know what to do. She was good at this sort of thing. He just hoped that he didn’t need to explain himself. It was pathetic and irrational but… he wanted to win. 
Jaskier stumbled upon the White Wolf’s page purely by accident. He’d been looking for inspiration before filming his first video. He knew what he wanted to film but he was tired and wasn’t really sure he was in the mood for it, so he began to scroll. He’d unsubscribed from a lot of accounts to save money but the silver-haired Adonis had caught his attention. 
The leather strapped around his otherwise bare torso helped. Jaskier was weak for a man in leather. 
Before he knew what he was doing, Jaskier was putting in his details to subscribe, sending off a silent apology to his bank account.
The White Wolf was the silent brooding type, never quite revealing his face, but that wasn’t uncommon. His long hair fell down past the man’s pecs, curling at the ends just above the black leather straps. Chest hairs trailed down the man’s torso, the photo cropped before revealing anything else. Jaskier let out a low whimper at the thought of what might be revealed. 
He groaned and scrambled for his bottle of lube before letting out a curse. 
He had a video to shoot. 
He didn’t have time to jerk off to this god’s account. He grumbled and got changed into the turquoise lingerie from the photoshoot. He had decided to use the photos as a teaser for his first video, creating some continuity and helping to create a brand that he could build on. He hummed happily as he pulled up the stockings, they felt soft against his skin, bringing a fragility to his otherwise muscular frame. 
Not quite as muscular as Wolf’s. 
What wouldn’t he give to lick the lines of those abs?
Once he was dressed, he pulled out his makeup bag. He wasn’t quite as skilled with eyeliner as Essi yet so he settle for a smudged black look before adding the red to his lips. He gave himself a once over in the mirror, flashing a smile. It wasn’t perfect but it was only his first video. He’d get more practice as he worked. After one final check of the lighting in his room – well, his temporary room thanks to darling Priscilla – he made sure he had lube nearby. With shaking hands, he set up the camera and clicked record. He would edit both the start and the end of the video later. 
He sighed and then let a seductive smile grace his lips as he winked at the camera, kneeling on the bed.
“Hello darling,” he purred in a low voice “I am so happy you could join me.”
He pictured the chiseled torso of his Wolf, mind filling in the blanks of his face, square jaw, soft warm brown eyes, perhaps stubble on his cheek. He felt the warmth of arousal pool in his core at that thought, his cock filling out in the lacy underwear. Definitely stubble then. He wanted to feel the scratch against his cheek, his neck… his arse. 
His fingers had drifted down his chest and were toying with the hem of his panties without him even realising it. His eyes fluttered open as he remembered his audience. 
“Oops,” he breathed “forgot where I was for a moment there, sweetheart. You don’t mind, do you?”
He paused. 
It felt right. 
God, he had no idea that he was doing, but the idea of people on the other end of that camera, watching him. Fuck, he hadn’t known he’d be into that. He palmed himself through the thin fabric, letting out a slightly exaggerated moan so the camera would pick it up. 
He wondered if Wolf would see this, would he get hard watching Jaskier touching himself… would he touch his own cock? 
Jaskier’s breath hitched and he bit his lip. He locked eyes with the camera as he let out a sigh. “I’ve just been feeling so lonely, it won’t take much tonight, just the thought of you.”
The words felt awkward, stunted but it was only his first video and blood was flowing away from his brain right now, making improv difficult. He’d need a script for next time. 
“It’s my first video so I wanted to get dressed up, do you like it?” a pause “It feels so soft against my skin.”
His other hand reached up to stroke his nipples through the lace. He tilted his head back and rolled his hips forward to his cock brushed against his own hand, another moan escaping his lips, playing it up for the camera. “Shall I keep them on?” he asked the camera, voice huskier than he was expecting. Fuck this was affecting him more than he imagined. 
He swallowed, and licked his lips, fingers pulling down his panties to reveal the tip of his cock already leaking onto the brightly coloured lace. “I might ruin them… but I think you’d like that…”
Would Wolf like that… watching Jaskier cum all over the pretty panties. 
Jaskier whined, smearing the precum over his hand and then down the length of his cock under the lace. The touch sent waves of pleasure through his whole body, and he let out a low curse. His eyes fell shut as he slowly stroked himself, taking his time, teasing himself. He pictured his Wolf pulling the straps of his bra down off his shoulders, pressing kisses into his neck, biting on his shoulders as he touched him. God he really needed to watch his videos, if he could pull such vivid images of the man from just one photograph. 
“Fuck, that feels so good…” he gasped, struggling to keep his movements slow. He forced his eyes open to look at the camera. He could only imagine how he looked right now, eyes dark, cheeks flushed, lips red from where he’d been biting them, one hand working on his cock, the other pinching at his nipples through sinfully see-through fabric. 
“I want you to touch me so bad,” he gasped “would you fuck me, if I ask?” 
He swallowed, imagining Wolf’s hands on his hips, pressing bruises into his skin… spreading his cheeks apart… fingers dripping with lube, ready to stretch him. He bit his lip again, almost hard enough to draw blood. He hadn’t noticed he was fucking into his own hand, thighs burning as he knelt on the fresh silk sheets. He was close, too close… not what he’d meant for this video but it was too late now… he couldn’t hold back.
He gripped his cock harder, stroking faster, the underwear pushed down by his efforts. 
“I. I can’t…” he stammered through the haze “I need, please…”
He almost sobbed, begging his unseen audience. “Please.”
He pinched roughly on his nipple, the sharp pain tipping him over the edge, and he came all over his hand with a wordless cry. 
He struggled not to collapse onto the bed, but he did rest back on his ankles as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely… surprised by the intensity of his orgasm. He glanced up at the camera with a smirk, flicking his tongue out to lick his lips. “Until next time, darling.” 
He winked at the camera and then crawled forward so he could turn it off. Once that was done, he fell back on the bed with a contented sigh before remembering the state of his pants. He grimaced and reluctantly got up to go shower, the thought of the White Wolf still lingering in his mind.
________
Next
Taglist (18+): @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos @moonysourenza @frances-the-red @honeysuckletook @elliestormfound @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral  @kittynannygaming @stinastar @fontegagrilledcheese @baka-yu @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @justjess94 @kozkaboi @wherethewordsare Let me know if you want to be added for this story or in general!
147 notes · View notes
notchesandbullets · 3 years
Text
Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)
Tumblr media
Art credits: @floatzxs​
Part 11: Internship with Hound Dog, Aizawa’s totally not jealous. You and Shinsou get along great, except when you don’t. Kayama and Yamada’s endless teasing of Aizawa who’s turned into a total dad to you both. Heavily inspired by the picture above.
Word Count: 4.7k
Tumblr media
Aizawa didn't like it.
You were getting way too close to the Hound Dog. He watched as you threw your head back and laughed at something he said, running around in circles around the pro-hero you were doing your internship under.
Yup, definitely way too close.
He tried to convince himself it wasn't because he was jealous. After all, you were the only one he called 'dad', right?
That had to mean something
He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated sigh. Seriously, he was being too irrational.
You were on a security patrol with Hound Dog on campus, the hybrid teaching you how to put your enhanced senses to good use, looking for discrepancies in the air on a whim.
Aizawa knew you weren't going to ask him for him to take care of you and train you. You already knew he was busy with Shinsou, that kid in your general studies with a brainwashing quirk.
Sure, the two of you hit it off, his endless sarcasm and attitude bringing you out of your shell and causing the two of you to banter back and forth every time you were in the same vicinity.
It drove him up a wall.
But it was because you saw how much time he was dedicating to Shinsou that he knew you weren't going to ask him to train you as well.
So when Hound Dog extended you an opportunity for an internship, Aizawa couldn't turn you down once you turned those shining eyes on him.
You were all too eager when you asked him for permission, bouncing up and down the entire time you told him about it. He was pretty sure you made a point about it being a good way to prepare for the Quirk Traffickers just in case and that's what made him finally agree.
He never regretted the decision more.
Look, it wasn't because he didn't want you to get strong. Quite the opposite, in fact. You both had already been through all that and he didn't wasn't keen on the same misunderstanding happening again.
But he didn't see why it had to be with Hound Dog of all heroes.
True, your quirks were somewhat similar. And you seemed to get along really well. Not as well as you and him but it was decent enough.
Oh.
He stopped and stared.
I'm jealous, aren't I?
Turning away with a sigh, he headed back to his office. He had papers to grade and rowdy students to round up.
Several yards away, You danced rings around Hound Dog, waving your hands around excitedly.
He had been the one to help you design your hero costume. Clothing that was sleek enough to give you a speed advantage and a pattern that could conform to your surroundings would help you blend in with your environment without any trouble.
The utility belt around your hips held several throwing knives to make up for your lack of long-distance combat ability and canisters of ointment so you could administer first-aid on sight. Credits of the idea went to Todoroki when he showed you his one evening when you asked just before sparring.
Your shoulders and legs were built to withstand severe impacts, making you able to run faster and for longer periods of time without wearing them down.
Hound Dog had recommended combat boots and braces to reduce the strain on your muscles for your arms and legs while you engaged in combat, making it easier to fight knowing that you didn't have to worry too much about the repercussions.
Hatsume was a little too eager when she gave them your requested upgrades but that girl was damn gifted so you didn't complain.
"Watch out for that wire." Hound Dog barked at you as you aimlessly almost crashed into a tree.
It wouldn't do anything except set off an alarm and put up UA's defense grid. Which is why he couldn't have you tip it off.
The pro-hero shook his head as you righted yourself sheepishly. You were like a pup, literally. Still, it was rather endearing. He didn't have any children but if he did, he reckoned that they'd be a lot like you.
"Eraser's kid, come on." He growled and you pouted, stomping your foot childishly.
"I have a name!!" You huffed, hands on your hips indignantly.
"Yeah, Eraser's kid. Now let's go." He ordered and you passed by him with a small frown, crossing your arms over your chest.
Rude.
You were happy though. After all this time, you had someone you could call dad. It was weird but in a homely sort of sense. You rather liked it.
The two of you patrolled UA's grounds without much trouble. He taught you the route to take as well as escape paths in place if you ever found yourself in a tough situation you couldn't get out of.
UA's sensors were top-grade, one of the best security systems in the country, but he had to prepare you for all scenarios. Just in case.
You padded behind him as you made your way through the thicket that surrounded the school, thanking him as he helped you pick your way through the forest.
There were a bunch of hidden traps and you were surprised when he told you the reason behind it.
"UA's been reforming security since the USJ incident." Hound Dog snarled in what you figured to be equal parts anger and irritation. "Remember, if you're going to go anywhere after hours for any reason, you must have a guardian with you, is that clear?"
You nodded firmly, unfazed by his aggression. It wasn't like you had thought about breaking the rules, even if there was a certain charm to it that enticed you, you were sure it would give Aizawa and Ojiro a heart attack.
Soon, it was time for a lunch break.
You were pretty surprised when he suggested a hunt but were extremely enthusiastic at the prospect of satisfying your instincts. The urge to maul and maim only came about if you were starving and even then, it was still possible to suppress it if you concentrated long enough.
Creeping around a tree, you utilized the foliage as a cover as you crept up on an unsuspecting prey.
You didn't make a sound as you crouched down, hiding between the blades of grass. Your lips drew back in a snarl as you locked on your target, springing on it and catching it by surprise. With one swipe, you killed it and took it in your jaws to carry back to where Hound Dog was.
He raised an eyebrow at you as you practically pranced over to him, beaming proudly at your first kill in a decade.
It had been far too long since you had a fresh kill.
You licked your lips as soon as you set it down in front of him as some sort of peace offering, wagging your tail as you waited for him to say something.
But you shrunk back and whimpered as he glared at you.
"Sloppy!!!" He bellowed, howling with spit spraying from his muzzled mouth. "Your control needs work!!!"
Your ears drooped and your eyes saddened but you nodded meekly.
Hound Dog sat back on his hunches. He had watched you closely while you hunted and seen what you could improve on.
"You need to work on your patience." He growled out gruffly and huffed when you fixated your large eyes on him. "You almost let it escape. Just because you were able to pin it down in time doesn't mean you did it right!! That was only the result!!"
You hung onto his advice, finding it sound beneath his brash way of wording it and trying to learn as much out of it as you can.
"You're fast but you're not as strong yet." Hound Dog stated, pointing to the shoes on your feet. "Hatsume made those specifically for your speed so your surprise attack should come from behind, not the front."
He scratched his head, grumbling out reluctantly, "But it wasn't bad for your first kill."
You sat up straighter at the begrudging praise, eyes shining and a huge smile stretched from ear to ear.
"Grrrr, but don't let it go to your head!!!" He snapped, pushing your fresh kill towards you so that you could eat it.
Your smile got impossibly wider and you nodded so fast your ears flopped back and forth.
"Eraser's kid, huh?" Hound Dog mused to himself as he collected firewood so that you could cook it.
Although the both of you could eat it raw, you both preferred it cooked unless you were in a particularly savage mood.
He huffed as he gathered a bunch of sticks for kindling.
"She's already strong."
After school let out, you walked home with your purple-haired friend from your general studies class. Annoying little brat.
You found out in a very short period of time that you could not stand him when he got like this. Ever since he found out about your little crush on Ojiro, he hadn't let up.
"Don't you dare." You seethed through clenched teeth as he dangled your notebook in front of your face. "Shinsou, I'm warning you."
The two of you were sitting in Aizawa's living room area. School had let out an hour ago and knowing that your teacher/parental guardian would be going home for the weekend, you two had decided to tag along and bug him.
Unable to get rid of the two of you annoying leeches, Aizawa had firmly instructed the two of you to at least get started on your homework if you were going to be here.
An array of textbooks spread out in front of you while the TV played in the background. You had studied and got through a decent amount of reading but that had only worked for all of ten minutes.
Shinsou smirked, keeping it high above his head. "If you want it, come and get it."
You snarled, pouncing on him before he could blink. The one good thing about the way his quirk worked was that you had to answer his question or jib. It was good because you only ever growled at him when he got like this.
He shoved your face and you whined as your fingertips brushed your notebook, licking his hand.
Shinsou recoiled in disgust. "Ew, Y/N!! That's so gross!!!"
"Serves you right!!" You quipped, grabbing at the spiral that was kept out of your reach. "Give it backkkkk."
"Oh no," He said with a smug smirk. "Not until I see just how many times you wrote Y/N x Mashirao with hearts drawn around it in here."
Before he could follow through with that threat, the notebook was snatched from his hand, the cry of outrage dying on the tip of your tongue. Your eyes flickered up to your dad who was now hovering above the both of you. You hadn't even heard him come in.
He was dressed casually, his hair pulled back away from his face, revealing his scar that he had gotten when the League attacked his students and instead of his hero costume, he was wearing sweatpants and a black, long-sleeved shirt.
Coffee, his tortoiseshell cat, purred at his feet as he fixated a glare on the two of you for not behaving.
"If you have time to play around then maybe you'd like more work to do." Aizawa threatened Shinsou before turning to you. "And you should know by now not to respond to him when he's like that, he's just provoking you."
You hung your head, pushing out your bottom lip as far as it would go.
He sighed, walking over and patting your head. "It's alright, kid. I know you're just playing."
You tail thumped happily in response at being let off the hook.
Shinsou's mouth twisted down into a frown. "Hey, why are you coddling her and not me?"
Aizawa promptly smacked him over the head and the teen winced at the brute force that his mentor delivered.
"Because she's been through a lot and you're being a cheeky brat." He deadpanned.
You flinched as Shinsou turned his sharp glare on you, but relaxed when you saw him soften slightly, letting you know that he was just teasing. Wiggling your eyebrows playfully, you snickered but hid it quickly as Aizawa's attention snapped to you next.
"Oi, you two better get along." Aizawa ordered, turning to leave the room to go back to where Kayama and Yamada were at. "If I hear one peep out of either of you, there will be consequences."
"Yes, sensei." You both chorused together, but not before sharing an evil look with each other that passed under his radar as he left to continue the conference.
The second he stepped out, all hell broke loose.
Your eyes shot to him when he stood up, taking up the practiced stance Aizawa had been teaching him, gesturing for you to do the same. You popped up to your feet but you didn't get a chance to swing as he rushed at you.
"Don't you even think about— SHINSOU, YOU IDIOT!!!!!"
Your shriek carried clearly to the other room and the three teachers sitting in Aizawa's office.
"Aw, isn't that precious." Kayama cooed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand and drummed her fingers on the table she was sitting at.
Yamada was sprawled upside down on his couch, nearly falling off and crashing to the ground when the shared wall between you guys and them shook.
"Uh, Shouta." He called to his best friend as he sighed in exasperation, the underground hero pinching the bridge of his nose. "Aren't you going to take care of that?"
Aizawa groaned, his head lolling back to thump against the opposite wall. "I'm too tired for this."
Kayama's grin grew mischievous and her eyes sparkled. "Shouta, they're your children for goodness sake!!"
Yamada matched her crazy smile and he flailed a bit before getting the right equilibrium to sit up straight. "He's a dad!! It finally happened!!!"
The rugged underground hero threw a pillow at both of their faces to get them to stop laughing as his best friends chortled obnoxiously.
"Shut up." He grumbled, throwing an arm across his face.
He flinched as the racket kicked up from the living room suddenly stopped at the sound of a very loud crash.
Aizawa stalked towards the door and ripped it open, narrowing his eyes until they became slits. "If they broke anything..."
The other two shared a knowing glance with each other.
"He's going to chew them out for messing up his living room." Kayama gloated, bounding over to peek outside so she could see what was going on.
Yamada skipped over, tripping over his feet in his haste to not be left behind. "Then he's going to feel bad and then he's going to leave and let them do it again."
"Discipline, Shouta," Kayama tsked as she murmured. "You need to discipline them."
Raising an eyebrow at her, he commented, "That sounds a little weird coming from you, Nemuri."
"Oh hush!!" She snapped, smacking him on the arm so hard that he yelped. "Not like that!!"
Her energy and bubbly nature resurfaced as she heard Aizawa doing exactly what she and Yamada panned out.
"He's such a dad." She crooned, wanting to see how you were wrapping him around your finger this time around.
It always was the most entertaining thing, seeing her stoic best friend crumble underneath your adorable pouts and watery puppy eyes. It never failed to force Aizawa to throw up his hands and give into you.
Soft Dadzawa was the best.
You and Shinsou lowered your heads as Aizawa strictly admonished the two of you.
The once clean and tidy living room had been thrown out of order and you had feathers in your hair. You weren't exactly sure how Shinsou managed to rip the pillow as he was throwing at you, but you weren't keen on finding out now.
You yelped in pain as Aizawa smacked you upside the head, giving the same treatment to the sheepish-looking boy next to you.
"Honestly." Aizawa exhaled forcefully, gripping his head, frustration coming through clear. "What am I going to do with the two of you..."
You grinned but bit your lip when he shot you a glare, blinking up innocently at him.
Shinsou chuckled, petting Coffee nonchalantly as she climbed into his lap, smiling as the cat purred, loving the attention he gave her.
Aizawa sighed, done for now. He had things he had to finish so that the two loudmouths waiting in his office would leave. He wanted to sleep.
"Thirty minutes."
You and Shinsou straightened up at the tiredness in his voice, casting a slightly worried look between the two of you. You had heard him angry and frustrated but never tired like this. He must really be exhausted.
Aizawa took no notice of the silent dialogue between the two of you. "Can you two please behave for that long?"
He was surprised when there was no snark from Shinsou or witty answer from you as the two of you bowed at him but thought nothing of it as he left the room once more.
If either of you kicked up a racket like that again, he would send Yamada out to deal with you.
As soon as the door closed behind him, the two of you were up on your feet but now for another reason entirely.
"Where is it?" You asked, looking in every cabinet but coming up short.
"Here."
You caught what Shinsou tossed you, nodding in thanks. Opening the garbage bag, you got to work, picking up what you had broken while he grabbed a broom and swept up the feathers littering the floor.
In all of ten minutes, everything was cleaned and put back in its original position and the two of you returned to your studies.
Aizawa was shocked to find you in that same position another twenty minutes later when he was showing his nosy colleagues out the door but didn't comment on it, merely shoved Kayama out when she cooed at how cute you two were.
She tried to whine in protest. "But Shouta—"
"Get lost, Nemuri."
Shinsou frowned as Coffee jumped up from his lap as the door slammed closed, making her way over to Aizawa.
"Mean." He said under his breath, making you laugh.
You closed your notes and textbook, done for the day. Packing them away, you noticed Shinsou had finished, too.
"Want to walk back together?" You asked.
He snorted, smirking at you. "No."
You stuck out your tongue, puffing out your cheeks at him. "Rude."
He ruffled your hair and you scowled, swiping at him but he darted out of reach before you could grab him. You two squabbled all the way to the front door, just about to put on your shoes when there came a quiet murmur from the edge of the kitchen.
"Are you hungry?"
You froze and Shinsou cocked his head, turning around slowly. Aizawa's frame was braced against the corner of the wall somehow when you weren't paying attention, he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing countless scars and a lot more muscle than you originally thought.
His eyes narrowed at his students. "You two didn't eat yet."
"Ah..." Shinsou winced. "It's alright, sensei, I have some food back at the dorm."
Without changing your expression, you deadpanned. "He's lying."
"Y/N!!!"
Squealing as he charged at you, you launched yourself into your dad's chest, hoping he would protect you.
"Dad, Toshi's being mean again!!!" You cried as Shinsou chased you.
"Get back here!!" Shinsou mock snarled, snapping his teeth at you.
You clutched on tighter to Aizawa's shirt, sending him a pleading look.
He sighed but even you could tell he was holding back a smile as he put an arm around you while warding off his student with the other.
You slyly stuck your tongue out at the defeated brainwashing kid but your dad caught the action.
"Y/N..." He warned. "Don't instigate."
"Yes, Dad." You said seriously, snuggling into his side before peering back up at him. "Can Toshi stay for dinner?"
You already knew he wanted to cook for you. That much was evident when he asked if you had eaten yet. He had this uncanny habit of doing things indirectly and with how much you knew Shinsou was like him, you knew if you called him out on it, the two would flatly deny that that's what he meant.
Better to play along.
Not that you were complaining. Aizawa's home cooking was actually really good, when he had the time and energy for it. Usually, you did most of the cooking, having enough skills thanks to Sato to make things that were edible.
"Only if he wants to." Aizawa told you before glancing up at Shinsou shuffling his feet awkwardly. "You're more than welcome to, kid."
Shinsou didn't say anything at first but he moved closer to you guys, away from the front door.
"Are you sure, sensei?" He asked, a hint of worry swimming in the depths of his eyes, afraid he wasn't being genuine.
That he was only asking out of politeness and that he didn't really want him there. But looking at you, he only saw pure, radiating hope in your gaze.
You were being honest with him and though Aizawa's was vastly more subtle, he saw the truth in his teacher's eyes, too.
Shinsou nodded hesitantly, his own way of answering and you beamed.
"Great!! I'll get started!!"
You dashed into the kitchen, pulling out the vegetables and started the fire to get the water boiling for the noodles. Your dad had already pulled out and marinated the meat for tonight, all that was left was to cook it.
But in all your excitement, you were moving a little too fast.
Aizawa stiffened, then shook his head as another crash could be heard from the kitchen, followed by a sheepish 'oops'.
He crossed his arms over his chest, already making his way over to where Shinsou couldn't see. "Kid..."
"It wasn't me, I swear!!" You blurted out.
Pouting as you were banned from the kitchen anyways, you skipped over to where Shinsou was awkwardly sitting on a chair by the table. He looked so uncomfortable.
You frowned, then beamed as a light bulb went off in your head.
He leaned back warily as he saw the glint of mischief in your eyes as you came closer. "What are you doing?"
"Aw, you don't trust me?" You asked playfully.
"Never." He retorted and you pouted childishly.
"Meanie."
He waved you off but you could already tell he was much more relaxed than before. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, what did you want?"
You gestured for him to come closer so your dad wouldn't hear and whispered in his ear. "I know where he keeps his capture weapon and goggles."
Shinsou tried but even he couldn't wipe the excitement off his face fast enough. He never told you but he was a hardcore Eraserhead fan, even before coming to UA. Since he was an underground hero, there was no media coverage on him, no merchandise to be sold in stores but he knew.
Aizawa had saved him once, a long time ago.
His parents were rich and completely absent from his life. He didn't grow up with a family because they were never around and he didn't grow up with friends because of his quirk.
Independent from a young age, he had distanced himself from almost everybody, living a life of solitude no matter how many presents his parents tried to throw at him to buy his love.
He was glad that he moved out of their ridiculous mansion ages ago, moving in with a cousin until he was old enough to live on his own, but what he didn't plan on was being attacked by a villain one day as he was walking home from school.
Aizawa had saved him back then, acting quickly to rescue him and take down the other.
Shinsou once questioned that if this hero knew back then how villainous his quirk was, would he have saved him?
Of course he would have. And that's what spurred on his decision, his path that he wanted to take.
All because of Eraserhead.
It thrilled him when his hero, his idol himself, offered to train and teach him personally how to become a hero before his transfer into the hero course. When he approached him after the sports festival, he almost passed out right then and there.
That must have been what a lot of people experienced towards All Might.
He never talked about his admiration of him before though, so you must've been much more observant than he gave you credit for.
Shinsou attempted to look disinterested at your proposal. "Really?"
Your grin grew wider and you grabbed his hand, hauling him up out of the chair as you snuck into Aizawa's room. You knew how much he wanted to see them up close and try them out, even if he wouldn't admit to it.
"Come on!!" You giggled, ushering him inside quickly and digging into the nightstand by the futon.
Needless to say, when Aizawa found the two of you once dinner was ready, Shinsou was caught red-handed with his capture weapon on and his trademark goggles on his face.
Even with both the scarf and goggles covering his face, you could still see him turn bright red as he was caught by his mentor.
"Don't worry!!" You threw over your shoulder as you flounced away, leaving the two of them alone. "He's not mad!!"
Shinsou tensed as the door closed behind you, ripping off everything as fast as he could even though it would've prevented what had already been done. A hand on his shoulder halted him.
Aizawa's mouth twitched and his gaze held a glimmer of amusement. "Cool, right?"
Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Shinsou nodded and apologized for trying them on without his permission, embarrassed beyond belief.
The older man tried to soothe his worries by casting him a purposeful look. "You know, it might come in handy later on."
Tucking away his capture weapon and goggles, Aizawa pretended not to notice how Shinsou's jaw dropped in shock at what he was suggesting for him.
"If you go to the Development Studio, I'm sure they could make something similar for you." He told him while suppressing a proud smile.
He had come so far since the Sports Festival. He had trained hard on his own and while he was already proud of him for all his efforts and his drive, to have him admire a gruff, anti-social man like him sent warmth blooming in his chest.
Shinsou couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Would...."
He swallowed thickly, pushing aside his pride and the remnants of his embarrassment.
"Would you teach me how to fight with it?"
Aizawa's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "Sure thing, kid."
Shinsou thought that was the last behind him when he followed his mentor out the door to go eat the dinner waiting for them. You were already at the table, portions served out, kicking your feet as you waited impatiently for them.
But Aizawa wasn't finished.
"The goggles suited you." He commented nonchalantly, causing the boy's face to flush in embarrassment once again.
"Aizawa-sensei!!" Shinsou protested.
You doubled over, clutching your stomach. "Good one, Dad!!!"
Looking on fondly as the two of you began to bicker, you teasing Shinsou and him furiously defending whatever dignity he had left, Aizawa's smile softened.
You two.
He guessed he didn't mind that it was the two of you.
Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​
92 notes · View notes
novelconcepts · 3 years
Text
fic: she tells me worship (in the bedroom)
There are days, as the years burn away like so much kindling, where everything is the best it possibly could be. Days where Dani’s beast in the jungle is silent--maybe no longer there at all--and her demeanor is smooth and easy. She matches Jamie’s smile on these days, warm and light and happy, and Jamie can’t get enough. Could never ask for more than Dani in her best mood, Dani’s laugh the clearest bell in the room.
Those days are wonderful--but they are, of course, not the only sort. Natural enough, Jamie knows, for anyone, though maybe somewhat more of a concern for Dani. The days where Dani’s tensions run high are doubly-loaded, one part the natural discomfort of a bad day, one part Dani’s mounting fear of losing herself. 
You’re here, she tells Dani on days like this. You’re right here, with me, and you’re not going anywhere. 
Dani grits her teeth, furrows her brow, nods. Jamie pulls her close, still murmuring the words like an endless prayer. She’s not much for religion, Jamie; never much saw the point of asking for miracles from ghosts and gods. Bad days with Dani, though, are their own kind of religion. They form their own kind of belief, stretched between them, one that says Dani is here, Dani is strong, Dani is in control whether or not she feels it. 
There are good days, and there are bad days, and there are days like this whole week has been: middling days. Days where Dani is not fumbling away from her with breath whistling high and fast, but neither is she laughing. Days where Dani wakes with a grimace already on her lips, her temper short, her body clenched as she moves about the apartment. Jamie has learned to read these moods, has learned Dani doesn’t need her to ask questions or work to soothe her nerves. Dani in a mood like this is independence, so used to fighting the battle of her own bad day alone, she sometimes only feels worse if Jamie tries to take her hand. 
Jamie has learned, instead, to stand back a few steps. To keep her eyes on Dani’s expression, to keep her ears perked for a sign Dani is shifting toward something genuinely dark, something that will genuinely require Jamie to step in and catch her. Some days, it goes this way--a middling day turning without warning into bleak horror. Some days, she needs this of Jamie. 
Other days, she needs something else entirely. Something to turn a highly-strung afternoon into a pleasurable evening. Something to remind her, though she does not always have control over her mood, there are other things to grab hold of and use to her own ends. 
Jamie doesn’t mind in the least. 
***
She knows it will reach a breaking point eventually. There’s just a scent on the air when Dani is like this, no matter what image she’s projecting to the rest of the world--sooner or later, the smile will slip, the polite laugh will dry away, and there will be only Dani Clayton in all her magnificent frustration left. 
It’s really just a matter of waiting it out. 
In the meantime, there’s plenty to do. The shop is thriving; Jamie, who had spent most of that first year wanting to pull her hair out over numbers, is still not entirely convinced she can trust the implication that they are doing well. The odds of moving to America on a whim to start a flower shop that actually survives its first few years were slim; the fact that they are rapidly becoming a fixture of their small Vermont town, taking in larger swaths of customers every month, is baffling. 
It pleases Dani, too, she knows--most of the time. When Dani isn’t dealing with a customer like this one, a shrewd-eyed woman who calls into question Dani’s comprehension of her job at every other turn. 
“Anything I can help with?” Jamie asks, leaning around Dani with a surreptitious hand brushing her back. Dani shoots her a sharp look, a not now look, and she nods. 
“Right. Be in the back if you need me.”
Some days, if you need me is a call sign, an olive branch Dani grabs with greedy hands. Some days, after a customer like this one, Jamie finds herself propped against the back room table with Dani tearing at her zipper before she even realizes. 
Not today. Today, when she pokes her head back out to ensure Dani hasn’t actually murdered the old bat, she finds Dani already chatting with someone else. Politely. Smiling, even, though Jamie knows better than anyone what Dani’s barely-hanging-on smile looks like. 
“All good?” she murmurs as the new customer saunters away, careful not to so much as graze Dani. Mismatched eyes snag her gaze, Dani huffing out a breath. 
“Sometimes I wonder why we picked a job with so many people.”
“Be a lot more fun with just us,” Jamie agrees. “Though how we’d fit all those lovely pillows into a cardboard box, I couldn't say.”
Dani grants her a small laugh, barely enough for Jamie to coast on. It’s almost nothing, but it’s what Dani can manage today, and that’s fine enough. Jamie considers saying something else--telling Dani with words that she is here, that she can handle all the worst customers the day has to offer, that she doesn’t mind if Dani begs out early. Not that words matter most, with Dani. Words have never been the thing, where Jamie is concerned, for Dani.
“I’m all right,” Dani says, a bit stiffly. Jamie shuts her mouth, nods. 
“Sure. ‘Course you are. If you, ah, need me...”
It’s becoming a prayer of its own, she thinks sometimes, a plea to the part of Dani that desperately requires both hands on the wheel. If you need me. Which, no matter how it shows, Dani always does. Even on days like this, where Dani can’t quite fit right into her own skin, where Dani is trapped between normal human irritation and the mounting anger she carries for someone else. Dani always does need her. 
It’s just that that need doesn’t always look the same.
"What say we order in tonight?” Jamie asks as they’re closing up. “Throw on a movie?”
Dani shrugs. “Fine. Need to hit the grocery store first, though, we’re out of...a lot of things.”
“I can do it,” Jamie offers. Dani slides her a grateful smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 
“I’m fine, Jamie. I promise.”
“No, I know,” Jamie says, a bit too hurriedly to be believed. “Only--look, I know it’s been a hard week. I just...”
“Want to help,” Dani fills in when her voice trails awkwardly away. Jamie scrubs a hand down her face. 
“Yeah. But if I’m hovering, I don’t--”
Dani doesn’t quite touch her. Dani seems some days unable to touch her, or be touched, like she’s afraid basic physical contact will release the thing lurking inside. It’s the anger, she says, her voice strained with worry. It’s that rage. 
Won’t hurt me, Jamie says, with a confidence she has never been more sure of than while looking into Dani’s eyes. Wouldn’t ever. 
It’ll pass, she knows--in an hour, in a day, in a week. It’ll pass, and Dani will be back to her usual self once more, laughing, telling stories Jamie hasn’t yet had time to memorize, trailing her fingers across Jamie’s face. Back in the driver’s seat, as it were. The only thing in charge of her own choices.
She allows Jamie a brief kiss, the single negotiation made with her demons--there is never a time, no matter how she feels, or what petty argument they’ve had, where Dani does not kiss her goodbye. 
The apartment isn’t filthy, by any stretch, but certain things have fallen by the wayside over the course of a busy week. Jamie sets to work alone, humming her way through laundry collection--the pair of underwear beneath the couch offers a particularly pleasant memory: Dani stretched back against the arm, sighing as Jamie undressed her and settled in to explore--and stacking dishes in their proper places. Little things, she reminds herself. Little ways to make it easier on Dani until Dani can breathe easier all on her own. Jamie doesn’t mind doing the dishes, sweeping up, ensuring the plants are watered and the bathroom tissue is restocked. Dani does the same for her, when the roles are reversed. 
Dani does more for her than she seems to realize. Even down to holding herself apart this way, too afraid of crossing a line she can’t take back. Jamie wishes there were words to explain how much that means--how much Dani’s self-imposed protective qualities make Jamie feel as though no one has ever been more important. It means the world, and it makes her crazy all the same, because there is nothing she’d like more than to hold Dani close when she gets this way. 
I’m not sick of you, she thinks fiercely, stacking plates into the cupboard. Not now, not ever, Poppins, so when are you going to stop pushing me--
The key in the lock. She turns her head, watching Dani shove the door open, jerking her key back and forth to unstick it. “Hey, you’re back. Good. Was just tryin’ to decide what kind of pizza--”
She pulls up short, leaning back against the counter with a frown. There’s a look on Dani’s face, a strange tight look that instantly makes her wonder if things are worse than Dani has been letting on of late. 
“You all right? You look...”
Dani shakes her head, tosses her purse so hard, it bounces back off the couch. She doesn’t seem to notice, preoccupied with the tight clench of her fists, the stilted stride that carries her across to the kitchen to deposit paper bags across the counter in a careless mess.
“Dani, what happened?” There’s keeping her distance, and there’s keeping things from Jamie. The look on her face now, the sharp cut of her mouth, the taut clutch of her jaw, is just this side of worrying. “I need you to talk--”
Dani has her shirt in one hand, bunched in her fist, dragging her close. Jamie stares, her stomach giving an agreeable little lurch. 
“Did I do something?” she asks. Unlikely, sure, but always a possibility. Always possible there’s something she didn’t notice to make up for. 
Dani, though, shakes her head once. Her hand tightens, pulling Jamie forward, past the kitchen threshold to the living room rug. She stops, swaying slightly as though not entirely certain where she is. 
Jamie--growing less concerned, more intrigued by the second--hesitates. There are only so many outcomes, from this sort of greeting. Only so many outcomes from the way Dani is looking at her now, a sort of helpless tension held in every curve of her face. 
“Can...can I help now?” Jamie asks, half-expecting Dani to release her, to crumple, to open the door to whatever she’s been holding Jamie away from all week. It’s like this, sometimes. Dani, surrendering to her after days of miserably tending her own mental demons. Dani, falling into her with exhaustion. Sometimes. 
Not always. 
Dani is pushing her, she realizes, her hand dragging up Jamie’s front to grip her shoulder. The pressure she applies is surprisingly gentle, but too firm for Jamie to deny for anything but the best reason. She allows herself to sink, allows Dani to shove her down until her knees strike rug, until she’s staring with her head tipped back and her skin growing hot. 
There’s something about this view, she thinks, that will never grow old. Particularly with Dani looking at her this way, eyes stormy, brow creased with some combination of frustration and--
“Let me help,” Jamie says, half a suggestion, half a plea. She reaches a hand to Dani, giving her ample time to step back, to change her mind. Dani, instead, reaches to the hem of her own skirt, yanks it to her waist. 
“Please.”
One word, and Jamie’s whole body shudders. Dani’s hand slips up, skimming her cheek, delving into her hair. She’s staring at Jamie like a challenge, like a dare: love me now, her eyes seem to say. Love me like this. 
More than that, Jamie promises silently, pressing forward into her. There’s loving Dani, certainly--she’s happy to do it, privileged to do it, doesn’t even think about it anymore. There’s an instinct to loving Dani she gave into long ago, with no desire or intention of turning back. 
This, though. This is more than loving. This is the closest thing to religion she’s capable of, the closest thing to belief she can wrap her head around. Forced to her knees by Dani’s hand, moving to kiss Dani from this spot of supplication, is the truest kind of worship she's ever known how to give. 
Dani exhales above her, the breath leaving her in a rush as Jamie slides her hands up the backs of her thighs. Her skin still holds a chill from the early winter air, and Jamie lets her palms rest for a moment, giving Dani her own warmth as a gift of greeting. She peers up at Dani, watching her sway with anticipation, watching her gaze down that same scorching challenge: Love me like this. Even today. Even when I can’t love myself. 
She presses a kiss, small and sweet and barely anything at all, to the crest of Dani’s underwear. Dani makes a low noise in her throat, something shaky, palming the back of her head in an effort to push her closer. Fast, she recognizes--Dani wants her fast, rough, to demolish the day’s shadows in no time at all. 
Dani wants it that way--but it isn’t what she needs. Jamie tilts her head, brushes against Dani with her nose, moves to kiss the inside of one thigh instead. She feels Dani’s hand loosen, allowing her the freedom, and she takes it with glee. Each kiss is small, gentle, a bare approximation of what Dani is asking of her, but with each press and release of her lips on Dani’s skin, she feels some of the tension go out of Dani’s grip. Dani, who has spent all day strung tighter than Jamie could possibly know, and who could demand more of Jamie now, sighs. 
She doesn’t beg. Doesn’t even speak. Only splays her fingers across the back of Jamie’s skull, her palm resting at the crown of Jamie’s head, letting her go where she will. Trusting that Jamie, taking her time with every kiss, smoothing her hands down to cup behind Dani’s knees, dragging her nails lightly down Dani’s calves, knows how to read her. 
Control, thinks Jamie, as she so often does in moments like this. Given freely, it’s an intoxicant all its own. 
There’s something about the way Dani trembles when she opens her mouth against smooth skin, when she runs her tongue in a slow, gentle arc up toward the juncture of Dani’s pelvis. Something about the tightening of Dani’s hand in her hair that makes her feel more alive than she ever does walking the world. 
She’s giving the same treatment to Dani’s other leg, tracing one hand lightly around her kneecap, digging her nails gently in, when Dani utters her first low moan. Jamie smiles into her skin. 
“Yes?”
“Didn’t ask you to talk,” Dani says, though Jamie can hear her smile. She slides a hand higher, gripping the underside of one thigh, digging her thumb in. 
“Didn’t ask for much, from what I recall. Bit demanding, Poppins.”
“If you’re complaining,” Dani says, “I can just take care of it myself.”
“Not like I can,” Jamie points out, and Dani grips harder, yanking her head back. She gives a hiss of pleasure. “Oh, you’re not denying it.”
“You,” Dani points out with an arch of her brow, “are denying me.”
“Let me back to it, then.” She’s playing with fire. She’s playing with fire, and Dani could turn the tables at any moment, could push her away and decide she isn’t in the mood after all. 
Dani, to the contrary, gives her a smile that makes her glad she’s already on her knees. Her hand flexes in Jamie’s hair, wrenching her forward without warning, and Jamie groans against her, biting gently through the fabric of underwear that, already, is considerably wetter than it had been. This, she thinks, should have been their entire day. Their entire week. Dani gripping her skirt in one hand, Jamie’s hair in the other, already revolving her hips gently to meet the slow press of Jamie’s tongue. 
“Tease,” Dani sighs, as she circles, wraps her mouth around already-straining nerves, sucks lightly through sticky cotton. “Fuck.”
Jamie smiles against her, pleased; Dani already swearing is a sign she’s been looking for this longer than she maybe even realized. Her hand presses Jamie in, her legs spreading slightly to give Jamie more space, and Jamie takes what she’s granted willingly. She’s kissing Dani with slow, heady abandon, eyes closed, aware with every small jolt of Dani’s hips that this is exactly where she ought to be. It’s easy to lose herself here, in the rock of Dani meeting her every stroke, in the taste of Dani soaking through thin fabric onto her tongue. She takes the edge of Dani’s underwear between her fingers, pulls it aside, uttering a low sound of pride at what she’s already accomplished. 
“Enough?” she asks politely, and Dani makes a breathless sound of aggravation above her. She bows back in, stretching the fabric away from where it belongs, letting her fingers graze slickly along Dani only once. Dani jerks. 
She could stay here, she thinks. Stay here on her knees, holding Dani in helpless limbo, forever. Stay here, feeling Dani’s gaze on her, feeling Dani’s desperation to push her closer coming up hard against her desire to let Jamie choose how this plays out. She’s never sure what will win, with Dani in a mood like this. 
“Jamie.” Not pleading, not yet, but slightly choked all the same. Her hand smooths down the back of Jamie’s head, urging her closer, and Jamie presses back into her palm for a beat. Just a few seconds of fighting the push, her fingers grazing back and forth--stroking once across skin, back across fabric, feeling Dani throb against her fingertips. 
“Jamie.” That was pleading. She slides her hands up, pulls the underwear down, supporting Dani as she steps out and all but crashes into Jamie’s mouth once more. 
That was pleading, and this is worship: sinking into Dani in every way that matters. She traces Dani with the tip of her tongue, curling when Dani sighs, stroking when Dani whimpers. The taste of her is overwhelming, drawing aside her own restraint a little at a time, and Jamie reminds herself exultation should not be rushed, benediction cannot be forced. True worship, true belief, is a slow, deliberate thing, inching ever nearer to something huge and glorious and well-earned. 
Dani’s nails dig hard into her scalp, scraping under her hair until she parts her lips around swollen nerves in a sharp sigh of pleasurable pain. Dani is making sounds of her own, muffled sounds against the clench of her teeth even as she’s grinding harder to meet every swipe of Jamie’s tongue. She sucks more forcefully, adds a gentle scrape of teeth that makes Dani twitch violently beneath her. A pounding heat between her own thighs gives a particularly sharp pulse, and Jamie welcomes it, welcomes it as she explores the familiar map of Dani soaking into her lips. 
She’s here, she tells herself, validated by every sound from Dani’s lips. She’s here, all of her. She imagines what she must look like now, her head bobbing between Dani’s legs as she twists and angles to offer every last inch of pleasure. What she must look like to Dani, with her eyes lidded and her body bucking, Dani who drives a hand against her head, pulling her hair hard to show Jamie exactly where she’s most needed. What must this look like: Jamie’s own hips rocking hopelessly against nothing, her hands occupied with holding Dani upright as the strength slides from her knees. She is the only thing keeping Dani here, keeping Dani in place, keeping Dani from collapsing to the floor in a heap. 
Dani is making breathless, almost keening sounds, pumping her hips hard to match the flick and roll of Jamie’s tongue. Jamie opens her eyes, leans back, letting the contact go just long enough to take Dani in: head thrown back, the cords of her neck standing out, trying with everything in her to keep her volume down. 
Let them hear you, Jamie thinks, delving in again with rough, reckless strokes. Let them fucking know. She’s moaning herself, unable to stop, unable to control her own voice as Dani grips her tight, thrusting to match her with frantic, nearly-there energy. 
Her fingers tremble, the desire to slide into Dani almost too strong to ward off. She resists. This is what they both need, instead, this urging of Dani over the edge with nothing more than what Jamie has already promised. Just the art of taking Dani into her mouth, drawing her tight, feeling her wind higher and higher as her hands glide through Jamie’s hair, catching, yanking. Nearly there, she knows, from Dani half-groaning her name. Nearly there, and it’s a shame to let it end, a shame to know this is not a permanent fixture of life, being on her knees in front of Dani Clayton. 
Dani is shuddering, crying, “There--there--fuck.” Jamie presses her tongue flat, gives a final broad stroke that sends Dani tumbling, each pulse against Jamie’s mouth feeling a little more like triumph. She keeps going even as Dani is slowing, even as Dani’s rough grip in her hair is loosening to something soft, something tender. 
“Jamie, I--I--”
Jamie is one long open kiss, warm and wet and needy in her own right, working a hand up the inner slope of her thigh, and now she is teasing with her fingers, now she is offering Dani this added gift, and Dani is making a high, surprised, wanting sound above her. 
“Jamie--” 
Tell me, Jamie commands silently, and Dani is so open, Dani is so wet, Dani is beyond ready even as she’s begging. She slides inside, eyes rolling back in her head when Dani clutches immediately around her, legs nearly buckling as Jamie curls fingers and tongue in the same action. 
She drops her skirt at last, closing both hands around Jamie’s head to ride this second climax to its height. Jamie, eyes closed, is not sure she needs anything but this to feel at home. Nothing but Dani shuddering around her, Dani arching to take her deeper. Nothing but Dani, letting her in. 
She leans her head against Dani’s hip, breathing hard, letting the skirt fall back into place. Dani, still trembling, wraps her arms around Jamie as best she can, leaning her head back and sighing. 
“I’m--”
“Good,” Jamie says, not much interested in an apology or an embarrassed explanation. She licks her lips, runs the back of her hand across her mouth, tilts her head to look up into Dani’s still-dazed face. “You’re good, Dani. All good.”
She stands, takes Dani’s face in her hands, runs her fingers along Dani’s parted lips. Dani smiles, tongue darting out to curl around one finger and Jamie makes a softly wanting sound against her own will. 
“You’re all right now?” she asks, her voice husky. Dani closes her eyes, nods, kisses her way along Jamie’s fingers until they’re clean. Then she’s kissing Jamie with all the quiet fever of a week spent staring into the shadows of her own head, pulling Jamie backward toward the couch, sinking down as the last of the strength finally goes out of her legs. 
She won’t talk about it--not now, not yet, not with her hand urgent against Jamie’s zipper. She won’t talk about it as she palms Jamie through her jeans, rubbing in hard strokes while Jamie sinks back against the couch and groans. She won’t talk about it, bending over Jamie to kiss her hard, slipping her hand into Jamie’s underwear and stroking, pinching, driving her toward a dazzling conclusion of her own. 
Later, maybe. Another night, maybe. This night, the push and pull of it, the teasing angle of her bent over Jamie with her hair curtaining them both and her smile welcoming Jamie to kiss her to completion all over again, was not made for that. This night is for Jamie to remind her of what is most important: that even on her worst day, even fed up with the world or the beast in the jungle, there is no enough for Jamie. There is no end, no exit, no edging away. 
She holds her close, arm around her waist as she pushes desperately up into Dani’s hand, understanding in some distant way that there is no such thing as too much where Dani is concerned. There is no darkness in Dani that can scare her off, no lack of control in Dani that doesn’t make her want to lead Dani back to a place of authority over her own life. There is nothing except Dani, striding into the room and forcing her to her knees; Dani, losing herself in the slide of her lips; Dani, needing and being needed. 
Let me in, she thinks with sleepy hope, as Dani kisses her and nestles against her side. Let me in, let me help you. I can give it back when she takes it away. 
She’ll say it, someday. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next year. She’ll say it, and Dani might even believe. 
In the meantime, she doesn’t mind this, the devoted worship of one who has never loved like she loves this woman. She doesn’t mind Dani being unable to ask. She doesn’t mind Dani’s fierce need coming to call. 
It’s mutual, she thinks as she dozes with Dani in her arms. It’s everything. 
160 notes · View notes
liddolwhynot2000 · 3 years
Note
Hey! So, I was wondering if I could get a levi x reader where the reader runs the tea shop levi goes to to get his tea and they slowly become friends before realizing they’ve fallen in love with eachother?
Aiii one of my first fic supporters ⭐ I'm so sorry for answering this so late. But I got you.
Here we goo. I hope it lives up to your expectations! @dove-music
____________________________________
Apricity
____________________________________
Summary:
After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.
With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.
___________________________________
Pairings: Levi/Reader
____________________________________
Genre: fluff, romance, Levi-does-not-know-romance, kinda funny
____________________________________
If Levi had to pick any place in the world that gave made him feel something akin to contentment, it would be the little tea shop that was a 10 minute walk from the Survey Corps.
It wasn't some big, fancy cafe, overcrowded with civilians and soldiers, like other establishments were. A small, cosy little shop in the corner of the street. The shop made good business, he could tell, with its modest furnishing and quality to tea.
He had stumbled upon it in a dire time of need- right after losing his beloved friends to titans. He had accepted that he would stay in the survey corps but he hadn't been willing to make friends at the time. He didn't want to get drunk with his fellow soldiers, or visit brothels. He had just wanted some quiet.
Levi had been walking along the street by himself, in the dark, when he had stumbled upon that cafe. It had been on a whim that he had decided to go inside and actually order something.
He would try to convince himself that it was a one time thing, that he was simply trying some of the luxuries the surface had to offer. But one time turned into two, two turned into ten and so on.
He was rewarding himself with good tea, Levi told himself, that was why he kept coming back. He fought titans for humanity, the least he could do was use his paycheck to buy himself a nice beverage every once in a while. It was treat to himself.
The sweet owner of the cafe had nothing to do with this. Nothing at all.
Yeah sure Levi nobody believes you
Shut up four eyes or else-
____________________________________
'Sir, here you go.'
'.. I didn't order this.'
Levi looked at the plate set infront of him with indifference, although a part of him wondered if it would taste as good as it looked. It was a chocolate cake slice, with some sort of white cream on it.
'It's on the house sir.'
He looked at you, feeling bewildered at the sight of your smiling face. Was this sort of shit normal in the surface? Just giving each other food? There had to be some sort of catch right?
'.. What do you want?'
You blinked at him in confusion.
'Er- nothing sir. We sometimes give free meals to customers. You're the lucky customer this week.'
Levi felt compelled to ask one more time.
'So I owe you nothing for this?'
'Absolutely nothing.'
'Right... Thanks.'
There was no more clarification he could ask for, not when you had used that firm tone. You excused yourself and walked away, leaving Levi to his treat.
Huh. The people here weren't so bad after all.
Maybe he would come back to try some more dishes later.
It's not to see you again hell no stop it Hange- it's NOT-
____________________________________
He later finds out that you're the owner of the cafe. You could just hire help and let others manage the cafe, but you prefer handling it yourself. Levi can't help liking that- so many people would just sit on their asses, but you're actually working hard.
He doesn't get around to going to the cafe again until a month later. It's after a grueling expedition and he's beyond irritated with everyone. For some reason, they've started calling him 'humanity's strongest' and frankly, Levi finds it to be a dumb title.
Becuase even with all his strength, he hadn't been able to save everyone.
Wanting to get away from overeager comrades and a sugar high Hange (somebody give moblit a raise poor boi), Levi decides to head to the cafe.
Yet again, you're the one who welcomes him. He silently thanks you when you seat him in the corner of the shop, an area where hardly anyone would see him and he wouldn't have to see anyone else. You had perhaps understood from his uniform and exhausted face that he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone, so you had hand him the menu and quietly tell him you'll be back in five minutes.
Once you get him his chosen tea, you also quietly leave a plate of another desert with it. This time, Levi doesn't bother asking questions. He nods at you gratefully before allowing himself to indulge in the delicacy infront of him.
He can't help but want to ask your name.
Aww Levi you drew a heart on that paper with her name on it-
No what the fuck YOU drew that four eyes-
___________________________________
He frequents the cafe at least twice a month for the next five years. It's become a tradition of sorts, going there after a tiresome mission, enjoying a meal made by you. You don't always let him have food for free of course, but it's often at a discounted rate. And as someone who has never enjoyed any privelege whatsoever in his entire life, he guards the special consideration you show him close to his heart.
The two of you don't interact much at the start, but Levi notices you. The way you give your workers decent time off, how you don't hesitate in offering monetary help or letting someone take the day off, even if it means you're overworked. He hasn't talked to you much, but he has a good opinion of you. He finds you fascinating, the first speck of kindness he's seen in his life, since Isabel and her desire to free a bird. Levi doesn't bother approaching you directly, because he doesn't even know what to say.
The two of you have a full interaction six months into his routine, the day Levi accidentally stays till its closing time. It had been good luck on your part--that when the drunk garrison soldiers had stumbled into your cafe will less then innocent intentions, Levi had been there to deal with them. As far as the garrisons were concerned, it had been the worst night of their lives. No amount of alcohol would ever be enough to make them forget what had happened.
Look at you, so protective of your woman even then-Levi where did you get that knife from--wait no - Erwin HELP-
He strikes a tentative friendship with you after that. You had been beyond thankful for his intervention, knowing you might not have made it out with your life if he hadn't been there. You made him cookies the next day, coming all the way to headquarters to give them to him.
Much to his despair, you meet his self proclaimed friend--Hange, and the two of you become friends too. He tries not to mind it, however, the day Hange flashes a cookie with what is clearly his frowning face drawn on it, he has to be held back by five soldiers from throwing Hange out the window. He marches to cafe, intending on letting out his ire at your insolence. But somehow, he doesn't tell you off like he had planned. Instead he finds himself asking you about your baking and art skills-even he would admit that the drawing of him had been spot on.
He does ban from making them again. You honoured it, until the two of you became good friends. Suddenly, every holiday involves at least one tray of grumpy Levi cookies. Even Erwin had enjoyed them, much to his exasperation. It had lead to his vow of never trying one.
They tasted amazing, I really think you should have tried them- OUCH that hurt shorty-
It doesn't take long till he finds himself purposefully visiting at closing time, knowing you'll just make yourself make a meal too, sit nearby and read a book. You engage him in conversation at times, telling him about the books you read. The two of you bond over food and fictional stories. He let's his walls down for you, little by little. You end up becoming the first person he let's in, his first friend, since the death of Isabel and Farlan.
Levi likes to think they would have liked you.
It's nice, spending time with you. You don't look at him like he's some God with all the solutions, like his comrades do. You aren't in some high risk career where he'd have to worry about you dying. You're stable and peaceful, exactly where you are.
Everytime he sets out for an expedition, he mentally prepares himself for not making it back without at least half his cormades. When it comes to you, his friend, he has no worries. You're safely tucked away in your cafe, out of reach from the titans grasp.
'friend' sure Levi, you write love letters for your friends.
Four eyes where the fuck did you get those from, give them back-
___________________________________
It's a peaceful day, as evidenced by the birds chirping and general pleasant atmosphere. One could say the weather is perfect. Just the right amount of sunshine shining in the streets, children enjoying themselves, chasing each other.
Even Levi is in a good mood. Of course, his good mood is amplified by his current location. His favorite cafe.
He's sitting inside, but the windows are open, letting in fresh air. He has a nice cup of tea on the table, with a plate full of sandwiches. You were seated in front of him, drinking some tea so sweet he could smell it.
You're telling him about a book, how you've analysed its villainous characters. He enjoys listening to you, often finding your ability to guage complex characters with relative ease to be startling. It makes him trust you more, knowing that no matter how fucked up something occurs, you wouldn't take it at face value.
You wouldn't judge him like that.
The two of you are interrupted as the bell chimes and someone enters the cafe. It's a young man, maybe in his 20s. He's dressed well, a white shirt with a brown vest on top. You put down the book down and smile as you go to greet him.
Suddenly, Levi doesn't feel as peaceful as before. He keep his eyes to his tea but his ears are perked up as he listens to you chatter with the man.
'Hello. Its been a while eh?'
'It has. I've been in Wall Sina getting some work done. Finally finished it, those damn nobles ask us for way too much-'
The man places an order for a bag of biscuits, ones you had already made. You give him a discount, which Levi smugly notes isn't even half of what he gets, and he tells you he has to leave soon. Levi's relieved really, he doesn't know what he's feeling, but he knows he doesn't like him.
'.. Maybe next time, I could take you out on a date...'
Even though you gently reject the man, who takes it well, Levi can't stop frowning. Once you take your place in infront of him again and continue your explaination, he turns his attention back to you and tries to brush off that feeling in his gut.
But it doesn't work.
____________________________________
When Levi had been taken in under Kenny's (questionable) care, he had learned a lot of things from the man. How to hold a knife, how to break bones, make deals, the sex talk that Levi would like to never remember etc. Kenny had taught him plenty of life skills.
However, his methods had been crazy to say the least. More often then not, Levi found himself on the recieving end of sparring sessions where he was sent flying into trash cans and expected to get up and attack again. Kenny had been ruthless, but it had been for his own good. He wouldn't have survived that hell hole otherwise.
Levi recalled a specific moment in his early days of being with Kenny all too clearly. He hadn't fully understood why Kenny was making him train like this, and frankly, he had been exhausted being treated like a punching bag. In his anger, he had yelled at Kenny, half crying, about how his mother would never let him get hurt like this and how much he missed her.
Kenny had stared at him blankly for a minute once he had finished, and with the speed of lightning, the man had punched him in the stomach.
It had been extremely painful, taking his breath away. Kenny had then proceeded to beat him senseless--telling him what would happen if he wasn't strong enough with each blow.
He would always remember that pain for the rest of his life. Nothing had ever come close to it, or at least that's what he had thought.
But right now, sitting at his desk late at night, Levi feels like Kenny had punched him in the gut again. He was, yet again, experiencing a feeling he would never forget. It wasn't pain, but it's intensity was just the same.
Love.
..sittin in a tree, K I S S I N- AHHH
Section Commander, are you okay!? How did you fall down the stairs??
___________________________________
Levi and the rest of the soldiers had the night off, and while usually he was more inclined to simply stay away from their parties, he allowed his squad to drag him. It had, as expected, turned out to be a mistake. Everyone had been too drunk. Especially his squad.
When Olou began singing, Levi listened with mild amusement. His voice actually hadn't been too bad.
When Gunther and Eld began drunkenly trying to dance together to his singing, he might have actually smiled while drinking his beer.
When a very drunk Moblit collapsed next to him, muttering about that crazy four eyes, Levi decided to put his foot down and end the party. With Petra's help, he had carried Moblit to his room. The poor man had muttered the entire way there, mostly about Hange and Titans and needing therapy.
The punch in the gut, figuratively, had taken place on his way back to his room. Courtesy of Petra.
He hadn't noticed it, which had been stupid of him in hindsight. His ginger haired comrade had been harbouring feelings for him- feelings he knew he didn't return in the slightest. He had turned her down as gently as possible, not expecting her to loop her arms around his neck and beg him for one night together.
'... Please captain, just one night. If you still feel the same in the morning, I'll never bring this up again.'
Maybe in another universe, he would have said yes. After all, despite the age gap between them, Petra was rather beautiful. And any man would want to enjoy a night with her.
Alas, the moment she had looped her arms around him, his breath had suddenly left him, as though Kenny had punched him in the gut again.
He wasn't seeing his ginger haired cormade leaning into him, confessing her love to him. He was seeing you, your hair in that messy bun, that sweet smile, saying all those words. Practically begging him to make you his.
The moment Petra repeated her statement again, however, the vision fell apart and he pushed her away. After a firm rejection and some tears, he wandered back to his office, feeling dazed.
Sitting down in his chair, he had stared mindlessly, thinking about you.
You and your sweet words. Your obsession with reading. Those special discounts for him. That gentle smile. Even those absurd grumpy Levi cookies you baked.
Levi was a Capricorn--and capricorns were practical people. Rational. And in the interest of being practical, Levi decided to admit his feelings to himself. It would only drive him crazy if he didn't.
He was in love with you.
___________________________________
In his thirty something years of living, Levi had never been in an relationship. He had been too busy navigating the dark realms of the underground, trying to find enough food to eat. He hadn't cared for sex either, too traumatized by Kenny and his (shudder) talk. By the time he had gotten older and more stable, he had been so disgusted by the flithiness of the act, that he didn't even bother seeking out partners.
Which was why, here was, in love with a woman who probably deserved better then him, unable to do figure out what to do. Should he tell you? Or just keep it to himself? He wasn't sure if you felt the same, but the part of him that was in love with you knew he'd die happy if he held even the smallest part of your heart.
He was at a loss really. Maybe he could find a book about this crap.
Kenny's voice rung in his head for a few seconds, before Levi shut it off. He would rather die single then get a girl using Kenny's advice. He could do better then this. Maybe Erwin would have a book, there had to be somewhere the blonde bastard learned his charm from.
... You gotta be upfront kid. If you want her to be yours..
Levi wouldn't listen to Kenny. No. There was no way...
.. Don't beat around the bush brat, just tell her...
...he would do as Kenny had advised him to.
... Kill her if she doesn't like you back okay..
Okay that wasn't happening. Even if some of it sounded like it made sense, he still wouldn't do it like Kenny would.
No.
Freaking.
Way.
__________________________________
The next day, Levi silently wondered if his mentor was still alive. If he was, Levi resolved to stab him in a heartbeat. Because he just knew, that if Kenny could see him now, he would laugh his ass off.
After all, Levi had gotten into a relationship.
With a woman who baked cookies and drew his face on them for fun.
And it was all because he followed Kenny's advice.
Goddamit.
___________________________________
A/N: This ended up being longer then planned whew. My fingers were numb at some points, bc I wrote this in 3 straight hours. I hope y'all liked this! Am I the only who thinks grumpy Levi cookies would be amazing? I had to give Kenny a role in this, it was too tempting not to. Overall, I liked this one alot. I actually have a plan in mind involving this Levi and reader, which I'll hopefully write soon. Till then, take care everyone!
93 notes · View notes
Text
Books of 2021 - September TBR: Magical Readathon edition
(AKA. Lizzie has gone mad!)
Tumblr media
It's my last month of relative freedom before the last year of my masters begins in October, so I wanted to make the most of my time rather than just doss about on my phone for another month. As such I decided to do the Magical Readathon, hosted by G from Book Roast on Booktube, to make me read. However, because I'm a chronic overachiever, instead of picking out prompts I wanted to do I'm trying to read for all of them. Someone needs to restrain me at this point!
Anyway, here's the books:
The Novice Path Entrance: read a book with a map - Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson
Already a bad start for a readathon... I’m getting back into the mood for high/epic fantasy and I need to finish my rereads of both these books. I’m currently in the mood for Oathbringer, mainly because I’ve been catching up with Shardcast and finishing my Words of Radiance review. However, I REALLY want to reread Rhythm of War now we’re almost a year on from its release, but I need to reread Oathbringer first.
I do want to say I might give myself a pass and say if I’ve read half of Oathbirnger I’m counting it as a success because these books are MASSIVE and I’ve got a few other tomes on this list!
Ashtorn Tree: a book that keeps tempting you (or top of your TBR) - Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
This is where posting your tbr a week into the month gets awkward... I’ve already finished Peter Pan. However, I read this in one of my whims to read a book with Captain Hook in it, usually I veer off into a retelling but it was time to read the origninal book. I’d not read Peter Pan before, and I keep feeling the urge and surpressing it. (Should have kept doing it because the book really hasn’t aged well...!)
The Mist of Solitude: read a standalone - Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray*
Another bad choice... I’ve wanted to read this book for ages, I’d meant to start it earlier this year, and I’m buddy reading it with a friend. I need to read it now and it definitely fits this prompt. I do really love Vanity Fair as a story - both the film and miniseries are FABULOUS - so I’m excited to get into the book...it’s just 900 pages!
Much like Oathbringer I might give myself a pass if I read over half the book and say I’ve completed the prompt!
*I've left my physical copy at my Nan's like a prize idiot so I couldn't include it in the photo...
Ruin of the Skye: read a book featuring ghosts/hauted house, or other supernatural elements - The Turn of the Screw by Henry James
Oops another one I’ve already finished. This is the only ghost story I own that I haven’t read, it’s also short (thank God!) However, I really don’t like ghost stories... It showed in my reading experience.
Obsidian Falls: read a thriller or mystery - Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier
This is another genre I don’t read a lot from, I’ll read the occassional mystery through dark academia or Agatha Christie but I can’t even think of a thriller I’ve read recently! However, Jamaica Inn is my book club read for September so I’ve got to read it and the quotes on the book says it’s a classic thriller
Tower of Rumination: read a five star prediction - Malice by John Gwynne
I rarely predict 5 star reads, that last book I remember picking up thinking ‘this will be a 5 star read’ was The Way of Kings, which I read 5 years ago... However, I do have high hopes for this one? Honestly, this is the book I’m most likely to switch out for something else depending on my mood later in the month.
Orilium Academy Arc: a book with a school setting - Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger
I needed a book I know is going to be a quick read at this point, I also really want to revisit the Finishing School series because I read the whole series in about 4 days! I also want to have a small refresher before Carriger’s next book in the Delightfully Deadly series comes out next month, which is a sequel about one of the sidecharacters introduced in this book. It’s also a fun, fast paced, YA adventure about victorian girls at a school for spies - what more could you want?!
I’m tentatively throwing Measure for Measure by Shakespeare onto the pile because it’s left over from last month - but no promises because there’s already A LOT. I also needed to finish Emma at the start of the month, so that added on abotu 200 pages!
9 notes · View notes
handelplayssims · 9 months
Text
It seems that the fun thing about Winterfest for the Wallace family is that everyone is looking forward to something different. Santiago wants to deck the halls with bowls of holly. Ashlynn wants to eat that figgy pudding. Kiara wishes to wish you all a merry Winterfest, and enjoy the presents and well, Zayne wants presents and to see Father Winter. Right then! We’ll worry about each thing when each person wakes up! Annnnnd Ashlynn is in an awful mood. Welp. Jog around the block Ashlynn.
Hmm. Normally I would get a Winterfest tree if someone’s in the Festive Spirit mood but the person who has that as a beloved tradition is Kiara. And Santiago is especially not looking forward to the festive cheer. I think I’ll just get a pile of presents and wait. ...annnnd it’s Power Conservation Day. Man all of that food stocked up in the fridge is going to go bad. Also, how are we supposed to do Winterfest dinner if we don’t have power!? Ho boy. Tense Zayne and angry Ashlynn. Also Santiago can’t continue his whim of writing for his job if the power is out. Man! Bad times all around. And now I’m just waiting for Santiago to get his inspired moodlet before...would gyms even be open on Winterfest? I don’t think so. Anyway, I suddenly remembered a way to gain writing skill. Simply journal! He’s doing that while Ashlynn...was going to calm down at the mirror but is instead now just fine so since her first whim is to have a kid with Santiago, (nope!) we’re going to have her get in a flirty moodlet.
...Kiara, why are you in a picky eater phase? Whhhhy? That’s the worst trait of the childhood phases to get rid of. Anyway, time to do what I thought of awhile back! Invite over Alex Feng, her best teen friend, and give a present! One of her paintings will do! And thus does the giving gifts tradition is fullfilled. Oh and I remembered to have Zayne ask about a trait of Alex’s, since they’re friends as well. Outgoing. Hmm. My last mark on traits upon ageing up is also something social. I more think he’s an insider-sort of person than an outgoing one. More wants to form groups! In particular, a club for genius sims! That’s an idea to keep in mind for him. So many of those running around anyway.
Santiago wanted to make a 100 simoleans and then his holiday day off of pay kicked in. Ah well! Zayne’s back to tense, again, thanks to Santiago being around when he wants to play chess. ...you know what might be a better idea? Picking up logic books for him to read. It might be not as good as playing chess for skilling but at least it works and it’ll keep him away from his father. Kiara painted a rather large painting of Alex. I’m thinking of using it for décor for his club. And Santiago...wishes to complete his work task. Four interviews, coming up. First up, Jesminder Bheeda. Found out she’s a hothead so I’m talking up Ashlynn to her. Next up a child...which evidently you can’t interview. Fair enough!
It’s 8PM now and that’s around when Father Winter shows up! It’ll be time for presents! Ah, and Kiara got the emotionally mindful moodlet from all of the painting she did. It’s a Snowy Escape feature and the one that runs into my gameplay the most often. While you get a choice, I usually use a random thing picker to decide the emotion because that feels more fun to me. ...it’s ingenuity, the inspired moodlet. Dang. It actually meshes well with her other emotions. Anyway, we got a huge pile of presents that needs opening! The results of our haul are- a knife block set for Santiago. A duffel o’ cash for Ashlynn. A fancier child’s violin for Zayne. Finally, a motion gaming mat for Kiara. Everything except for the violin will be sold! And now we can finally have our grand dinner for the family. What Ashlynn had been waiting for so long! Oooh, and I can do it as a family unit! ...of course Kiara is going to the bathroom countertops. And Santigao. Welp. We got surrounded by trash somehow, a bit because the oven needed repairs and such but dinner was had. And now I remember to have Kiara and Zayne take a holiday for tomorrow. Winter break, after all! Winterfest is finished and all had a fantastic holiday! ...expecting that Zayne is still grudging against his father. And with one more masterpiece for Kiara painted, we end the night.
Neighborhood Watch!
Malcom Landgraab in the Landgraab household has died. Malcmom tried fixing the toilet and it randomly burst into flames.
JESUS! Neighborhood Watch is going out for blood! Nancy is dead too so uh...is Rosa Lend still alive? She was a crafted Sim I made that married Nancy and was in their household. ...yep! It’s just Rosa now! Might as well re-write the biography of the household while I’m here. By the by, she does have a million simoleans as a lotto winner. So we’ll see if we actually get to continue with her...
0 notes
buck-nialled · 4 years
Note
Hi! Can you write a Niall Imagine:) where Niall is dealing with you his OCD life and he gets frustrated cause some people he knows doesn’t understand what’s its like to have OCD.An Y/n comforts Niall cause she understands him💘🥺Y/n shows to Niall that no matter what Niall’s condition is, she will always be there for him🥺And Niall will be like : 🥺I don’t deserve you🥺 fluffy and cute tbh🥺💖 Thank you!💖🦋
NOTE: leaving a WARNING here, as this imagine discusses OCD (Obsessive-compulsive disorder) AND COMPULSIVE TENDENCIES/ANXIETY and might make some readers uncomfortable. Please read at your own risk.
Tumblr media
A Real Hit - N. Horan Imagine
“Niall, I saw you lock the car before we came in, I’m pos—”
“Please, can we just go double-check it?” Niall’s pleading pools cast up to meet your eyes. After conceding with a nod, you and Niall abandon the booth inside of the restaurant which you had just taken a seat in moments prior. Neither of you had been waited on yet, so now was the best opportunity to check that Niall had indeed, locked his vehicle.
“We will be only a minute sir; you do not need to leave.” The manager desperately informs, afraid that a customer of such high status would besmirch their name upon exiting. Niall’s hasty footsteps come to a quick halt as he pivots to face the man. His thumb begins frantically tapping the back of your hand while he begins to speak.
“Huh?” He pipes up. “Oh, no you are all fine. I just need to check something—ch-check something.” Niall repeats, voice becoming firmer towards the end. The manager spares a nod and understanding smile before Niall was bustling out of the building once more with your concerning form in tow. The parking lot was a small walk, yet it left Niall panting as he arrived at his car he was careful to park further away from all of the others. Tentatively, his hand reached forward to take the door handle in his grasp and gently pulled. The door did not budge.
Meaning Niall did lock his car, as you mentioned to him before.
“Oh,” he murmurs in surprise, turning to look at you. “Guess I did lock it.” He chuckles. The corners of your lips quirk up in a trying smile, but this was not something you were going to brush off. As far as Niall knew, this was the first time you had caught him doing this.
But it wasn’t. A few weeks prior, you decided to visit your boyfriend at the studio with Nando’s sitting in your passenger’s seat, the smell of chicken invading your car and nostrils. Amidst searching for a spot to park, you caught Niall’s figure through your windshield, running towards his car. His violent, zippy steps left you puzzled, as he was always in an easy-going mood whenever you were present. You were left even more befuddled when he tugged against the handle of the driver's side door and allowed his chest to heave as he let out a large sigh. You figured he must have left something in the car or was in a rush to leave, until he spun around to enter the building in a drastically slower pace, car keys shimmering in his hand’s clutch.
You eyed those same keys as he fidgeted with them with his free hand. “I’m sorry ‘bout that.” He murmurs, keeping the light-hearted tone.
“That’s okay. Better safe than sorry, right?” He smiles at your reply and sends a nod before déjà vu struck you on your casual stroll back into the restaurant. The conversation was hard to focus on throughout dinner because your thoughts kept becoming swamped by Niall’s recent increase of doubts and anxiety. By this point, the car woes were the most prominent.
Later that night, however, you found Niall doing the same thing with the lock on his front door. Every time he excused himself from your side on the couch (to retrieve food, use the restroom, etc.) he also used as an opportunity to re-lock the door, put his eye against the peephole, and stare at his security pad a few seconds longer than normal. It had you crossing your legs and folding your arms over your chest in discomfort the fourth time he did it.
“Are you expecting anybody?” You finally squeak. He whirls away from the entryway and retreats to your awaiting figure.
Eyebrows raised; he hums, “no,” and is back by your side in an instant. “Are you okay?” He stares deep into your eyes as if he would find a juxtaposition to your reply that you were doing fine. He was also checking up on you a lot more than usual and had lost all subtlety in doing it, to the point where you would stare at yourself in any reflective surface you would come across and ask the same thing. You appeared the same as you always did, though.
Another week dragged on and the next time you visited Niall at the studio, he was alone. None of his writers, mixers, or producers were found in the small room with him when you dropped by to see him on your work break. Though you wish his team was there, to console your racing thoughts as to why there were nearly six empty bottles of beer and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s whiskey nearly gone on the table Niall was sat beside. His notebook was sat across his lap, guitar on its stand nearby as he kept scribbling and crossing out various words on the pages, only to rewrite them.
“Hey,” you greet quietly as to not startle him in his silence. “Is it just you in here?”
“Yeah. Thought coming in and writing alone would help. Too many…too many voices lately, ya know?” His hands—adorned with a few rings he had purchased on a whim one day—flew up to swirl and gesticulate around his cranium. You nod, inviting yourself further into the room to take a seat beside him on the couch and lay a comforting hand on one of his upper arms.
“I know.” You reply, looking into his eyes with your mind screaming to just let himself fall apart into your arms already. Niall knew—he knew very well—that you would always be there to pick him up and aid him when it all becomes too much for him to handle. But for some unknown reason, it was becoming particularly difficult to do so now. “I love you…you know, that right?”
Niall’s breathing becomes shaky as he bobs his head up and down. “I know, I-I love you…I love you too, I love…” His voice drops low and wavers. “I don’t deserve you.” It finally breaks into a sob as he takes your hand laid on his bicep into both of his shaky hands and brings it up against his tearful eyes. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N.” He repeats, sniffling against your warm hand. Your mouth was agape for a few moments as you sat, drinking in the sight of the man you loved crumbling right before you. This was not where you imagined the conversation would go.
“Niall,” you begin, allowing your free hand to tangle itself in his mess of dark hair. You brushed the flat locks away from his forehead, damp with perspiration before he buried his head into your shoulder. “That’s not true. Don’t think so little of yourself.” You shake your head back and forth in refusal at his words.
“But it is true! I’ve just been…I’ve been a mess lately. I can’t think straight, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Everybody keeps acting like I’m insane because I keep playing the same fuckin’ note ten times over or keep checking the damn car’s locked. I’m losing my mind and you’re here…you don’t say a word. Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I was waiting for you to say something.” You answer. Silence follows before you request Niall to look at you. Upon lifting his head, you find his eyes bloodshot and see his leg bouncing from the corner of your eye. “Niall, I love you and all your little tics. I know it’s stressful to deal with sometimes but I’m not going to treat you any different or let it drive me away.” Your hand comes out to rest gently on his jittery leg but stays light in its pressure to let his keep bouncing it. “It hurts to see you like this, but this is how you cope. I’m not going to stop it unless it reaches a certain point…like this.” You say, reaching around him to grab the near-empty bottle of whiskey.
“That was to try and get me to calm down,” Niall murmurs, letting out a sniffle. “Clearly it didn’t do much.”
“Obviously not, your body’s practically built to withstand it by this point.” You retort through a small laugh. “Niall, I’m not leaving you. I’m going to be with you through everything, even the bad stuff, okay?” Niall nods, sending you a grateful smile. You spare a cursory glance down to his lap, where the journal was still balancing. Carefully, your hand plucks it up and you observe all of the stress-induced scribbles and lines of random words cloaking the pages. Niall bites his lip as he catches you reading his blurred ideas with an approving smile. His fingers begin reaching to play with the rings embracing his knuckles until your voice has his eyes peeking up at you again.
“Now…why don’t you play me this song you’ve been working so hard on? Looks like it could be a real hit.”
207 notes · View notes
cheeriecherry · 4 years
Note
Can you write an hc where bakugou owns a coffee shop and the reader is like a daily costumer there, the rest is up to you! Also your writing is the best, ily mwa 😚
This is my first ever headcanon request pls be gentle TvT
----
-Okay so you probably hear about the coffee shop from a friend
-The place is notorious for its good brews, but also for its...enthusiastic owner.
-You don’t fully believe your friend’s story when they tell you about the guy who yells and shouts and borderline scares customers but also who makes the best coffee on this side of the city.
-So you decide to check it out for yourself! You find yourself in the area one afternoon and figure what better time than today, when it’s dreary outside and a little bit chilly? A warm drink might cheer you up.
-It’s not very busy when you walk in, since most of the lunch crowd has already passed, but it’s definitely quieter than you thought it would be. There are two or three patrons sitting at the tables, either reading or doing schoolwork, and they all seem to be about your age.
-You’re startled when a gruff voice calls out to you, and your attention snaps to the coffee bar, where a spiky-haired blond man stands, looking impatient.
- “What do you want?” he asks bluntly, and it takes you a second to figure out he’s asking you what you want to drink, and not what are you doing in here.
-You fumble for a second, face heating up under his scrutiny, but eventually decide on a simple dark roast with foam on top. He narrows his eyes a bit, but gets to making your drink.
- “I would’ve pegged you as a ‘fancy caramel frappucino with oat milk and vegan whipped cream’ kind of person,” he says, while he waits for your coffee to brew. In the corner of your eye, you see all three of the patrons shift in their seats.
-”Well, I mean,” you stutter, “I wouldn’t say no to that. But you’ve gotta be in the right mood. Today’s more of a dark roast day.”
-He considers you for a second, gaze intense, but he doesn’t say anything else. When your coffee is brewed, he pours it into a travel cup and fixes it the way you’d requested, and sets it in front of you.
-You pay for your drink and offer him your quiet thanks, dropping a couple dollars in the tip jar on the counter, and when you walk out of the building, you miss the way his expression softens ever so slightly.
----
-Your friends don’t believe you when you tell them about your calm interaction with the supposedly hot-headed owner of the shop. They tell you there hasn’t been a time when they haven’t heard him yelling.
- “Maybe you’re special,” one of them suggests, and you’re quick to get embarrassed and swat at them.
- “Not likely!” you say, “I probably just caught him on a good day.”
-Still, you make a point to drop in at the cafe again the next day, around the same time. It’s a little busier than your previous visit, with the end of the lunch rush still lingering around.
-Again, the blond seems to be the only person behind the counter, working diligently and effectively to prepare people’s orders. He’s not bad looking, you decide, not in the slightest, and you’ll be the first to admit that there’s something mesmerizing about the way he works.
- “Hey, space cadet.” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you glance at him with warm cheeks. “What do you want?”
-The line in front of you has dissipated, and you realize you’ve been standing in the same spot, staring, for several minutes. It’s a little embarrassing, but you hope he’ll just chalk it up to you having a off day.
- “Um,” you say, taking a glance outside, “I’ll have a chocolate latte. With an extra pump of espresso.”
- He narrows his eyes at you again before beginning to make your drink. You hadn’t seen him interact with many other people, but you were fairly certain he didn’t scrutinize their orders like he did with yours. Though you noticed he was undeniably calmer while he was making your drinks.
-Whether that had anything to do with you, you didn’t know.
-He sets your drink in front of you a few moments later, and you pay, leaving him with a tip and a quiet thank you.
-You once again miss the way his gaze trails after you as you walk out.
----
-Before long, you find the coffee shop becoming part of your daily routine. You wake up later than most people, get a good portion of work done from home, then take a late lunch, which is usually when you’d stop in to get a drink.
-Over the weeks, you learn a little bit about your favourite barista. You’re shy around him for the first little while, barely mustering the voice to order your drink, but as you grow more accustomed to the routine you get a little bolder.
-You learn his name is Katsuki, but most people just call him Bakugou. You learn that he’s owned the business for about four years, having started it on a whim when his roommate suggested it. You also learn that he’s got a roommate, and that he’s apparently ‘the most annoying person and the physical embodiment of sunshine’ but also his best friend.
-He asks you a few questions in return, your name, what kind of work you do, simple things that aren’t invasive or impolite but that keep conversation going. Your friendship is still budding, but it’s growing steadily. He calls you out when you’re later than usual, and sometimes tries to guess what kind of drink you want, based on the weather (he gets it right about 50% of the time).
----
-About two months into your daily visits, you have a bad day.
-And by bad day, you mean a Bad Day. The kind of day that has you stressed to hell and back, jittering in your own skin, and so restless you can barely get anything done. It makes you want to cry out of frustration. either that, or fully quit your job.
-As such, you’re so busy you don’t get to the coffee shop until late in the day, close to closing. Sure, you couldv’e skipped out on your warm drink for the day, but you didn’t want give up on your favourite parts of your routine just because you’re stressed.
-It’s almost dark out when you walk into the cafe, and Bakugou looks up from the counter when the bell above the door rings. His face softens slightly when he sees it’s just you, but a frown appears when he realizes what kind of state you’re in.
- “Long day?” he asks, leaning against the counter.
- “Something like that,” you sigh. “I need something with so much caffeine, I won’t sleep for six more hours.”
-He narrows his eyes at you and stares at you intensely, instead of getting started on your drink, and you stand there awkwardly while he silently judges you.
- “I think I’m gonna have to deny you on that one,” he finally says, and goes back to wiping the counter down.
-Your eyebrows raise in surprise, and you’re only a little taken aback. “Why?” you ask, “Are you out of beans or something?”
- “No,” he says, “But you look like shit. Maybe I’m going soft, but I think what you need is some sleep. That, or a new job.”
-You’d be more prone to argue if he wasn’t right. You sigh and droop, letting your exhaustion show clearly. “I’ll just have a chamomile lavender tea, then.”
-He gets to work quickly, and you lean against the counter to watch him. You’re both quiet, and it sits a little oddly with you. Though it hasn’t been that long of a time you’ve known him, you’ve gotten used to the idle conversation you share on a daily basis. You never see him talk with other customers like that, and maybe you’re being a little too hopeful, but you wonder if maybe he...feels something for you.
- “Damn, you really are out of it today.”
-You startle out of your thoughts, and your face feels like fire when you tune in on Bakugou’s face. He’s leant on the counter directly across from you, looking you directly in the eyes from about four inches away, two steaming mugs in between you.
- You skitter back a foot or two, apologizing profusely.
- “It’s fine,” he grumbles, taking one of the mugs in hand. “Come sit for a few minutes, though. I don’t feel right sending you out into the darkness when you’re this fucking oblivious.”
-You grab your own cup and hide a smile behind a sip, sighing when you sit down at one of the small round tables.
- “I think this is the first time I’ve sat down all day,” you tell him, when he takes a seat across from you. “Figuratively, of course. I work at a desk, so I’m technically always sitting.”
- The two of your nurse your drinks for nearly half an hour, talking about whatever you feel like, whatever comes to mind. You tell him about the project you’re working on, some shitshow that your boss demanded you take part in, despite it being out of your field of experience.
- “If I don’t do it well, I’ll literally lose my job. And I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, but when I ask people, they’re also clueless! The only person who has any kind of experience with stuff like this is my boss, and she’s refusing to take part in it. ‘Needs her seasonal vacations’ she says.” You grumble a little into your cup. “If I could pick one person to punch really hard...”
-A quiet laugh shakes you out of your reverie, and you glare at Bakugou halfheartedly. “It’s not funny,” you tell him, but he only laughs a little louder.
- “It is, though,” he replies. “You’re so different than what I expected.”
-You tilt your head to the side. “What do you mean?”
-You don’t miss the way his cheeks flush slightly, but you don’t say anything about it.
- “I just mean. Most of the pretty girls who come in here are either so vapid it’s painful, or they’re just here to twirl their hair and flirt with me. It’s fucking annoying.”
- You chastise him a little, telling him that not everyone is the same, to which he replies that he knows that and that It’s just the experience he has with coffee shop girls.
- “You think I’m different, though?” you wonder, setting your empty mug down.
-He averts his gaze ever so slightly, flush still evident on his cheeks. “And pretty.”
- A feeling of boldness consumes you, and you stand from your chair, walking around the small table to come to a stop in from of him. He stays seated, looking up at you and watching you carefully. 
- “I think you’re pretty, too,” you tell him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “and thank you for the tea.”
- His face resembles a tomato when you pull back, and by the time he snaps back into reality you’re already out the door. However, on a napkin on the table, you’ve left your name and phone number for him, and the sweet message of Let’s go out some time!
142 notes · View notes
jaxsteamblog · 3 years
Text
Her Royal Majesty Our Queen
Click here to read the entire fic on AO3
During the two day trip to the Foggy Swamp, Katara had to disconnect from her role as Thuy’s Master and step back into her work as Queen. This visit had nothing to do with the Avatar as she needed to meet with the Matriarch of the Swamp Tribe, and Thuy was simply going home. Toph, as her current instructor, was always going to come along but was herself interested in seeing the swamp. 
For someone who invented metalbending, Toph was certainly very interested in mud. 
The layover was, amusingly, in Haru’s hometown. With their arrival publicly announced, Haru’s parents sent a short letter to her hotel room, but there wasn’t any attempt to meet. Katara was only there for the night, and Haru was happily married in Republic City. 
Still, it was nice to be thought of.
On the flight the next day, Thuy became more animated and even Mister Whiskers was showing more signs of life. The amphibious creature clearly missed her damp home. 
“Did you hear that, Sugar Queen?” Toph asked loudly, making Katara turn from her laptop. “Thuy says they eat bugs.”
Katara blinked and shut her laptop slowly.
“And?” She asked.
“Doesn’t that weird you out?” Toph questioned.
“No?” Katara put a hand on top of her computer. “Some of us didn’t live in a manor for the entirety of the war.” 
“Are you saying I’m soft?” Toph demanded, not sounding angry but leaning over the arm of her seat menacingly.
“Oh Toph, you’re as dense as a rock.” Katara replied sweetly. 
Toph cackled, slapping the seat arm and sitting back. 
“See Wet Wipe, you have to give as good as you get. Otherwise people will walk all over you.” She said to Thuy.
“I just don’t think it’s nice.” Thuy huffed, picking up her squirming catgator. Mister Whiskers had taken to chewing on the empty seats in front of them. 
Katara did not like how many sharp teeth were in that wide mouth. 
“Avatars don’t get anywhere by being nice.” Toph countered.
“Don’t I know it.” Thuy muttered. 
Due to the unpredictable nature of the swamp, the plane landed at a small, private airfield next to the looming entity of the banyan grove. 
As they disembarked, figures came out from the treeline and Thuy ran to meet them, Mister Whiskers loping cartoonishly after her. 
One figure Katara recognized as the matriarch. Dong-Lee broke away from the group and walked leisurely toward Katara as she and Toph made their way to the trees.
“Welcome, our queen.” Dong-Lee said. A chorus of shouts raised from the group behind her and Katara felt her face start to warm.
“Please, Matriarch, Katara is perfectly fine.” She said, waving the comment away. 
“You are bringing the other tribes back to our family, we are proud to call you our queen.” Dong-Lee replied.
Katara’s mouth twitched at the comment, but she ignored it. 
“I appreciate the welcome, Matriarch.” She said. 
“Is the Fire Lord still onboard?” Dong-Lee asked.
“Zuko?” Katara frowned in confusion. “He’s in Caldera.”
“He didn’t come?”
Dong-Lee sounded surprised and Katara did blush then.
“We’re not married yet, I wasn’t aware you were expecting him.” She explained. 
“I apologize, Thuy had told me you were handfasted already.” Dong-Lee said.
“They are!” Thuy shouted indignantly. “They announced their coupling ages ago and then she accepted his pledge on my birthday!” 
“That doesn’t mean we’re married!” Katara snapped anxiously.
“Sure it does.” Thuy said, sounding calm and unconcerned as she walked back over. “A wedding doesn’t make you married, a pledge does.”
“That’s not how it works in other places.” Katara said and sighed.
“That is how it works here, though.” Thuy said. “And we are your people too.” 
Katara sighed again and rubbed her face.
“I’m sorry, Matriarch, Zuko isn’t coming.” She said.
“Like dragon spit he isn’t.” Thuy said. She pulled out her cellphone and Katara lunged. Thuy avoided her easily, pushing herself away with her bending. 
“Zuko, Auntie said you’re not coming to the swamp even though I promised everyone.” Thuy started, continuing to move away as Katara made a strangled sound in exasperation. 
“So,” Toph interjected as she strolled over. “I was told there were bugs?”
By dinner, Zuko was already in Republic City making further travel plans. At Thuy’s invitation, Sokka and Suki decided to tag along and the three of them would be in the swamp by the next evening. 
Having her script so completely disrupted, Katara sulked and grumbled at her seat. 
Toph had gone hunting with some of the tribe members, returning completely drenched in swamp mud but clutching the still writhing bodies of leopard eels. Apparently having an Earthbender made it much easier to catch the fish by hand, and an unsettling sack proved it. 
The catch was gutted and cleaned at the docks, with Mister Whiskers getting her fill of offal. None of that bothered Katara, save for the blood that spilled onto their woven mats. 
There hadn’t been much in the way of technological advancement in the swamp. Whatever spiritual energy shielded Thuy’s home, it was complete and fickle. The tribe used peat and water to make steam engine generators, but they didn’t power much outside of the few telephones, radios, computers, and satellite for reception. And that was certainly spotty, often requiring a shaman or Thuy herself to go into the swamp and yell about it. 
Torches, bug nets, and rickety walkways were sprinkled over massive banyan roots and linked the various thatched huts or raised pavilions. Family groups lived in nodes and each node could communicate with the others via the root system and a shaman. So the technology they did have only came, Katara found, after Thuy was identified as the Avatar and her family knew she would need it. 
Other things, like books, weapons, and clothing, trickled in at random times when an outsider was allowed access to the interior. 
The swamp had protected Thuy and provided her with everything she needed. 
It reminded Katara very much of the South Pole.
Which oddly did not help her mood.
“Is her royal majesty being snooty?” Toph asked, sitting down hard next to Katara.
“No. I’m just mad I didn’t know they expected Zuko to be here.” She replied.
“I’m surprised too, to be honest.” Toph said, putting her hands down behind her and reclining. “What do they want with the Fire Lord?” 
“That’s a good question.” Katara replied. 
The answer came after dinner had been cleared away. 
A shaman, adorned with bright feathers and a carved wooden mask, stepped out onto the wide dock. Everyone quieted and turned; Katara looked expectantly at Thuy, but she was already focused on the shaman.
“We welcome the return of our kin, Thuy.” The shaman said and clapping filled the heavy air. Katara clapped slowly, still unsure of what was happening. 
“Before we understood our world, we told stories to explain what we saw. The Avatar represented all of our questions; where did we come from? Why do we have Benders? Why are there four elements? And how are we to live with the spirits?
“The ancient stories tell us that the sun and the moon fought over the ocean. That one day, when the moon triumphed, the sun fell into the ocean and from it’s boiling, the lands were made. The bubbles made the air we breathe and pushed the sun back into the sky. So the elements were made, but as they came from strife, only one would ever inhabit a human at a time.
“We know of space now, of gravity, but we also still live among the spirits. We see how they alter the world around us, how they bestow gifts, and how they take things away at a whim.
“After the great and terrible war, the rest of the world is turning away from the spirits. It is why the Avatar has been born here, in this sacred grove, to remind us of what we are all still connected to.” The shaman paused but no one spoke or made a noise. 
“The rest of the world is being reminded. Our spirits, not our adopted family of the Great Banyan Tree, but our spiritual parents Tui and La, have reconnected to our human world. The honorable princess Yue has ascended to the sky as the handmaiden of the moon. And here sits our awe-some protector, the Matriarch of All Waters, our queen!” The shaman continued and a roar went up around Katara. 
Toph, unable to find a snarky comment, only sat up straight. A shiver ran through Katara and she gripped uselessly at the mat under her. 
“The sun has fallen again into the ocean. We must prepare for what is to come.” The shaman said, raising his hands to quiet the people. 
“Tomorrow, the queen and her husband will go out into the swamp. When they return, we will abide by whatever message they bring.” The shaman said and then turned his carved mask toward Katara.
“Long live La!” He called and the shout was quickly picked up by the others.
“Looks like someone has a new, terrible destiny.” Toph whispered.
“Alright Huu, get down and let the fiddlers start!” Someone yelled and laughter replaced the solemn calling. 
The energy immediately shifted and Katara let out a breath, slumping onto the low table. 
“I am so sick of destiny.” She muttered.
That night, Katara sat awkwardly tucked in a knot of a banyan tree. She had to climb higher than she liked to get a decent signal on her phone.
“Divination at dinner?” Zuko asked. 
“It’s starting to feel like we never had a choice not to be together.” Katara grumbled.
“And that’s a bad thing?” He questioned haltingly.
“It makes it seem like it doesn’t matter what kind of person I am if you were fated to love me anyway.” 
“I don’t know. Even if people say we were meant to be together, we still had to be the people we are to make that happen. And I do love you because of who you are.”
“But I don’t want to be this. Whatever this person is that everyone is making me out to be.”
“And what’s that?”
“Liu called me Oma, everyone here thinks I’m La, and Rohan is trying to make me think I’m the embodiment of yin.”
“What do you want to be?”
“Me! I just want to be me. And your wife.” Katara added, lowering her voice and wrapping her free arm over her chest. “I just want to be me with you.” 
“The quiet, unassuming wife of the Fire Lord?” Zuko asked and she snorted. 
“I could never just be a wife.” She said dryly.
“Which is why I wanted to ask you…” Zuko started and Katara sat up.
“What now?” She asked.
“I want you to become the Fire Lady.” He said.
That stilled her and Katara stared off into the darkness. 
“You still there?” Zuko asked cautiously.
“Yeah, no, I’m still here.” Katara said. “Just, thinking.”
“I know it’s a big ask.”
“That’s two crowns, Zuko.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my queen too. You will be queen to my people. Our people.” 
Katara went quiet again, and Zuko waited. 
“You want children.” She said finally.
“Yes.” He was quick and honest. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She said, just as honestly.
“I never wanted them before. But with you?” Zuko’s voice drifted and Katara felt her pulse quicken.
“If they’re really saying I’m the sun falling into the ocean-”
“Zuko.”
“-then maybe what they mean is how many little islands I can-”
“Zuko!”
“The allegory is right there Katara.” 
Katara laughed and her anxiety left her. 
“I’ll think about it.” She said finally.
“That’s all that I ask.” He replied.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said.
“I am so excited for our field trip, you have no idea.” Zuko joked and Katara laughed again.
It was certainly enough to think about for one night.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53
17 notes · View notes