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#I cut my hair at an awkward angle and now it looks like I have a bald patch lol
yurinaa-world · 3 months
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hello! can u do reader who likes to rest on characters lap? like whenever reader couldn't sleep but feel tired, they goes to character's lap while they're doing smth and reader sleeps :3 any characters but i prefer jing yuan n blade pls :D (its okay if u don't want to write this, i don't wanna pressure u haha and sorry for my bad english :'d i love ur works btw!!)
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Characters: Blade and Jing Yuan x Gender-neutral Reader
Synopsis: laying in their lap while they're doing things
Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,
Notes: IM SO SORRY I messed this up so hard, I wrote then I looked at the request, and I mentally slapped myself, If you didn't like this I would be fine rewriting it!
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𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒
This guy literally doesn’t do anything all day, just has his eyes closed and just rests (Warning: I love making reader a very little dramatic when it comes to Blade)
Dead silence; he did not say anything to you once you lay on his lap with a smile on your lips. You couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward. He’s always been quiet, but right now, you're starting to feel the silence stabbing you from every angle.
"What aren't you going to say?" you asked, opening one of your eyes to stare at him from below. "Want attention that badly?" He gave you an amused look, looking down on you as if you were some kind of little child. "Well, there's no fun if I just lay here," you pouted, looking at the ceiling as well as at him, his fingers going through your hair. He's figured out what you want from him—attention, of course—yet he just does what you want him to do, or you'll complain about it all day.
So instead, he stays silent and plays with your hair, but his hand moves to your face, creasing your lips with his calloused fingers. "You're such a pain," he whispers, leaning down to kiss you and then moving away before saying, "Yes, yes, you kiss someone you find annoying." You rolled your eyes, closed your eyes again, and sighed loudly.
"I know, bladie, you can't keep yours off; no man can!" You laugh, obviously joking.
What a personality you have.
𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃
“How needy, hmm? What a pleasure it was to spend time with you. a pity I have work to do." Jing Yuan teased while you lay in his lap, watching him from above: reading his boring yet important paper, “You offered and I took it; you know it’s unkind to decline someone." You responded by tracing shapes on the thigh you’re lying on.
"If you don’t want me, then I'll" you cut off before you could even finish your sentence. “No need; you’ve already come, so you're going to stay like this." He said before turning the page of his paper, "I was just joking." He said while ruffling through your hair, making you frown a little, that he messed with your hair.
You both lay in silence. You broke first, asking, “When do you think your paperwork is going to be finished?" He chuckled at your comment.
"A couple of hours, it seems."
“Hurry it up, and I’ll give you a gift."
You stated matter of factly crossing your arms in front of your chest, “What kind of gift?” He asked curiously, looking down at you, and you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a surprise. Do it and find out,” he chuckled at your words.
"Alright, I'll take your word, but this better be a good gift since I'm working so hard for you, hmm, don’t you think?"
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot
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stareaterau · 7 months
Text
Prologue
Next episode →
Index
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---
I found this old recording from about 2 years and a half ago
I feel like it might be important to the story to come.
CW: mild description of violence towards end
Read below↓
or AO3
The recording opened with the shot of a rainy, empty street at night. The view is from the perspective of The Coward, you can't see their features. They held a cloak over their head and shoulders, whilst stumbling unsteadily on feet like long, dark, bird-like claws. The clank of soft metal tapped on the hard damp ground.
They stopped at an alley and pushed themselves up against a vending machine, breathing heavily. Their clothes were torn and fraying. The red jumper they were wearing seemed to have a long tear down one side, and the sleeve had instead been tied at the shoulder, exposing a dark metal limb with long talons, just like their feet.
They sat for a moment, mumbling incoherently to themselves.
There was a noise from down the alleyway and The Coward shrank against the wall, holding their breath, blending into the shadows.
???: Hey! I saw you running down here.
A tall figure rounded the corner. They were wearing a uniform, a blue jacket that had to be a size too small for them, with the sleeves rolled up and the collar popped.
They had a holster around their shoulder, that held a gun far too big and awkward for their frame, that they kept having to adjust back onto their shoulder.
The dim light of the vending machine illuminated their face. They had short brown hair with two long, braided strands, which were tied up at the back of their head, loose from running.
Their eyes were a soft green, and at angles reflected a bright blue. They were very unique and kind eyes.
[Profile found and documented. Let's call him The Hero.]
He turned down the alleyway and looked around cautiously.
The Hero: Oh… they turned into a vending machine?
The Coward, clearly moments away from being spotted, stepped forward.
The Coward: Rude.
The Hero: AHHH OH OH OH- oh you're still a person!
The Coward: And what are you? A jester?
The Hero: What? No, I'm a vindicator.
He pulled at the front of his jacket, showing off his newly stitched ‘V’ patch.
The Coward: Yeah, I can clearly see that, do they have a clown rank now?
The Hero: No? Why would they-
The Hero: Oh- you’re messing with me.
The Coward giggled, but they stopped quickly, as The Hero raised his gun, quietening them.
The Hero (trying to be intimidating): You’re messing with me, when I have a gun to your head?
The Coward scoffed.
The Coward: I'm hardly worried about being shot intentionally, you’re not even holding it right.
There was a clank, a shuffle, as The Hero looked at the gun and how he held it.
He shrugged, lowering the gun.
The Hero: ... I'm better with a bow.
The Coward: You gonna arrest me or what? Done flexing your superiority?
The Hero: How do you know I was gonna arrest you? Can't we just be having a conversation?
The Coward: You followed me down an alley, I know how people act when there's a hit on me.
The Hero: I wouldn't call it a hit. More like-... you’re a person of interest.
The Coward (sarcastically): Oh, yeah.
The Hero: Yeah! Well, I think this is you.
The Hero pulled up a holographic screen and held it up to The Coward, who rolled their eyes.
The screen was flipped for them, but they could clearly make out a portrait of a young man with dirty blonde hair and muted green feathers on their face. They had a smirk and a cut lip in the mugshot.
The Coward coughed a laugh at the sight of it, as The Hero looked at them and raised a brow.
The Coward: They don't even have my name, come on. I'm sooo being hunted ‘dead or alive’, without the alive.
The Hero: I wouldn't- I'm not going to kill you-
The Hero scanned over the information, confused.
The Coward: You’re new?
The Hero: I started a week ago.
The Coward: Think of yourself as a Hero, then?
The Hero didn’t say anything, just looked confused.
The Coward: Well okay Hero, why don't you try and catch me?
The Hero: Ah well-
The Coward pushed him and made a run for it down the alleyway.
The Hero: Hey hey wait-
He chased after them.
The Hero: That's a dirty move.
The Coward: Oh yeah? Well, you’re not gonna like this-
The Coward pushed over a smaller vending machine, smashing it on the ground, small food bars scattering across the floor.
The Hero: That's wasteful!
The Coward laughed.
The Hero laughed too, jumping over the vending machine with ease.
The Hero: If that's how you’re gonna play-
There was a noise. A shot fired.
The Coward reflexively put their arms over their head, but the shot didn’t hit them. Instead, it pinged off a wall, errupting into a huge, almost firework level explosion, making The Coward stop abruptly to avoid running into it.
The Coward (quietly): Whoa.
The Hero: Cool, right?
The Coward: No, I was just amazed with your ability to miss me.
The Hero: Hey! No fair, I was intentionally missing you!
The Coward, now that the embers had faded, continued to run down the street, yelling back quips.
The Coward: So you are a jester then, if they gave you fireworks.
The Hero (yelling back): They didn't give me fireworks, I was allowed to choose any gun.
The Coward: And you chose a sparkler?
The Hero: I chose the biggest gun I was allowed, actually!
The Coward (laughing): And how's that working out for you?
The Hero: I look cool, don't I?
The Coward: Sure.
They slipped on the wet ground, but flexed their sharp claws into the surface, the added grip giving them an advantage. The Hero was not too far behind, but he was clearly finding it harder to run with his thick leather boots.
Up ahead, The Coward stopped at a deadend, its walls too high for them to possibly climb, even without the rain.
They ran up to the wall and looked up at it hopelessly. There was the sound of something shifting, close against their back, from a developing reflex, but it granted no satisfying whoosh. They turned their head to watch their bare, immature feathers catch no air between them.
The Coward shivered. Their breathing short and rapid.
Out of the corner of The Cowards view, they spotted an old, withering creeper, pushed up against a dumpster, leaning into it with empty eyes. It rested completely still aside from a very faint flicker of light under one of its shells.
The Hero (out of breath): You're cornered! Aha! You run fast.
The Coward: ...
The Hero: You’re not gonna trick me and reveal you could fly away this whole time, are you?
The Coward (quietly): ...I can't-
The Coward: you wouldn't happen to want to let me go?
The Hero stood up straighter, once he caught his breath.
The Hero: I- ...I have a job to do.
The Coward: Cheat day? Just a secret between me and you.
The Hero: I’m sorry, I can't.
The Coward (nervously): Ahah- aren't you guys supposed to be corrupt? Why couldn't that be useful for me, for once?
The Hero: I can't let you go, you’re dangerous.
The Coward: You don't even know my name, or what I did.
The Hero: ...
The Coward: Please, really, I can't afford getting caught at all- you don't understand how much danger I'm in.
The Coward swayed on their legs, hissing as their barely healed wounds leaked slowly.
The Hero: Are you hurt? You look hurt.
The Coward: ...yes.
The Hero: Okay, okay, well, I can help you.
He smiled nervously.
The Hero: Maybe If I help tend your wounds, you'll let me take you in?
He held his hands out tentatively. The Coward took a moment to contemplate, briefly glancing towards the out-of-order creeper.
The Coward: Okay.
The Hero: Okay, okay, good! I have supplies on me-
Just as The Hero was distracted with pulling his bag off his back, The Coward took a step towards the creeper, slowly placing their hand behind it.
The Coward: I'm so sorry.
They pushed the creeper, making it fall into The Hero, who had only just looked up from his bag.
The creeper suddenly hummed loudly, with a hot glow growing under each metal scale.
The explosion pushed back the coward, not expecting the old rusty machine to acutally blow up that much. It must have been tampered with. Charged. They breathed loudly, watching the fiery wisps light up the alleyway.
Unsteadily they stood up, turning in the other direction to make a move to run.
But they stopped, and glanced towards The Hero. They saw him laying on his side, embers and smoke billowing around him. Everything was covered in so much ashy black and red that it was hard to find his face. But those eyes looked up at them, half lidded and not blinking, the shine of blue flickering from the reflection of small flames left by the creeper.
Those kind eyes looked up at The Coward.
The Coward ran.
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starogeorgina · 8 months
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Violent delights
Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing, smut (hand jobs)
Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon/reader
1.07
Late in the night, your sons are fast asleep, tucked into the large bed at the top of the room, while your daughters both stare at your husband with curiosity in their eyes while the maester stitches his arm. While you were focused on Aegon hurting your younger brother, you were clueless to Aemond picking up a knife from the table, which Jace snatched from his hands, causing the deep cut in his arm.
The moment the maester leaves the room, you place soft kisses over Jacaerys face, ignoring the sting in your bottom lip as you do. “I am so sorry; if I had just ignored Aegon, none of this would have happened. I should have known better than to even entertain what he was asking.”
“But now our uncles have shown their true colors, and because of their actions, we can tell we made the right decision by keeping the greens at arm’s length.”
Noticing Rhaenys bottom lip quivering, you kneel down to offer her a hug, but she shakes her, backing away from you. Her lilac eyes moved between your lip and Jace’s arm; she seemed frightened by you both. Lucerys picks her up, and immediately she buries her face into her neck, mumbling something you couldn’t hear.
Jacaerys sees the hurt on your face and sighs. “Reni, what’s wrong?”
She murmurs something that only her uncle can hear. Luke strokes her hair gently, quietly saying, “She’s scared of the blood.”
The cut on your lip had already started to scab, and both Jace’s arms had blood on them. The angle that he punched Aegon in caused his knuckles to burst, and his other arm would most likely have a nasty scar left behind. The thing that hurt most was seeing your little girl so frightened, especially when all you wanted was to hold your children close. You get two damp cloths and give one to Jace, then use the other to clean your face.
Aemma leans her elbows onto the table before dropping her face into her hands. “Kepa?”
“What is it, my darling?”
“Who’s Aegon?”
You hear the hitch in Jace’s breath but cut in before he can respond. “Right, it’s time for bed; off you go.”
Aemma pouts as she drags her feet walking towards the bed, and she climbs in next to Aethan. Knowing it was going to be impossible for you and Jace to fit in beside four children and Luke in the bed, you grab two pillows, handing one to Jace and keeping the second for yourself to sleep on one of the chairs for a couple of hours until it was time to leave.
Daylight couldn’t come quick enough.
Groaning, you sit upright, cringing as your bones creak from sleeping in such an awkward position. The first thing you see is Jace sitting across from you, talking quietly to your newborn, holding him close to his bare chest. You note that Lucerys and your other four children are no longer in the room; since your husband was calm, you didn’t assume anything was wrong.
Noticing your awake Jace smiles, he kisses the baby's head, whispering, “Look who’s awake, Daemon, do you want to say good morning to Muña?”
You sit beside him and take Daemon into your arms. “My precious boy,” you say, kissing the tip of his nose and Jace on the cheek. “Where are the rest of the children?”
“Breaking fast in our mothers quarters You were sound asleep, so I thought it best to leave you be, but I did bring you back some almonds before they were demolished by Gaemon.”
He motions to the small bowl sitting on the table in the center of the room. You were never hungry in the mornings but always tried to eat a small amount so you’d have enough energy. “Thank you, husband, but I think I will get dressed first, so do not keep everyone waiting.”
Daemon’s eye closes over as you reach the cot at the foot of the bed. Gently, you place him down before stepping back to remove your nightgown. In hindsight, you should have woken up early to bathe before, but the antics of the night before and Daemon crying throughout the night had taken a toll on you. Three times you left the room during the night to feed your newborn to spare Lucerys from feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable if he woke up and saw you breastfeeding.
Feeling eyes on you, you look over your shoulder to see Jace staring at you, his brown eyes practically glued to your bare backside. Grinning, you turn around, giving him a full view of you. “It’s far too soon for that, dear husband.”
“I know,” he gulps down. His gaze lingers on you as you put your small cloth on, and when you wince in pain as the fabric of your lilac dress brushes against your sensitive chest, Jace clears his throat. “I asked Clara to bring ice water; I put a couple of napkins in it for you.”
You kiss him on the cheek as you walk by; the cold compress would do wonders for reducing the swelling in the breast. You place the wet clothes underneath the soft linen corset before pulling your dress the full way up. “Can you tie this at the back for me?”
Jacaerys fingers shake as he laces up the back of your dress, which was unusual. “Is something wrong?”
He lets out a sigh while tying a small bow with the loose strands of fabric. Jace steps back. “I need to say something.”
Immediately, you feel guilty, as if you’ve done something to cause the pain on your husband's face. “Jace, what is it?”
“I know I always said I’d never be the type of father or husband who tells his family what to do, but I should never have let you or our children come here.” He takes a deep breath as red blotches start to cover his neck and chest. “I put you in harm's way.”
“Stop; none of this is your fault. The only people to blame are Aegon and Aemond; if they weren’t brutes, then none of this would have happened.”
Tears build in his eyes. “How long do you think it will be until my legitimacy is brought into question? Because as soon as that happens, our children will be as well.”
“Oh Jacaerys,” you cup his face. “I wish I knew, but there’s no way to tell what the greens will do.”
“I don’t know how you survived living here alone.”
You kiss his cheek and say, “I believe the gods put me through it all so I can have the family that I do now.”
“I don’t know how to protect you from them; they are so malicious. What if now that Aegon and Alicent have seen Aemma, they want her back?”
“Then all hell will break loose,” you say, pressing your forehead against Jace’s. “Alicent isn’t a fool; she knows what would happen if they tried to take one of our children from us.”
“Does Aegon?”
You had no clear answer for your husband. “I hope so.”
Sitting on the soft gray rug covering the center of your son's nursery, you cradle Daemon closer to you, kissing his head while doing your best not to laugh as your children and brother continue to debate between two dragon names to pick from, which was highly amusing. When Daemon’s egg began to crack, you were stunned, given that your son was still a newborn. You sent for the children to be temporarily removed from their lessons so they could witness a dragon hatching since none of them had seen it before. When the egg cracked, a beautiful dragon with light blue scales crawled out. It was so tiny, you didn’t think you’d ever seen a dragon so small.
You had asked if any of them would like to help pick a name since Daemon couldn’t do it himself. The children had gone back and forth on Gaelithox, Aegarax, and Trixon. But you knew the Maester would become irritated if they didn’t return to their lessons soon. “Have you decided on a name?”
“Aegarax,” Gaemon says. “But only if you and Jace like it too.”
You hum in agreement, “It sounds like the perfect name.”
It seemed fitting that your brother chose a name that belonged to one of the gods of Old Valyria when both his mother and father's dragons were named after the gods as well. Aegarax was the God of all creatures that walk, run, swim, or fly. The creator of the first dragon
“When will you take us flying on Viserion again, muña?”
You smile at Avery, ruffling his silver hair. “Soon, my sweetling, I promise.”
One of your favorite things to do was take your children riding on dragons. It was a great bonding experience, and it also meant they would have experience for when they rode their own dragons some day.
You smile at Clara, who is patiently waiting on the other side of the room to escort the children. “Right, you lot, time to go back to your classes before they send out a search party.”
You frown, hearing Jace cursing in pain as the warm water spills from the tube as you enter your bed chamber. “Fuck!” He hisses, and as you walk further into the room, you see him attempting to clean around the stitches in his arm. “Gods! Fuc-”
“Jacaerys?” Your voice startles him, causing Jace to throw the cloth back into the water. You chuckle lightly, “Let me help my love.”
You crouch down beside him, picking up the cloth, and rinse it off before scrubbing his back. Jace’s body softened slightly at your touch, but his back and shoulders were still tense. You move to the side and begin gently cleaning his arm; even though Jace was perfectly capable of doing it himself, you enjoyed the intimacy of it.
You watch amused as his Adam’s apple bobs back and forth, his dark eyes blown wide with lust when water splashes onto your swollen chest. You kiss his bruised knuckle before moving. You gently start rubbing at his chest. Smirking, you kiss the back of his neck.
“Lyarra,” he says in a warning tone.
“Yes, my prince?” You lower your hand to the bottom of his stomach while continuing to pepper his neck with gentle kisses, an action that always turns him on. “My husband, my-”
He cuts you off by crashing his lips against your own. “I promise in five weeks time you won’t be leaving this room. I will take you in every position possible, and won’t stop until you are screaming in pleasure.”
“Hmm, I'll hold you to that,” you giggle. Jace was a man of honor and always followed through on his promises, so you knew when you were eventually able to lay with him again that you wouldn’t be leaving your chambers for days.
As you deepened the kiss, Jace untied the laces at the front of your dress, pulling the fabric down until your breasts spilled from it. He holds back on groping them, instead delicately running his fingers over them so as not to hurt you. Jace groans when you take his hard dick in your hand and begin to stroke him, quickly taking up your actions. He grips your hair with one hand, holding your face in place as he kisses you.
It doesn’t take Jace long to come undone, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he climaxes into your hand. After a few moments he kisses your cheek, “you look really beautiful; you always do.”
You blush at the compliment, “Thank you.”
“I mean it; you really are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Inside and out, I’m truly lucky to have you.”
“Avy jorrāelan.”
“Avy jorrāelan tolī.”
“Dracarys!”
Aethan squeals when Viserion burns the dead horse lying in front of him, burning its corpse before devouring it. Avery watched in awe. Out of all your children, he was the most fascinated by dragons. He loved nothing more than going with his grandsire Daemon to search for dragon eggs. Aemma and Rhaenys remained in their lessons, but since your sons finished sooner, you decided to take them dragon riding with you.
In the distance, you could see Jace and Lucerys training, but you could tell Luke was struggling to keep up with his older brother.
Hearing a loud roar, you look up to the clouded sky. You pull your sons closer to you while trying to locate the sound of flapping wings from above, and then finally, you see the red queen, Meleys, fly into view. You smile, happy that your grandmother was visiting Dragonstone.
Avy jorrāelan - I love you
Avy jorrāelan tolī - I love you too
Muña - mother
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Note
Absolutely LOVE your Roy Kent fic! Could you do a fic with Roy or Jamie where the reader is really self conscious about their body? Like they are worried they are too big to be with someone that’s a footballer. Thanks!!!
Dress You Up
Roy Kent x Reader
0.8k words
Warnings: Language, feeling self-conscious, flirting and allusions to smutty things
Oh my gosh, how did this get lost in my ask box?? I'm so sorry 😓 I hope it came out good ❤️
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You stared at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to find any angle that you didn’t hate. When you and Keeley had found this dress at Harrod’s, she’d gushed about how hot you looked in it, how Roy was going to lose his mind. And you’d believed her, deciding that the charity gala was worth the splurge, especially considering the credit card you were using was Roy’s, at his insistence.
But now, even with your hair and makeup done, you felt… ridiculous. Instead of seeing the goddess Keeley had insisted you were in the fitting room, all you could see was every extra kilo, every place where the dress clung to you, and not in the way you’d hoped.
Your mind wandered to the guest list Roy had mentioned during dinner last week. The whole team, of course. Lots of rich old men, ready to open their fat pocketbooks for Rebecca’s fundraiser. And models. Actresses. The kind of women Roy Kent usually went for.
With your brain swimming with images of women whose bodies looked photoshopped, women you’d seen Roy with in magazines before the two of you began seeing each other, you grabbed your mobile, losing every ounce of excitement you’d about this night. In no time at all, a growling voice answered.
“Hey, you almost ready?”
The lump in your throat growing, you closed your eyes. “Actually, I’m not feeling well.” Not a complete lie. “You, er, should go on your own, Roy.”
There was a long pause on his end. “Well, this is fucking awkward then.”
“What is?”
Your doorbell rang. “I’m on your fucking porch,” Roy chuckled. “Can I at least say hello? Haven’t seen you all day. Fuckin’ miss you.”
The tenderness in his voice softened your resolve. “Just a quick moment, alright?” Your heels clicked against the tile of your front hall as you walked to your front door. “Don’t want you to catch whatever I’ve come down with.”
Roy expected to see you in sweats or pyjamas, with your hair in a sloppy bun, face probably tired. What he absolutely was not expecting was you in a beautiful dress that hugged every single one of those curves he loved. His eyes took their sweet time trailing up your figure until they landed on your face.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he hissed, thick eyebrows raised.
You squeezed your eyes shut. “I know, I look-”
“Fucking hot,” he finished for you. “Like, if we don’t get in the car right now, that dress is going to be in the fucking shrubs.” He reached out and took your hand. “How the fuck are you not feeling well and looking like that? You got some flu that makes you sexy as hell?”
Heat flooded every inch of your skin. “You think I look… good?”
Roy’s eyebrows scrunched, as if your question was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Fucking course I do. Might have to leave the gala early so I can come back and make you feel better.” He tugged you close to himself. “Unless you’re coming with me. In which case, I know some dark corners at the venue where we could get into some trouble.”
Unable to help yourself, you brought your hands up to fiddle with the lapels of his suit jacket. “You sure you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me?”
Another ridiculous question, according to Roy’s facial expression. “Why the fuck would I ever be embarrassed to be seen with you? If anything, I’m scared Jamie Tartt’ll try to steal you from me.”
“I mean…” You shifted awkwardly in Roy’s arms. “There’s lots of models and shit there, right? Gorgeous, skinny women-”
“Women I’m not interested in,” Roy cut you off. “Women I wouldn’t give a second glance to. Especially with you in the fucking room.” He kissed your forehead tenderly. “Won’t be able to keep my eyes off of you. And my fucking hands will be just as dangerous.”
You nudged Roy’s nose with yours, the knots in your tummy starting to unravel. “You sure?”
He let out a soft chuckle before pressing his lips to yours briefly. “Very fucking sure. Now come on, put me out of my fucking misery. Say you’re coming to the ball with me.”
In his eyes you could see so much adoration, love, tenderness, and more than a little lust. It was enough to make you stand up straight and tighten your grip on him.
“You know some dark corners huh?” you teased.
A smile broke out across his bearded face. “Plenty,” he assured you, his hands wandering a bit. “I’d love to show ‘em to you.”
“Fine,” you conceded. “Come in while I grab my purse?”
To your surprise, Roy shook his head. “If I come in there, we are not making it to the gala on time. We’d probably barely make it to your bedroom.”
A wicked smile spread across your face as you tugged his tie, pulling him inside with you. “We can be a bit late, can’t we?”
“If you insist.”
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Watching
@livingdeadblondequeen submitted a photo request and this poured out of my brain in less than an hour. I hope you like it, you naughty little minx!
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Rick liked to watch.
He didn't know why. Your three-way relationship was his idea. He'd gently convinced you and Daryl to give in, perfectly at ease with you and his adopted brother being intimate. He initially thought all three of you would require more boundaries. He'd have his fair share of nights with you. I don't need to see it, he thought. Until Daryl mentioned that he'd stumbled the two of you deep in the throws one night. Until that first night in Daryl's basement living space, when you rode Daryl on his sofa and Rick looked on in admiration, lust, and emotional satisfaction from the armchair.
After that, you only paired off privately. Until your birthday. Rick and Daryl treated you to a steamy joint session. Rick memorized the way your body looked splayed out on the bed as Daryl maneuvered over you, bringing you pleasure and joy. Of course Rick loved gazing at you from every angle as he loved you right too - your breasts bouncing, your lips curled in expressions of ecstasy, your body swallowing his. But seeing you enjoy yourself with Daryl pleased him on a different level that he couldn't explain.
Of course he felt awkward slipping around to the ground level in the back of the house, peeking through the window on your nights with Daryl. His hand would slip into his pants as your hips rocked in sync and Daryl palmed your breasts. Rick would quietly finish on the pavement or a small towel, if he remembered to bring one.
He knew neither of you would mind his voyeurism. You'd invite him to sit nearby, spurred on by his appreciative gaze, and Daryl was indifferent to his presence. But no matter how at ease they are with it, everyone acts differently when they're being watched, even if they aren't aware of their subtle behavioral changes. Rick couldn't explain it, but he just needed to see the private you.
He was long past being ashamed of the situation. The old world, the old ways - they were gone forever. His first wife, his partner and former best friend, even small-town Sheriff Rick Grimes didn't exist anymore. There was no time to dwell on it or miss any of it. You'd all come through the first four years of this new world with no time to second-guess how best to stay alive; you just had to do it. And it worked. Rick felt the same about relationships now. You all had to trust your guts, do what felt right, and run with it. There was no other way to live now. It didn't matter what your old self would think of you killing your best friend, ripping a man's throat open with your teeth, or gladly sharing your woman with another man. Some things you had to do to survive, others you did in order to live your best life.
So, Rick stood in the shadows, leaning against the brick wall, watching as you climbed onto Daryl's lap on the sofa and began kissing him. Daryl's feet were planted firmly on the floor, hands in your hair, lips locked to yours. They'd managed to find and bring back delicates for you during supply runs. Lacy bras, satin slips, even a deep blue garter belt and black stockings that had both men agreeing to cut that trip short. On this particular night, as Daryl lifted your long t-shirt over your hips, Rick discovered you were wearing a black thong. Jesus. His arm slipped against the wall, scraping his bare forearm, making him curse into the wind. As you pulled your shirt over your head, Daryl played with your ass cheeks. He kneaded and pinched your flesh as your hips jutted up. When Daryl playfully slapped each side, you giggled and mouthed, "Oooh!" You said something else and Daryl blushed, then lightly spanked you again. You squeezed your eyes shut briefly and your mouth hung open. Your movements became hurried and erratic, your expression hungry and serious, your hands recklessly grappling with Daryl's pants. Daryl looked a bit overwhelmed but willing. You kept the thong on and reached between your legs to pull the fabric aside. You sank down onto Daryl's length and gave him an order. Rick began to massage his balls as he watched his brother spank you again. Your hips slowly jerked on his lap and your head fell to the side in early ecstacy. "Harder," you mouthed. Daryl pursed his lips as his hand landed. You grabbed Daryl's shoulders and grinded down longer and deeper. "Harder!" You demanded. Rick's other hand began tugging on his cock as Daryl went all in. Rick couldn't make out his brother's words, but he got the gist. You liked it, huh. You're a dirty girl, huh. You wanted him to punish you, right. Rick watched you nod and beg as you lost control. Daryl reclined against the sofa back and slipped one hand between your legs. Your arms uncontrollably jolted outward as you screamed and locked your hips. Rick could almost feel your soaking wet canal closing around his flesh, instead of his dry hand. Daryl took full control, hugged your body tight to his and dropped you both to the floor. He was sweaty and intent as he turned you over and lifted your ass into the air. He slid a pillow beneath your belly, pushed your shoulders to the floor, and slammed completely into you. Rick stopped rubbing himself to sit on the cement and wipe some errant drool off his mouth. Your eyes were permanently shut tight, left cheek flat against the carpet, and your fists clenched around nothing as Daryl kept your hips still and rocked back and forth into you. You kept mouthing, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Daryl growled at the ceiling as he began pounding you. When he swung his right hand and landed a flesh-rippling slap on your bottom, you cried out again and clawed at the rug. Daryl's mouth opened wide and he bucked closely, deeply into you as he exploded.
When Rick finally opened his eyes again, he wondered if he'd blacked-out for a moment. He barely remembered coming, but his hands and the legs of his jeans were splattered. His breath was stuck deep in his chest, and he gasped as if coming up from too long under water. He finally took a deep breath and looked back up at you. Daryl had collapsed over you, slumped on the other side where Rick couldn't see his face. And you… you were smiling so wide, so happily. He could see laughter pouring out of you as your nails released the rug fibers. The words clearly defined as your lips moved, "What was that?!" Then a visible peel of joyful laughter. Daryl popped up to rest his head on your back and stroke your upper arm. Rick had never seen Daryl truly smile before. Not like he was happy to be alive, not like he had truly enjoyed something, not like this.
Rick realized right then why he liked watching you both so much. He needed to see that you were both happy. That, in turn, meant he'd succeeded. You'd all made it. You'd beaten the odds, beaten the dead, beaten the living, and lived enough to laugh despite all of it.
And nothing had ever made Rick Grimes happier than ever than seeing it for himself.
Thank you for reading!
I'm kinda proud of this one. Likes, comments, and reboots will make me ugly-happy-cry!
Tag list: @littlegodzilla @darylsgarden @minervadashwood @ravenwings73 @lonewolf471
@haniyasstuffandthangs @hail-yourselves @darylandbethfanforever9 @eternalrose81 @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog
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partiallyderived · 9 months
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-ˋˏ pens, pop, and potential love interests ˎˊ (kjh)
Summary: You lend the cute guy in class a pen.
Pairing: Kum Junhyeon x GN!Reader
Word Count: 683 words
Warning(s): None.
A/N: My dudes, this is crack. I haven't published anything since 2021 and my writing skills need honing, but enjoy. Also, like many college students, I am sleep deprived. The Pop in the title refers to soda. I'm going to edit this when I'm less sleep deprived. There will be an extended cut.
It begins with Pepsi.
Or, rather, it begins with a pen — a good, well-used Maxwriter in blue, which everyone knows is the best type of pen for taking notes; cheap but not cheap.
When you first meet him, his hair is dyed brown. In the light, it doesn’t look like coffee or strong tea or oak or chestnut; it looks like the toffees of your childhood, the ones your grandparents pressed into your hands with each visit.
His name is Kum Junhyeon — nineteen years old, three months older than you and leagues apart in confidence and popularity; the apple of the seniors’ eyes — and he sits behind you in your nine a.m. Biomolecules lecture. He laughs like a thundercloud and makes jokes that make even the strictest of professors smile, and maybe, just maybe, you are a little infatuated with him.
Because it can’t be anything else when he taps you on the shoulder and you freeze.
Caught like a deer in headlights when all the poor boy wants is a pen because his ran out of ink.
What you remember of the exchange is that you thrust your pencil pouch at him — all six pens, four pencils and two highlighters worth of it. You fumble a little in the middle — the angle is awkward, and the next table is placed just a bit higher than the one in front of it — and he has to grab onto the pouch so it doesn’t spill onto the floor, which means he has to grab onto your hands, which means your hands jolt like a kick-started engine, which means —
“Oh my god I like him?!”
Esha from Psychology, first year like yourself, has no sympathy. She’s taken to your life as if it were a drama made specially for her, and even now, she lounges on her bed like a queen, popping jelly beans into her mouth while you have a fun little breakdown on your side of the room.
“But like,” she says once the jelly beans have run out, “he’s cute, right?”
“The cutest. I hate it. My heart goes all wonky when I’m around him, and he didn’t even give me my pen back.”
//
He’s there early in your next class, dressed in a hoodie and jeans pulled so low that you have to tell yourself to avert your eyes. He looks sheepish.
You slide into the seat beside him instead of the one in front of him. A test of courage, but also because you want your pen back.
He does not have the pen. He lost the pen. He is not sheepish because of the pants; he’s sheepish because he has to tell you he lost your pen.
But Junhyeon is quick to clarify, “But it’s not that I lost it, (Name). More like, I don’t know, someone stole it from me. I swear!”
The story goes that he went to submit his work to the teacher and left the pen in the Biochemistry lab. When he came back five minutes later, the pen was gone.
“It was a good pen! The best pen! I’ve never held a better pen in my life!” Junhyeon tells you, and you believe him, because Maxwriters are good pens. And it’s fine! You can always buy another one, but you really liked that pen.
Rest in Peace, Maxwriter. Sacrificed for some guy. You were a real one.
///
Honestly, you think it’s a forgotten thing. The Professor came in before you could respond, but you had flashed him a thumbs up and gone about your business, and he hadn’t really said anything else during class, so that was that.
And then, in the canteen, when you and Esha have finally managed to get a simultaneous free period, one of the guys from Physics sets a bottle of Pepsi in front of you. Taped to the condensation, barely holding on for dear life like your sanity, is a sticky note that says I’m sorry for losing your pen. :( We should totally go out to buy another pack together - Junhyeon.
Boys are so stupid. He didn’t even write his number down.
Taglist: @daintydongyoung @zerobaseonefics @urielphix @incorrectzbone @i520u
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Wasting time
When we pull into Venus port, I don’t head to the hauler bar, and the rest of the crew don’t ask me to. Where they turn left, I turn right, and head off among the locals. The buse I take is new; they have different restraints now. The driver, too, probably. But the route is the same as it was when I left Venus for the first time, seven years ago.
I see her before she sees me. Natalie is almost thirteen now, and oh wow, she’s getting tall. She leans on the school fence, talking to a friend; both girls wear their school uniform belts at an odd angle, but it’s the same off angle, so it must be the latest teen fashion or something. There is laughter in her eyes and the ugliest paint I’ve ever seen on her nails and crystals threaded in her hair and I’m almost surprised that I can even recognise her on sight. It has, after all, been a full year since I’ve seen her.
Then she catches sight of me, and her eyes light up with joy, and without even pausing to say goodbye to her friend she runs over and throws her arms around my neck (not a strain at all, she’s getting so tall). “Mum!” she shrieks in delight, and pulls back a bit, smiling. “You look the same.”
I nod. It’s not surprising. It has, after all, only been a month since she’s seen me.
“Let’s get to the restaurant. We’ll meet your dad there.”
“Are you going to stay for my birthday?”
She always asks, and the answer is always the same. “Of course I’ll be here for your birthday.”
The restaurant is the same one that we always go to – my favourite, mostly because it never seems to update the décor – and unlike Natalie, I almost don’t recognise Samuel. There are new lines in his face, new grey in his hair, and he’s stopped bothering to wear clothes I’d remember; only his position at our usual table, and the way Natalie rushes right over to him, tips me off that this man is my husband. I sit down, and I smile at him, and he smiles back and there’s so much love there, but also tiredness. So much tiredness.
“The usual?” he asks.
“You know what I like.”
We order, and Natalie orders something with Neptunian prunes in it. I frown. “You hate Neptunian prunes.”
She rolls her eyes. “I love them, Mum.”
“I could have sworn…”
“I think what your mother means,” Samuel cut in, “is that you used to hate them when you were younger.”
“Well, yeah; when I was a kid,” Natalie says, and pops a prune into her mouth.
Throughout dinner, Natalie tells me about the latest fashions and the latest music and the latest drama with her friends, and I drink it all in as best I can. I’m in port for a week, and then I’m off, and by the time I get back next month this will all be a year out of date, but I try to keep up. It’s all I’ll have. Hair diamonds are in but hair rubies are out, if all you’ve got is rubies then you’re best to go ‘barehead’ without any jewels, and Venus Fog is the latest upcoming band and Natalie thinks she’ll get into acting and also I should tell dad how great it would be to get pet rats. Eventually she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, leaving Samuel and I over the scraps of our meals. I push some vegetables around my plate, not meeting his eyes, while he watches me.
“You look the same,” he says.
“You always say that.”
“It’s always true.”
“Next time I’ll get a tattoo or something.”
He tenses up at the phrase ‘next time’. I fall silent again.
After several long, awkward seconds, I ask, “How’s Valerie?”
“Fine,” he says. “Valerie’s doing fine.”
I bite my lip, not caring if I look jealous. I’m not; really, I’m not. It would be ridiculous for me to expect Sam to wait an entire year to see me, over and over, and not have someone else. He would never have even pursued Valerie if I hadn’t suggested it. It was a necessity of the situation.
And honestly, it’s not even just the long waits. Sam and I had been school sweethearts and gotten married when we were both nineteen. Now I’m twenty seven, and he’s… thirty five, I think? No amount of love in the world will change the fact that I am simply getting too young for him. And that’s the real problem with Valerie, I guess. She’s always been younger than him – two years younger. And me? Well.
“You’re staying for Natalie’s birthday, right?” he asks.
“Of course I’m here for Natalie’s birthday. I’m always here for Natalie’s birthday.”
“And not much else,” he mumbles under his breath, and I drop my fork and glare at him.
“What would you have me do, Sam? We have bills!”
“Everyone has bills. Everyone manages.”
“If we want to get Natalie into a tier one quarternary school – ”
“We both managed fine in a normal quarternary school.”
“ – then we need an income; a good income. Being an interstellar hauler makes me ten times the money I could make anywhere on Venus and you know it.”
“Ten times the money, for twelve times the time. You realise that, right? It comes out less on our end.”
“Do you need more? I can borrow from – ”
“No! This isn’t about needing more money; I work, Valerie works, it’s fine. It’s about your excuse for this job being oxshit! On our timeframe, you pull in less money this way, and you know it. You’re out there on the edge of lightspeed, for a year at a time, letting it do this to you, for – ”
“Do what to me? It isn’t doing anything to me; I’m fine. Just because I’m living slower than you doesn’t mean – ”
“It’s stealing time from you; time with your family! Do you see yourself? Hear yourself? To you, it’s a month-on, week-off job, but every time you go out to haul near lightspeed, it’s a year before we see you again.”
“I understand that. I – ”
“I don’t think you do! I don’t understand how you can – your daughter is turning thirteen! Half a year ago, she was six to you, right? In half a year for you, I raised a child into a budding teen. Six months more of this, and your daughter will be an adult. You realise that, right? In less than a year and a half, your time, your daughter will be older than you. And she’ll barely know you! She barely knows you now! This isn’t time you’ll get back, you know. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.”
“I know,” I say. “I know, I just… one more haul, maybe two. Then we’ll have enough for Natalie’s education, and I can come back and with that nest egg I’ll have time to actually spend with her, an so will you, since neither of us will have to work long hours any more. Just a couple more months, and we can – ”
Samuel reaches out and wraps his large, soft, gentle hands around mine. “Love. If you get back on that hauler ship, then when you get back, there will be divorce papers waiting for you.”
Natalie comes back then, so I’m forced to bite back my reply, and I think I manage to hide my rage through dinner. Afterwards, I decide to walk back to my dorms in port rather than take the bus; maybe I can walk off some of the anger.
He doesn’t understand, he really doesn’t understand, how good the money is for so little time. He’d really rather I stay on Venus and work for over a decade to make what I could in a single year on the ship. And he’s right, to an extent, about missing time with Natalie, but wouldn’t I me missing almost as much time working long hours here? This way, I have a full week off to see her every month. And once I’ve made enough, I’ll have as much time as I want with her.
Divorce. Ha. I should’ve known he’d fall more in love with Valerie in my absence. This is just an excuse.
I get to the dorms, and keep walking. Walk all the way to the hauler bar. It’s full of lightspeed haulers and basically no one else but waitstaff; we haulers tend to keep to our own kind, on the whole. My crew are there, of course, as are a few other crews, all mixed up and chatting with each other, because when you’ve spent a month cooped up with the same people you don’t want to hang out with just them on your downtime, too. We all share friendly, familiar nods and looks, friends and strangers alike. Lightspeed haulers intrinsically understand each other. There are experiences we all share that people like Samuel just don’t get.
My captain presses a drink into my hands. “So your little girl’s party is in three days, and then you’re free, right?” he asks without preamble.
“Not so little any more. But yeah.”
“You don’t mind if we head out a day early, then?”
I look out the window, up through the environmental dome and toward the stars that are completely hidden by Venus’ thick atmosphere. Already, I can feel the thrum of the ship’s engines in my bones.
“I can be ready a day early,” I say. “I don’t mind at all.”
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that-stone-butch · 7 months
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hi, your hair looks fucking amazing. can I ask you for advice? my head’s currently shaved and I’ve thought about growing the top out like yours, but stopped because the between stage made me look like I had a hedgehog on top of my head. any tips for styling between shaved and your length?
omg thank you!! i'm very flattered! as someone who has been going through it and several times in my life has done the 'lesbian going through it' coping mechanism (shaving my head and growing it back out) i have a lot of experience with the awkward middle stages.
if you're worried about styling while you're growing your undercut out, you can always just grow everything out and wait until it's all a decent length and then trim the sides back down and set the lines of your undercut. i don't know how fast your hair grows, but if it's anything like mine after a month or so you'll have enough to work with and can safely grab a clippers and cut the sides.
however, if you want to start keeping the sides short early and guide your hair through the middle stages, i'll give you my tips.
i'm very lucky to have a relatively thick head of hair, and i keep my hair healthy and strong. but that means my hairs are heavy and crowded, and any vertical styling is a constant battle with gravity. it's very easy for my hair, especially when it's short, to do what you called the 'hedgehog' thing (very accurate) and splay out at all angles, even at its current length. so i've developed a haircare routine that helps with this problem.
i work a very sweaty and messy job, and like to exercise on my own time, so i find myself showering every day, if not twice a day. as a result, i don't use shampoo every time as it will dry my hair out. instead, i use shampoo maybe once every couple weeks, if that. with every shower, i wash my hair and scrub through with water thoroughly to keep my scalp healthy. when i get out of the shower, i dry my hair like 75% and then apply a leave-in moisturizer (Revive, from Lush) and let air dry. once my hair is about 90% dry (not full dry but you can't feel the moisturizer if you run your fingers through it), i apply a small amount of hair gel. i typically use GOT2B ultra glued, but i use a very small amount, typically a bead the size of a pea on my fingertips. i work that in to all of the hair to strengthen the body of my hairs and to give them some structure. the goal isn't to thickly apply the gel to any specific spot to like, gel back the hair or anything. the gel is meant to be applied evenly throughout the top part like the moisturizer. i let the gel dry and then work my fingers through my hair to break some of the rigidity of the gel casting. now that the hair is treated, it's time to style it. i use Axe Messy Look styling paste. i know, but it works. medium hold, low shine. just a little bit worked through my hair gives it a lot of verticality and structure and it stays how i want it to look. your mileage may vary, but finding a hair care routine that works for you will help keep your hair healthy and keep it from splaying out as it grows into the length you want. this will also help you style it the way you want when it reaches full length.
additionally, as you grow out the top part of your undercut, you may want to taper the sides, instead of the sharp short cut up to the sides. this might make the transition less stark and prevent your hair from splaying out in the hedgehog effect. but either way, the early stages don't last very long and i recommend sticking with it. you'll get where you want to be before long.
hope that helps! if you have any more specific questions, feel free to send me another ask or jump into my inbox! my door is always open ☺️
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aranarumei · 3 months
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the anomalous agate (epilogue)
for anyone who has no idea what this is about, go here for part one
for those who do, here's the ao3 link
there's a lot I want to say. the first, I guess, is that this isn't quite over—like I've mentioned many times before, I still have a bonus scene that's all hanzawa to tashiro. but this, here, is the end of the anomalous agate as it exists in seigi's pov, and as a case in the case files of jeweler richard.
out of curiosity, I found the longest case I could think of in the first two volumes of cfojr—case 2-3—and checked the word count. it totaled an approximate 21k, and with this epilogue, my case reaches the same total.
this is by far my favorite fic that I've ever written, so I could talk about it forever (I really might). but here, I won't say any more, and leave the epilogue under the cut:
case 2-x: the anomalous agate (epilogue)
Richard had always liked to read during his downtime. Rather than keep a stock of books in Jewelry Étranger, he liked to cart them back and forth from his home. Once, when I asked him if he’d ever considered purchasing e-books, we spent the next hour discussing the value of physical versus digital media. There were a lot of arguments for either side, but after analyzing the various pros and cons, Richard admitted that he just preferred the sensation of flipping pages and having the weight of a book in his hands. I tried to imagine Richard scrolling pensively through a tablet in his downtime, and the image was so jarring I almost apologized for asking about e-books in the first place.
Still, one of the cons we’d discussed about physical media was the fact that it took up way more space. Despite that fact, it felt like Richard always had a new book in his hands. I’d never seen his place, so I could only imagine that he lived in a palace with a sprawling library. Or, more realistically, a luxury apartment with a room the size of my apartment allocated for his books.
Most times, the things he read were texts about jewels that went entirely over my head, or books so thick that they were similarly impenetrable. Sometimes they were both. Today, though, Richard was flipping through the pages of a thin book with an illustrated cover. It was a deep blue color, and though Richard’s hand obscured some of the illustration, the blue of the sky was dotted with golden stars—almost like lapis lazuli.
This was enough to pique my interest, and I had downtime in spades, so I sidled up behind him.
From his relaxed position in one of the red armchairs, Richard glanced up at me. I must have successfully conveyed I’ll pace around the room unless you entertain me with my face, because the corners of his mouth quirked upwards.
It had to be an awkward angle, looking up to see me leaning against the back of his chair and unrepentantly staring, but Richard made every move with elegance. I watched the way his hair began to fall away from his face as he tilted his head, opening up his expression into something a little more unreserved.
“What book is that?” I asked. 
“Le Petit Prince.” 
Le Petit? Sheepish, I said, “My English isn’t that great yet…”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “It’s French,” he said, and though the words themselves weren’t laced with malice, I could read the obvious Surely, Seigi, by now you must have learned enough English to distinguish it from other languages in his expression. “The translated title would be The Little Prince. I was reminded of it recently, so I’ve been rereading portions.”
I peered down at the page Richard had open. Sure enough, though I recognized the letters, none of the words made any sense. “What’s it about?” 
“Many things. But there was a particular scene…” He thumbed through the pages until I saw a simple illustration of a fox and a boy dressed in green. “The novel deals with a lot of things—it has a lot to say about the world, but one of my favorite moments in the travels of our titular character is when he meets the fox. The fox asks to be tamed by the little prince—here, he explains what it means.” Without hesitation, Richard translated the French before me into Japanese. “‘But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.’”
“…Tame?” 
“It’s an interesting word, isn’t it?” Richard said. “The fox defines it first as ‘to establish ties,’ but it’s still a peculiar way of expressing friendship. More truthful, perhaps.” He smiled. “Either way, I was reminded of the complications of your troublesome client.” 
There was only one person he could’ve been referring to—the one who’d bought blue lace agate earrings just the other day. I wondered if Richard had remembered the book because he’d seen the same bit of Tashiro’s green hoodie that I had, or because the cover had reminded him of lapis lazuli. But these musings took only a moment; I was stuck on the word tame.
It wasn’t something I’d ever heard used in the context of friendship, but the idea clicked with me. The word evoked a kind of dependency that I felt keenly. I glanced towards Richard. A tamed creature becomes unique, huh? If it was me… Richard couldn’t be anything but a prince.
“What’s on your mind?” Richard asked. 
I’d only recently put my foot in my mouth by comparing us to a married couple, so I refrained from trying to make comparisons. Instead, I chose to bring up a different curiosity of mine. “I was just thinking about how quick Hanzawa’s last visit was. I wish I could’ve heard him explain his choice a little more…” 
Richard set his book to the side. “The blue lace agate?” 
“It wasn’t even something you’d mentioned, so…” 
“I think that was Hanzawa-san’s way of showing initiative,” Richard said. “And it was a rather perfect stone for him. I was not needed for his choice in the slightest.” 
“That’s not true,” I said. “I—there’s no way what you said was unimportant.” 
Glossing past my words, Richard continued his speculation. “I’d mentioned, then, that agate is often dyed to enhance its visual appeal—judging by Hanzawa-san’s reaction to the word ‘truth,’ I’m inclined to think this is somewhat of a sore spot. But what it did tell me was that he was sincerely considering the jewel as a reflection of himself.” 
“…You really know everything,” I said. I’d run into Hanzawa twice, but Richard’s understanding of him matched mine.
“Not everything,” Richard said. “Agate is not metamorphic like lapis lazuli, but its banding pattern demonstrates a subtler uniqueness and complexity. I would think that choosing a naturally colored type of agate, which carries these qualities inherently, was a matter of pride for Hanzawa-san.” 
Pride was really the perfect word—I suddenly remembered Hanzawa’s words about needing strength to be anomalous. To be happy as you were… like Mami-san had expressed, it was certainly a hard thing to do.
“Maybe not everything,” I allowed, “but seriously, you’re spot on. I talked with Hanzawa a lot more than you did, but I didn’t make any of those connections.” 
Richard straightened up in his armchair, obscuring his face from my view. With a sigh, he said, “In this case�� I have something of an unfair advantage.”
“Unfair?” I asked, leaning to get a better look at his face.
“Hanzawa-san and I… I believe the expression is, ‘cut from the same cloth?’ That’s the way we are. It makes me feel ill-suited to speak to him, and I suspect the feeling is reciprocated.”
“I don’t think you’re alike at all, though,” I said, studying the mild discomfort on Richard’s face. 
He looked back up at me, curious. “Why do you think so?” 
I wracked my brain for an explanation. If anything, I felt it was Hanzawa and I who were similar, but I couldn’t say why. I could see glimpses of Richard in Hanzawa—something about the grace they made look effortless, but it wasn’t enough for me to truly compare them. Finally, my gaze strayed to the cover of The Little Prince, and I blurted out, “You’re a prince, and he’s a fox.”
As if to prove me wrong in an instant, Richard laughed, his lips curving into a foxlike smile. But even as he did so, he looked like a beautiful, otherworldly prince who could have traveled to many planets before the two of us could meet. “It isn’t that literal,” he said. “Fox or prince; they tame each other the same.” 
Well, I thought, drinking in the visage of the beauty before me, I’m probably not smart enough to be a fox, anyways. “Maybe there’s something you haven’t noticed yet,” I said like the fool I was. “Tell me more about the book?”
After some hemming, hawing, and a promise of milk pudding from yours truly, Richard agreed. He opened the book at the beginning and translated the words before him in a smooth, beautiful tone.
My weight braced against the back of his chair, I closed my eyes, and let his words wash over me.
…If I was ever in Kyoto, maybe I’d get him some kitsune senbei.
-THE END-
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Grounded part 2 (Jake Seresin)
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Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Summary: After an injury leaves pilot reader (callsign Ariel) grounded, you have to travel cross-country with your nemesis Jake Hangman Seresin. But then a week alone can teach you a lot about a person – especially when that involves meeting their parents.
4.8k words (I swear every part of this is getting longer)
Author notes: Thank you so much for reading and for all of your lovely comments and reblogs – they are all so gratefully received! I know nothing about the US Navy so please suspend belief for anything related to that. Meanwhile personal thanks to Mr Glen Powell for giving me the perfect phone ringtone over on Spotify.
Warnings: Angst – tw for plane crash, and nosy, critical parents, awkwardness, fluff and a nice cheesy fake relationship trope.
Taglist: @gingerbreadandpaper asked to be tagged on this one - if anyone else wants to be please let me know!❤️
Grounded part 2 (Jake Seresin)
When your eyes opened it took you a moment to remember where you were, and why there was a muscular tanned arm resting across your stomach, the feel of soft breath in your hair. You squeezed your eyes closed again, stomach-churningly embarrassed at what had unfolded the night before, and wriggled gently out from under Hangman’s arm, only turning to look back at him when you were out of the bed.
You’d always known he was handsome - even if that had driven you to compete against rather than swoon over him like your old classmates did - but seeing him sleep was something different entirely. Eyes softly closed under mussed blond hair, all traces of arrogance or guardedness were gone from his face. For once you felt like you could see who he really was, when he wasn’t trying to be anyone else. The morning stubble on his jaw was a few shades darker than you had expected, but accentuated the angles of his face perfectly, and seemed to lead in a trail down towards the broad chest covered by a white tank top, and you found yourself wondering with a twist in your gut just how he looked under the shirt.
What the hell were you doing? This was Hangman - nemesis since the first time you set foot in USNA, and while last night may have meant begrudgingly removing him from the enemy list, that wasn’t good reason to think about him naked!
Shaking your head, you quietly gathered your things and made it into the bathroom to shower and dress, emerging a half hour later to find Hangman awake and propped up in bed as he watched the small TV in the corner.
When he saw you, his face moved into an awkward smile and he ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, morning. How did you sleep?”
You flushed as you nodded. “Good, thank you. You?”
“Good, yeah. Good. Thanks. I was worried - an ex used to tell me I talk in my sleep and I didn’t want to…,” he trailed off and you realised with a start that he was rambling. “Guess I should, uh, take a shower before breakfast.”
You nodded, quickly looking away and busying yourself with packing your pyjamas as he climbed out of bed and gathered up his clothes and wash bag. Twice, the two of you were in the same space at the same time, both times dancing around one another awkwardly as you tried to get to where you needed to be, and you breathed a sigh of relief when he locked the bathroom door and you were able to escape the weirdness that was unfolding.
When he emerged a while later clean shaven, damp, and smelling like spice, the two of you headed downstairs amidst an awkward silence that remained even as he helped carry your breakfast back from the hot plates set up across the room.
As you took your seat you took looked to him gratefully and decided it was now or never.
“Hey, about last night - thank you.”
He smiled gently and shook his head as he took a sip of the hot tea he’d tipped two sugars into.
“No really. Those nightmares are awful when they come and you really had my back, thank you.”
Again the smile came, his eyes barely meeting yours as he cut up eggs and bacon. “It’s no problem. We both needed to sleep and it seemed like the sensible option. And hey, we’re in this trip together, right?”
You took a mouthful of coffee, enjoying the sensation of hot, sharp caffeine hitting your system until you finally felt able to tuck into your own food. But as you sat in silent, you felt the lump in your throat.
“I burned out,” you declared quietly, continuing to move food around your plate as you spoke. “It’s why I’m here, how I got injured.”
Hangman placed the knife on the edge of his plate and, for the first time that day, watched you intently. “It was a straightforward training exercise - nothing complicated. But the engine had a fault, caught fire and I couldn’t extinguish it.” You paused for a shaky breath. “I left it til the last possible second to eject, thinking I could fix it, and once I pulled the cord I could feel the heat of the plane going down beneath me. Then my chute wouldn’t open. Maybe it was stuck, maybe I was just too scared.” You met his eyes for a second, “We train so much for this stuff but you never think it’ll actually happen, you know? Anyway, it eventually worked and lifted me back up a few feet, but it was too late. I hit the ground too hard and messed up my knee pretty bad. Plus my wrist, a few ribs, but they’re healed now.” You shrugged and stabbed a piece of toast. “You asked yesterday, what got me grounded, this is it.”
You didn’t see him nod; didn’t see the expression of concern that covered his handsome face as he watched you eat for a moment before tucking back into his own breakfast.
After a moment he smiled up at you. “At least yours is a good story. Know why I’m grounded?” When you glanced up and shook your head he continued. “Ear infection. Have you ever heard anything so pathetic?”
You smiles, and laughed softly. “At least you didn’t crash and burn - literally. Maybe you are the best there is after all.”
Hangman raised his eyebrows in mock offence, but the smile on his face told you he got the joke as he gestured to you with a fork. “When you’re back in the air, we’re dogfighting, deal?”
You sipped your coffee. “Oh it’s a deal Hangman, make it happen.”
You were still grinning at one another, eyes locked teasingly, when the opening bars of Fly Like an Eagle by Seal began to sound from his phone. He turned it over to survey the screen and then, jaw set, placed it back on the table.
“Some poor broken-hearted woman desperately seeking Hangman?” You teased, and though he smiled back at you, the expression was tight and didn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s my mom.”
You nodded and decided that response was not one you wanted to jump into, instead getting back to your breakfast as you asked him about his plans for the day.
A few minutes later the phone sounded again and while he flinched before silencing the music, he seemed determined to ignore it.
“What if it’s something important?” You asked. “To call twice before 9 am…”
Hangman sighed, and begrudgingly turned away from his breakfast to pick up his phone, staying at the table where you could hear half of the conversation.
“Hi mom, how are you? Good, great. Yeah, I’m good thanks. What? How did you-? Oh, of course. Well I’m not here alone. Yeah, yeah, Ariel, that’s right,” he shot you a smile, warm but restrained. “To be honest mom that wasn’t really the plan for today, we -. Yeah. No, you’re right.” He sighed and rolled his eyes skyward. “Fine, ok. Yup. Ok. See you then. Love you.”
He ended the call and laid his phone back on the table slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes on it for a moment.
“Everything ok?”
“I’m afraid we have to make a change of plan.” His green eyes met yours but the sparkle in them was gone. “Simpson told my dad about the trip. Of course my mom wants to see me, she’s insisting we stay there tonight. If that’s a problem with you though…?”
You shook your head. “No of course - a home-cooked meal is fine, and if we’re passing -,” when you caught the deflated expression on his face, you paused. “Unless you don’t want to stay there?”
It took him a moment to respond. A long moment in which you really weren’t sure what the answer would be. “No. No, it’ll be fine. I haven’t been since Christmas and at least if you’re there the pressure won’t all be on me. I have to warn you though,” his eyes were wide as they looked at you. “My parents are a lot.”
He was quieter than usual. For the rest of breakfast and all the way through the day he was quiet and distracted, barely even arguing when you skipped a couple of songs on his playlist.
Finally, just before 6 pm, the BMW rolled into a wide, walled driveway and up to a sprawling white, three story house set inside lush green gardens.
“Wow,” you murmured as he killed the engine. “This is-.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s big. Look, Ariel,” he shifted in his seat to meet your eyes. “Like I said, my parents can be a lot. I’m apologising right now, and if you need to get out at any point just let me know. And for Christ’s sake don’t tell my dad about the ear infection. Pilots don’t get sick in his world?”
You raised an eyebrow. “And do they crash?”
He shrugged. “Yours was equipment failure, he’ll think it’s a brilliant story and regale you with all of his.” Taking a deep breath, he nodded to you and then headed out of the car.
Immediately, the large black front door was thrown open, and a stylish woman with silver blonde hair and a broad familiar grin was hurrying towards you both, wrapping her arms around Hangman before he’d even made it out of the car.
“Jake! Baby, it’s so good to have you home!” She cooed, planting a noisy kiss on his cheek as she squeezed him tightly.
He laughed and acquiesced to the hug, before allowing her to pull back to arm’s length so she could inspect him. “Have you been eating enough? It doesn’t look like it. One day Jake you’re going to have to find a good woman to look after you. You know your dad…”
“Mom,” he warned, his cheeks pink as he spotted you hobbling to the back of the car. “Ariel stop. Mom, this is Ar- y/n.”
The woman followed her son to the back of the car as he loaded up with your bags and enveloped you in a hug tight enough to leave you wobbly on your crutches and a sweet fruity floral scent.
“Y/n, it’s so good to meet you. I don’t meet anywhere near enough of Jake’s friends now, and a female pilot! Bet you keep these boys in check don’t you?”
You smiled, awkwardly. “Um, I guess so. It’s good to meet you Mrs Seresin.”
She linked an arm through yours, awkward given the stick you held, and patted your hand. “Now now, call me Catherine. It’s such a treat to have Jake come home with a woman after all.”
Hangman groaned softly. “Ok mom, that’s enough.”
But Catherine only laughed. “Why don’t you come inside. I have some lemonade cooling in the kitchen while Jake puts your bags upstairs. Jake, y/n will be in the second guest bedroom, ok?”
“Yes ma’am,” he threw you an apologetic look and a shrug as you were whisked away inside.
The house was spacious and bright, with photos everywhere of a family at all stages of their lives so far; from dated wedding photos of a glamorous young woman and a handsome, stern-looking man in uniform, through to childhood photos of a small blond boy and three girls, prom portraits of all four with their assorted dates, pictures of what you assumed were Hangman’s nieces and nephews and, of course, his graduation photos from the academy. The walls were like a gallery of Seresin life, and you were desperate to pause every couple of feet along the way to look more deeply or ask more questions, but Catherine’s chatter left no room for interruption as she led you gently through into a large open-plan kitchen which backed onto a spacious garden.
“Why don’t you take a seat,” she half instructed, tapping a stool by the breakfast bar and pouring two tall glasses of lemonade. “I’ll head out into the garden and fetch my husband while you rest.”
Thanking her quickly, you shuffled into the seat and took the glass, your eyes skimming around the room as you took in every detail from the children’s paintings on the refrigerator to the framed certificates on the far wall. The house struck a perfect balance between being fancy and homely, the kind of home that subtly screamed money, and the longer you sat in the kitchen alone the more conscious you became of just how big the Seresins’ home must be for Hangman and his mother to take so long on their respective errands.
Hangman arrived back first, coming in through a door to your right with a relieved smile on his face when he realised you were alone. He walked to stand next to you and picked up the free glass of lemonade, drinking deeply before smiling. “My mom does make good lemonade,” he commented. “How are you doing? Everything OK?
“Of course, fine. She just brought me in here to sit down while she went to find your father.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to inspect a framed photograph of three children on a shelf behind him. “No doubt he’ll be playing golf again.”
“In the back yard?” You squeaked. “Your parents have a golf course in their back yard?!”
He grinned over the frame and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off as a loud voice came from the glass doors at the back of the room. “Well if it isn’t the prodigal son and heir!”
Hangman immediately stood taller and put down the frame, raising a hand into something between a wave and a salute.
“Sir.”
The older man glanced to you but moved his green-eyed gaze quickly back to his son. “Enough of the formalities Jake, doesn’t your old man get a hug?”
The usual confident swagger was gone as Hangman crossed the room and allowed himself to be engulfed in a back slapping bear hug. You heard the two of them share a murmured conversation but couldn’t quite catch the words, only the slight stiffening in his shoulders before Hangman turned back to you.
“Dad this is y/n y/l/n. Ariel, this is my dad Admiral Jack Seresin.”
You scrambled to your feet and raised your hand in a salute. “Admiral Seresin, sir.”
The admiral motioned with an outstretched hand. “Please y/n sit, sit. How’s your journey been?”
You looked to Hangman to respond but saw that his mother had caught him, filling his hands with plates and cutlery as she shooed him into another room to set the table. So instead you looked to the older Seresin man, and noticed with a start just how much he looked like his son; jaw the same sharp angles under a softening of age and eyes not only the same shade but just as focussed as he narrowed them to watch you. There was no ease to his smile though, his mouth seeming more comfortable in a straight line that felt all too familiar from the day before.
“So far so good thank you sir. Jake’s had to drive the whole way of course, and he’s done a great job.”
The admiral sat opposite you and nodded firmly. “Good to hear. So tell me lieutenant?” When you nodded, he continued in a voice that was all business, “lieutenant <y/l/n>, what got you the sticks?”
“Oh, it was an accident - I burned out,” you stuttered.
Walking quietly back into the room, Hangman took his seat next to you, bumping your shoulder gently as he sat. “She’s selling herself short. Ariel had an engine failure; managed to evacuate on time only for the chute to fail.”
Admiral Seresin shook his head on a loud exhale. “And still made it down safely huh? Well lieutenant, that’s some fast thinking - impressive.”
“She is impressive,” Hangman confirmed, “Only pilot to come anywhere near my records since graduation.” His green eyes met yours with a warm smile. “She’s even beaten a few of them.”
You raised an eyebrow, holding his gaze even as the older man began to tell a story about his own experiences of a crash.
“It’s like I always tell Jake, every pilot will go down at some point, but only the best can handle the fallout. A good pilot should be able to control anything and everything that comes their way.”
Hangman looked away and nodded. “And Ariel’s one of the best, sir.”
“That’s good to hear. I hope you’re using your time together to pick her brains. You’ve always been too rash Jake, and you can never learn too much from a better pilot.”
Hangman’s jaw tightened, and though the sag in his shoulders was slight, you noticed it.
“That’s always been a problem with Jake, Ariel. He flies faster than he can think. Everything goes to plan, that’s fine. But in a situation like yours, it would be a big problem.”
“Enough work talk!” Catherine declared from the cooker. Dinner is ten minutes away, if the travellers need to freshen up, now is the time.”
Nodding, Hangman got to his feet, gesturing for you to join him so the two of you could head upstairs. When you returned, Admiral Seresin was pouring drinks at the dining table, while his wife and son carried dishes through from the kitchen. You smiled despite yourself at the sight of Hangman, broad chest stretching a soft blue polo shirt, carrying floral serving platters of vegetables in such a domestic setting, and when he caught your eye, he only smiled back, setting down the plates and pulling back a chair before taking the seat to your left.
“Catherine this looks amazing, thank you so much.”
“Oh honey you’re welcome. We’re just so pleased to have Jake home, we see so little of him now he’s off and flying on top secret missions all over the world.”
“Mom, I come home as often as I can.” Jake told her, offering the potatoes and meat to you before serving himself.
“I know honey, but now your sisters are so close by.” She turned her gaze on you. “Two of Jake’s sisters are married now, and the third has just gotten engaged. You know that right honey?” She barely waited for a nod before she continued. “So we have five beautiful grandchildren so far, and hopefully more on the way very soon. But you know how it is y/n,”
“We’re still holding out for baby Seresins.” Her husband finished on a deep laugh, winking at his son as he touched his wife’s hand.
Jake’s leg was close enough to yours that you physically felt it tense, and fought the urge to reach out and touch him. “Guys I’ve told you. Work is my priority right now.”
His mother tutted and sipped her wine. “Nonsense. Your father’s career went from strength to strength when we were married, the right relationship will only ever be good for you in the navy.”
His cheeks flushed. “Mom, can we maybe talk about something else?”
“I’m just saying Jake, you’re a handsome boy. Isn’t he handsome y/n?” You opened your mouth to speak, but fortunately were cut off by the admiral.
“Maybe he’s too handsome to settle down yet. I remember the young pilots I worked with, a girl at every base. It’s a man’s prerogative to sow his wild oats for a while, right son?”
Jake let out a quiet groan, but his mother’s scandalised tone came too fast. “Is that true? Because you remember the girl Jenny was friends with, what was her name? Elaine? Dated a pilot for a while. Do you remember honey?”
Jake raised an eyebrow and nodded. “She dated a few pilots if I remember - so did Jenny.”
“But Jenny didn’t end up pregnant because of it.” She turned to you briefly with wide blue eyes. “Found out right after he flew out to Hawaii never to be heard from again.” On a shake of her head she pursed her lips towards her son. “Jake I swear, if I find out you’ve been sleeping around and-.”
“Mom, I promise I haven’t gotten anyone pregnant.” He muttered through clenched teeth as you felt his leg begin to bounce rapidly.
“Well maybe it’s time to stop sleeping around now Jake. You’re not getting any younger, and-.”
“Actually,” you cut in quietly, setting down your knife and reaching over to put a hand on his. “Jake and I have been seeing each other.”
His eyes met yours with a mixture of confusion and relief.
“That’s why he’s driving me cross country instead of flying - we thought it would be good for us.”
His parents’ eyes lit up as Jake nodded slowly, swallowing before continuing the story. “That’s right. We, uh, were going to wait until Thanksgiving to tell you, but now we’re here.” He squeezed your fingers.
“Well this is wonderful news!” Catherine declared. “Absolutely wonderful. So how did you meet?”
The story you told wasn’t strictly a lie; you spoke about having been at the academy together, constantly vying for top spot in the statistics; and then about meeting when you’d arrived into North Island after your accident. But the details around that were embellished - connecting over drinks in the Hard Deck, a first date picnic on the beach, and how your friends felt about the relationship.
The rest of the dinner passed without incident, Jake’s mother seemed calmer from the news and shone even warmer smiles in your direction for the rest of the evening. And while his dad still aimed more than a few comments in Jake’s direction, the tone was more respectful than it had been earlier in the night, and you felt no shame in pressing your leg comfortably against Jake’s when things grew tense.
When dinner was over you allowed Jake to clear the table, but were loading the dishwasher yourself when Catherine came to stand by you.
“You know, I knew the second you pulled up.” She told you, passing you the final plate and glass. “The way Jake looks at you… Well, that’s a look I’ve been waiting a long time for, and not one I’ve seen on him before.” As you stood, she placed a hand on your cheek. “Thank you for looking after my son, I think you’re good for him.”
You were shocked into silence, stumbling for something to say as the Seresin men strolled into the kitchen.
“We have an early start tomorrow, we should probably head to bed.” Jake confirmed, pulling his mother in for a hug.
Stepping back, she kissed him on the cheek, and then moved in to do the same to you. “Of course. And y/n I’m sorry but we’ll still be asking you to sleep in separate rooms, we’re strict on that in this house.”
You flushed. “Of course, no problem. And thank you so much for dinner.”
Bidding your goodnights you headed upstairs, Jake following close behind you and ever-present in case you wobbled on your crutches. When you reached the top of the stairs and went to head your separate ways, you turned to him. “I’m so sorry, I-.”
He put a finger to his lips and let out a whisper. “Just head to bed, I’ll be with you as soon as they’re settled.”
“But your mom said-.”
Jake laughed softly, “Come on sweets, you think I never snuck around this place while my parents were in bed?”
As you readied yourself for bed, you heard the settling of the house, dogs being put to bed and doors being locked before the couple headed upstairs, chatting quietly between themselves. It was about ten minutes’ later when you rose to answer the gentle tap on your door.
Jake stood on the other side in sweat shorts and a vest, his hair mussed and his green eyes dancing with amusement.
“Can I come see my girlfriend?”
You headed back to the bed and flopped backwards. “I’m sorry, was that awkward? They were just going so hard at you and I couldn’t help it, I wanted to take the pressure off. You can always tell them we broke up right?”
He lay down next to you, propping himself up on one arm as he grinned. “Probably not before morning but yeah, we can do that. You don’t need to apologise though. Like I told you, my parents are a lot.”
“Has it always been that way?” You asked, pillowing your head on one arm so you could meet his eyes.
He shrugged. “Some. Navy runs in the family so I never really had a choice. And once I hit the academy they expected a lot.”
“Did you want a choice?” You asked.
He sighed and rolled onto his back, gazing at the ceiling. “I guess I stopped thinking about it when the NFL didn’t try to draft me,” he let out a low laugh. “But yeah, maybe choice would’ve been fun.”
“What would you have done?”
He shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Hey maybe I could’ve been a model, it’d be a shame to waste this pretty face, right?”
You laughed softly. “I always knew. My mum says I started playing at flying when I was 4 and never stopped. Told her I’d go into space one day, but I’m still waiting for the call up from NASA.”
“Give it time,” he grinned. “Are your parents Navy?”
“No. Dad’s an English teacher and mom had her own bookkeeping business. They weren’t surprised when I joined the academy, but they weren’t exactly happy either.”
“Did they forgive you?” He turned back now, curling up slightly to face you.
“God yes, we don’t do grudges in my family. They knew it was what made me happy,” you laughed. “And on the day I graduated from the academy? You’ve never heard two people cheer so loud.”
“Aah, so they weren’t commenting on the knot in your tie and the shine in your shoes?!”
You frowned, but only changed the subject. “And you have three sisters?”
“That’s right. Two older, one younger.” You’d expected him to continue and found yourself filling the quiet with another question.
“And how about their kids?”
This time, his face broke into an undeniably warm smile. “Ah they’re great. How about you, brothers, sisters?”
“One of each - older sister, younger brother, I’m right in the middle.”
“Do you ever think about having a family?”
In another setting the question might have felt sudden. But it felt like the most natural thing in the world to answer. “Yeah, one day. Right now work’s important, like you say. There’s a lot to achieve first. But one day, I’d like a couple of kids. You?”
The wide smile put his perfect teeth on show again. “Of course. The Seresin name has to continue.”
You wanted to comment, to ask what it took to get under that Hangman facade even here, but couldn’t find the words, so only lay in silence for a moment.
“Your dad pushes you pretty hard, huh?”
“He just wants me to be the best.” Everything in Jake tightened, and you shifted to put a hand on his arm, the warm flesh relaxing at your touch.
“You know you do that right? Every time he’s mentioned you tense?”
He paused for a moment, eyes narrowing just slightly, but didn’t speak. And when you said his name again and reached out a hand to touch his cheek, he only moved towards you, his plump pink lips brushing ever so softly against yours before he pulled back and looked questioningly at you. When you nodded, he moved back again, a hand coming up to the back of your head as he pulled you in to deepen the kiss.
It would be a lie to say you’d never thought about kissing Jake Seresin, but it wasn’t something you’d dwelled on – well, not really - but if you had, you’d have expected it all to be fireworks and passion. But this was soft, tender. Even the fire that began in your core was a slow burn, like curling up by a gentle log fire rather than finding yourself shaken by a raging inferno. There was no gripping, or grabbing, only embraces - right and steady; and when his tongue moved against yours it wasn’t the frantic battle you might have expected, but a soft invitation to go deeper.
When you finally broke apart, heavy-eyed and breathing together, he only smiled gently and settled back, opening his arms.
You tilted your head. “Didn’t your mom say you couldn’t stay?”
He laughed, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. This is a nightmare free zone y/n.”
And so, for the second night running, you pressed yourself into Jake Seresin’s arms and allowed yourself to be held as you fell into a dreamless sleep so quickly that you didn’t register the soft kiss on the crown of your head.
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themultifandomgal · 6 months
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Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love
EW Interview 2012
August 2012
It's that time again for us to do our interviews at Comic Con since I now know what to expect I'm a lot less nervous. I’m sat next to Crystal on a couch with Holland next to me. Colton, Dylan and Tyler are sat behind us while the interviewer Jess sits on an angle next to us to face us. Colton and Posey are holding nerf guns
"Hey we're here with the cast of MTVs Teen Wolf hi guys”
“Hey” we all reply smiling
“Everyone’s looking good. It’s the middle of season 2 and a lot is happening. First of all Stella and Derek surprised us in the first scene in the first episode”
“I know the fans have been waiting for that since season 1 was aired” I say smiling
“Are those kind of scenes awkward?”
“Errr not really, maybe if we didn’t know each other well those scene would be. Ty?” I laugh looking up at Tyler
“Yeah or if we didn’t like each other”
“Now Colton your character is taking a lot of the spotlight”
“I love Jackson” Crystal says
“He’s broken and hopefully someone can fix him”
“Awww that’s so cute” I voice
“Who is controlling him?” Jess asks
“Good question but we can’t tell you. You nearly had me there” Holland points to Jess
“It could be 1 of 10 people”
“Basically it could be any of us” I continue on from Colton
“What’s going on with the creepy science teacher?“
“He’s just a butt hole, but the guy who plays his super sweet” Posey says.
Some how we get on the topic of dying and cutting our hair which then leads on to talking about the contacts we wear as wolves
“Do the contacts bother you at all?” Jess asks
“Not really” Posey replies
“Speak for yourself. So you normally have the contacts in after your makeup I have to have them in before because my eyes just water so bad then when I take them our my eyes are visibly red and irritated”
“Oh yeah you really struggle with them” Posey points to me
“Tyler at the beginning of season 1 they were blue but now they’re red. Which do you prefer?”
“I like the red”
“What about you YN? which do you prefer”
“On me? Well I’ve only had the blue, but on Ty probably the red”
“Ahhh, is that because he’s your alpha” Jess wiggles her eyebrows making me laugh
“I think Stella enjoys being beta and having the protection of an alpha” I try to steer the question into asking about Stella and Derek not me and Tyler
“But Stella is very capable of looking after herself but when it comes to Derek she almost becomes weak”
“Kinda. I wouldn’t say weak as such but now he’s alpha she almost has to let him take control and he can use he’s alpha abilities on her to make her submit”
“Hoechlin definitely enjoys that” Colton comments then realises what he’s just said “I mean it in the way of Tyler enjoying playing the bad ass alpha” thankful Holland and Dylan are able to move the questions along by bringing up Lydia and whether she is a human or not.
“Ok we have to wrap this up, but this is Comic Con so who is the biggest geek here?”
“Ooo that’s tuff” Holland says
“It probably Dylan’s character on the show but who here?”
“I’ll take it for game of thrones” Tyler says holding his hand up
“Oh my god your a huge game of thrones fan. He got me into it, kinda. I mainly watch it to appease him, but yeah you really love game of thrones” I confirm what Tyler has just said. As Jess does her little outro goodbye the boys start using the nerf guns at each other. Posey hits Crystal on the head so she takes Colton’s and starts firing at Posey as he laughs.
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legendzjagz · 10 months
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Okay so I saw art on here the other day of Deku leaning over a casket with bakugou in it, in his hero uniform. And it inspired this fic. I wrote this in like an hour - it’s not edited, sorry.
FOUND THE ART - beautiful bkdk art by Bleedingivorydraws
You can also blame @z-mizcellaneous-z because we had a quick little idea abt a super angsty fic so they put me in the mood. *no worries bestie! I’m just joking around. I love you! /plat and I’m kinda thankful for getting this out!
Also, please get tissues ready when reading this cuz I fucking was sobbing writing it.
Still The Wonder Duo
“Remember when we were little and we had planned to become heroes together? We would play heroes all day long. You’d always wanna be All Might and you would let me be All Might too. It was nice when we would switch who was All Might. But even on days when I was All Might I still looked at you; still followed your lead. You were my hero even then. You were so overwhelming to watch, but I could never look away.
“I remember when we got our All Might trading cards too. I was so happy we’d gotten the same one. I knew we’d be together forever because that’s how little kids' brains work. We got the same card at the same time and it proved that destiny was real.”
Izuku sniffles and eyes shift to the card currently laying visible under black and orange gloved hands. Izuku’s own hands cover a majority of them and he can barely see the blood on the corner.
“Destiny is a bitch.” He whispers to himself and shakes his head trying to quell the still steady flowing tears down his cheeks. “You think you’ll get All Might to sign it wherever you both go? You know he will.”
Deku swallows tightly, lump in his throat, but he refuses to start sobbing. He needs to have clear enough eyes right now. Needs to keep soaking in blonde hair, the angles of pale skin, the new scar covering the right side of a face he’s known since they were children. Take in the sharp point of a nose and the curve of lips he’s only recently discovered the taste of; he reaches to cradle the cool sharp jaw of his childhood best friend in his palm. His other hand grips tightly to black and orange gloves, placed over a nonmoving stomach.
“We didn’t even get to go on a date yet.” He wishes red eyes would snap open at this confession and Kacchan would glare at him tightly and grumble: “all the good places got destroyed, shitty nerd. But let’s ditch these fuckers and i’lll make something back at the dorms before the extras show up and ruin it”.
Izuku would have laughed and used OFA to get them back to the dorms. They’d get to the kitchen and Kacchan would have him start cutting vegetables for whatever meal he’d make for him. And then yell at Deku when he didn’t like the cuts he’d make. He imagines Kacchan would wrap his arms around him, hands placed over his own to guide him in a demonstration of proper cutting and chopping techniques. And once Izuku would have completed his task he’d have sat on the counter next to the stove while Kacchan cooked for them - stealing as many kisses as he could. Then they’d move to eat at the island, ankles wrapped around the other. He’d try to steal Kacchan’s food, and they’d argue that it was the same food in each bowl. But Izuku would want Kacchan’s because Kacchan’s food was always better. He’d have those wonderful, bright, red eyes on him again. He’d have been happy just to see the intensity of Kacchan’s eyes bare into his soul for one last time. He would have -
“Kacchan - ” Izuku chokes on his next breath, because its a vision of a life they won’t have anymore. One he’ll never have again. Because the person he’s supposed to share his life with is lying before him in a casket. For someone so lively in life it's terrifying and wrong to see him so still. “Kacchan - “ He chokes again, chest tight and constricting. The tears are coming in stronger.
He rests his chin on his bicep. It’s an awkward angle, but he needs to be able to breathe in the caramel, smoke and sweat of Kacchan’s orange jacket without moving his eyes away from his face.
Izuku had been sitting outside the dorms with Kacchan, enjoying one of the last nights before they were sent out to fight. The late may nighttime air had turned chilly and Izuku had just about to suggest they head inside when Kacchan shucked off his favorite orange jacket and draped it over Izuku’s visibly shivering shoulders.
“But what about you?” He’d asked.
Kacchan had shrugged, “I run hot,”
Izuku hid a smile into the collar and breathed in deep. “Kacchan gave me his jacket.”
“Yeah, well,” He’d rolled his eyes, like it didn’t matter but Izuku could just make out a blush across Kacchan’s cheeks, “Don’t expect it everytime, Deku.”
“Okay.” He giggled into the coat.
Kacchan had rolled his eyes again, then lifted his nearest arm. Deku had taken the invitation and scooted the half a foot over to curl up into Kacchan’s chest.
“After all this is over, I’m going to date you so damn hard.”
“You can’t make dating into a competition, Kacchan?”
“Fucking watch me.”
“I already do.”
Kacchan had huffed in embarrassment, but Izuku knew he liked it. He shifted up in his hold and kissed what he could reach - the edge of Kacchan’s jaw. Kacchan of course didn’t think that was enough and had turned his head to press his lips firmly to Izuku’s. Izuku had felt like he was in heaven; the happiest he’d felt in a long time.
Now he’s struggling to find those kernels of happiness as the body under his hands remains cold.
“I wish giving you your jacket back would make you warm again. But I know your pride won’t let you take it back.”
Izuku stares at Katsuki Bakugou and studies his features till his breathing has returned to a relatively normal pace and the tears are no longer destroying his image of victory.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there.
But he knows it’s not long enough.
“Izuku,” A hand appears on his shoulder and Deku jumps and turns to look into a grey and blue eye. Shoto. Next to him stands Kirishima, his own red eyes - not the red that Izuku is desperate to see though - are filled with unshed tears. “It’s time to go, Izuku.”
Fear rises up quickly in his chest and he chokes once more on his breath, “What?” He turns to look at Kacchan, waiting to see an eyes roll and for him to tell them both to ‘fuck off’ till he was ready. But all that remains is a peacefully blank expression. “But… but…” He can feel the panic rise, “It hasn’t been long enough. We only just got here… we can’t…”
“Izuku,” Shoto squeezes his shoulder, “It’s been 5 hours.”
“NO.” Izuku shakes his head. He can’t look away from Kacchan. He has to be with him. Screw Kacchan’s pride, Izuku will walk with him till they get to his resting place. “No, it’s not time. I can’t leave him.”
“We have to go, Midobro.” Kirishima sniffles. “They have to take him back.”
“They can’t have him,” He growls and shoots his friends a glare so sharp he sees them take a tentative step back. Good. His eyes go back to Kacchan.
He hears shifting next to him, Shoto’s hands leave his shoulders; but he doesn’t look away. Trying to memorize blonde hair and how it sits just so, the way it felt to hold Kacchan’s cheek, the arch of eyebrows when doing something stupid, the way pink would tinge across his nose when Izuku would stare too long. He wants to see it now.
“Midoriya, It’s time to go.” A new voice says.
“No.”
“Midoriya, I will lift you out of here. Let’s not make a scene.”
“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him. He promised.”
“Promised what?”
Izuku can feel the tears welling up again, throat tightening and his words are voiced just above a whisper, “That we’d do this together. Side by side. He promised.”
“Okay, okay.” The new voice soothes, “He will always be with you. No matter what. He’ still with you, tied to your soul. So it’s okay to leave; because he has never left you.”
Izuku is surprised at the words and turns to look to his left to see Aizawa-sensei squatting near his knee. His eyes are red and not from quirk use. They shine like he just put eye drops in. “Sensei,” Izuku whispers.
“Come on, Midoriya. One more goodbye.”
Izuku gasps and turns back to Kacchan. Goodbye? No. no no no no no. he can’t say goodbye. It’s not time yet. They stil have so much they need to do.
He didn’t realize he was shaking his head and muttering until Aizawa places a hand on his knee, “You have to. It’s time.”
“NO!” He shouts. He can’t he can’t he can’t he can’t -
“We can do this the hard way or you can walk out of here on your own.”
He doesn’t remember what he answers, just tries to touch Kacchan one more time. Maybe he tried to wake him? Maybe he tried to kiss ice cold lips one last time. Tries to run his fingers through golden hair onc last time. But one second he’s sitting and the other he’s benign held tight to Aizawa’s chest and carried away from Kacchan.
“Kacchan!!” He screeches, tyring to see past Aizawa’s shoulder. “NO! No you can’t make me leave him! He can’t leave yet!!”
He tries to push away, but he’d been pretty week from the fighting and hadn’t been eating much since the final battle. He was weak. Kacchan would be so mad at him. Well he’s mad at him too.
“YOU PROMISED!” He yells, tears are flowing freely now, blurring his vision, “You fucking promised we do this together! You’re not allowed to leave me! You hear me! Please!!”
They’re getting further away, kacchan drifting farther away from him. He can make out other people on the edge of his peripheral; but they don’t matter. No else matter right now..
“Take me back! You can’t leave me! Kacchan please! Please please please! You’re mine they can’t have you!”
He cries and tries to escape Aizawa’s hold but his hold is too tight. Izuku gets one last glance at Kacchan’s bright blonde hair and fitted in his hero suit - looking as gorgeous as ever. As beautiful as he should be as Izuku’s symbol of victory. And then they turn a corner and he’s gone.
“NO!” He screeches once more, “Kacchan! Kacchan Kacchan Kacchan - “ He cries. He sobs. He can’t do this without him. It hurts without him. They were supposed to do this together.
“It’s going to be okay, Midoriya. It’s going to be okay.” Aizawa tries to soothe him.
“Kacchan - “ Izuku sobs into his Sensei’s shoulder. He can only say the name of his future. He thinks of what could have been. Sobs for the person who should be holding him currently. Sobs for his closest person. Sobs for a boy who was gone too soon; for a boy who was only just coming into himself.
Izuku passes out against Aizawa’s shoulder, Kacchan’s name on his lips.
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saturnsorbits · 2 years
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Play Away: Epilogue
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Fluff, Resolutions, Word Count: 2.1k.
A/N: Writing this thing has been a fucking ride, but I just want to say thank you to everyone who has given this a little read... It's been so much fun watching everyone's reactions and reading people's comments no matter which side of the fence they came down on... But, if anyone sees me change the ending in a few days, no you didn’t. Okay?
I'm still toying with the idea of writing a commentary for this piece, to kind of go over my aims/how that translated into the writing; and what I came to realise through peoples input and thoughts on the piece as a whole, too. So, keep an eye out for that if you're interested!
-> Series Masterlist.
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'And you're sure this looks okay?' You twist in your bedroom mirror and smooth out the front of the dress again. 'It isn't too much for a date?'
Mina rolls her eyes from where she's perched on the edge of the bed, she leans forward feeling the fabric of the skirt between his fingers before laying one Hell of a slap on your ass. She chuckles when you screech. 'I think it's just enough.'
'So let me get this right...' Kaminari sits up like the walking dead from where he was laying prone on the bed. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles and he has the full-faced blush of someone who has been thinking far too hard. 'Kirishima -.' He locks eyes with you before flitting to Mina as to ensure he has the entire rooms attention.
'Kirishima kissed Bakugo and then, you fucked Sero -.'
'Raw and on the couch, may I add.' Mina chimes in, squawking.
Your eyes blow wide. 'He did not tell you that.'
She shrugs, chuckling. 'He tells me everything.'
'I'm going to -.' Your rant is cut short, stopped in its tracks as Kaminari clears his throat and slaps the bed beside him.
'You fucked Sero... Kirishima and Bakugo...' He waits for someone to fill in his intentional gaps, but when no-one seems willing or able to input, he continues on listing events on his fingers like he's counting fuck-ups. 'And then, what?'
'And then, we got back together.'
Kaminari groans and tosses his head back to the bed. 'Why am I only finding out about all of this now?'
'We weren't exactly advertising it.' You shake your head and turn back to the mirror, toying with the dresses straps.
'But, at the cafe... When, when you where...' A metaphorical light bulb blows up over Kaminari's head. 'You where crying, was that – oh fuck, was that why?'
The question hangs in the air for a moment unanswered before Kaminari lets out an unholy scream as Mina jabs him in the side with one of her stiletto nails.
'What the fuck -.'
'Stop asking stupid questions.'
'I'm just trying to stay up to date with the lives of my friends, what's so fucking bad about that?'
'It's the way you're going about it, dipshit.'
'They're not even together any more, I didn't think she'd still be, y'know.'
'You didn't -.'
'Black or nude.' Spinning on a heel, you hold up two pairs of shoes and cock an eyebrow interrupting their bickering.
They stop immediately to observe the options with awkwardness before Mina chews at the inside of her cheek and clearly declares: 'Black.'
'Black it is...' Sitting on the bed beside her, you begin to work at the shoes as you feel Kaminari shift to his knees behind you. Energy radiates off of him, tainting the air as he shuffles closer and closer.
'Just spit it out Kami, I'm not gonna be mad.'
'I'm sorry.' He mutters. His hands touch your shoulders, pausing for only long enough that he's sure you're not going to push him away before he drapes himself across your back.
You chuckle, but hold him back, scrunching your shoulders to push his cheek against yours. 'You don't have to be sorry. I'm okay now...'
'Okay enough to go out and get some.' Mina knocks into your shoulder almost sending both you and Kaminari tumbling over.
'Which brings us back to...' Shaking Kaminari from your shoulders, you stand again and do a neat twirl in front of both of them. 'Do I look okay?'
Both nod vigorously, eyes shining as they admire the way your dress falls over your figure.
'I'd fuck you.' Kaminari grins.
Mina leans back on an arm and grins. 'You're gonna knock him out of the water, Doll.'
Relaxing, you finally let the excitement you've been holding back bubble to the surface. You are, after all: excited. Why wouldn't you be? Your first date in almost nine months, if anything, is a cause for celebration – especially with the fallout surrounding the break-up. From your night-stand, your phone screen lights up letting out a short chirp and attracting your attention. It's a text message:
From: Katsuki 'Hope your date goes well, tonight. You know where we are if you need an excuse to leave and a ride home.'
A smile takes your lip as you swipe up on your screen to answer.
'Ooh.' Mina hums. 'Is that lover boy?'
Shaking your head, you twist your wrist to show them the message.
Mina cocks an eyebrow. 'And you're... Okay with that?'
'What?' Your eyes flicker up to hers. 'The fact we're still friends or the fact there was a royal 'we' in that message?'
'Both?'
Pausing for a moment, you chew at your lip while you try to summarize the mess that has been the last few months of your life.
'I'm glad he's still in my life... I know that much, even - even if it did take this long for us to be okay again.' You tap back a quick response, thanking him for the offer and inquiring about his night. 'And I'm glad he's got Kiri.'
For a second it looks as if Mina might argue, but there's something about the way you smile at your phone that stops her.
It wasn't easy. Breaking-up with Bakugo barely a month after falling back together had felt a lot like losing a part of yourself, but things just hadn't been right after everything had happened. You'd tried. You'd tried so hard it had hurt and yet, nothing either of you did seemed to shake the ghosts of other peoples kisses. Your love for each other had changed and that was just something you had to deal with. All things considered, you'd both decided that a salvageable friendship was worth more than a broken heart and pocket full of resentment. Now, nine-months later, it doesn't hurt seeing the creeping blossoms of his and Kirishima's relationship bloom. In fact, you're happy for them. You'd stand by anything that made Bakugo smile the way Kirishima did.
'So...' Switching the conversation, Mina stands and shoulders her bag. 'Does this mean we're dismissed for the night?'
You nod, but knit your fingers. 'In all honesty, I think I just needed the moral support.’ A grin takes your lip. ‘I already knew the dress looked good.'
Mina throws her arms around you hugging tight and rocking. 'You're gonna have a ball.' She kisses your cheek and steps back, allowing space for Kaminari to wrap you up in a hug too. 'And... I wanna know all the details tomorrow...' Wiggling her eyebrows, both her and Kaminari gather their things and wonder back towards the front door.
'You got any plans for your night?' You cock your head, holding the door open and trying not to make it obvious that you're peering through them to look down the path.
Kaminari laughs and nudges Mina with a sharp elbow. 'Me and Shin are taking this one to meet Tetsu... Finally.'
'Oh.'
'It's not a double date or anything...' Mina blushes. 'Just a few drinks, y'know.'
'A not-double date with a couple and the guy they’re trying to set you up with. Okay.' You smirk. 'I won't keep you any longer then...'
They're half-way down the path before Mina twists over her shoulder to call back a cheeky: 'Use protection.' and then, they're gone lost to a night of drinking and potential connections.
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You've barely managed to turn away from the door before there's another knock. You check the time and feel the unfamiliar swirl of anxiety rise in your stomach. He's early. Hauling in a breath, you check your hair in the mirror in the hall before summoning the confidence to open the door.
Sero stares at you with wide eyes and a jaw that is almost on the floor. He swallows. 'Oh, shit. Is that tonight?' His eyes rake up and down your body slowly before he catches himself and blushes, rubbing at the back of his neck.
You bite down a smile and blink up at him through your eyelashes. 'Do I look okay?'
'You look...' Stepping into your space, he shuffles into the hall when you step back to let him in and shuts the door behind him. 'Holy shit, you look incredible.'
'You think?'
He nods, eyes still eating greedily at you. 'I – uh... Fuck – I -.'
'Hanta...' You push him gently in the shoulder and giggle when he rocks on his feet. 'You're mumbling.'
'Am I?' His eyes flicker for a moment before finally being drawn back to your face. As soon as your eyes connect, a grin breaks his features, heightening the blush on his cheeks.
'You are.'
'I – Well, fuck... I thought, I thought this would be easy. Huh.'
Seeing Sero still gives you butterflies. Despite the obvious shift in your relationship, he'd never demanded space when you'd rekindled things with Bakugo and in the aftermath, he'd been a rock. For almost three months he’d worn permanent tear-stains on his shirts, badges earned from the times he comforted you and let you lay your head on his chest to cry. He hadn't pushed, hadn't even mentioned the fact you knew he still had a pair of your underwear hidden in the bottom of his bedside table draw, even if part of you had wanted him too. 'Is everything okay?'
'Yeah...' He's unconvincing, he knows he is, but he hadn't expected the violent tumult of emotions that was currently making him wish he hadn't eaten lunch. 'Yeah, I'm fine – I just -.'
In your palm, your phone chirps lighting up to tell you that your date is only five minutes away.
'Is that your date?' Sero tries to smile, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. His heart hammers in his chest, making a mockery of his ribcage.
'He's five minutes away.'
'Oh, fuck. Okay, then...' Licking his lips, Sero reaches out and lets his hand trail down your arm until he can interlace your fingers. Your touch steadies him, makes him feel as though he's not going to fall apart as he hauls in another breath. He’s agonised for months about this: about you. Even after Bakugo, himself, had told him to ‘Fuckin’ make her happy, already’ one night last month after a few drinks, he’d been walking a tightrope. Nothing seemed to convince him it was the right time to come clean, to give himself to you in the way he’d always wanted. Not seeing you and Bakugo slowly warm up to your new friendship, not being told of Kirishima turning up on your door-step, almost seven months later, with a bottle of wine, another apology and a question on his lips, not even the warm smile you grew into again as the wounds of a broken heart faded into nothingness… Then, he’d heard about your date. 'Maybe, maybe I should have done this sooner, but I didn't want to – fuck, I didn't want to push you, or fuck it all up again by getting the timing wrong, but when you said you where going on a date I thought, well, I thought now or never.'
The butterflies in your stomach are going hay-wire. They flap their wings, beating them violently inside of you as you stare open-mouthed at Sero as he fumbles his way through his sentences. Hope grows like ivy around your organs and squeezes. 'Hanta...'
'I...' He smiles again before relaxing. It's you, he reminds himself, just you. 'I just wanted to see if you'd like to go out sometime.'
'Like a date?'
'Like a date.'
Your brain doesn't engage quick enough for you to formulate a response, so instead you do the thing you've been dying to do for the past few months. Lifting your hand to his chest, you take a fistful of his t-shirt and pull him in, pressing your lips to his in a flighty kiss.
Sero wraps his arms around your waist and presses you to his chest. Kissing you again feels a lot like coming home.
'Is that a yes?'
'Yeah... That's a – why... Why now?'
Pressing his lips to your forehead, Sero smiles too big and crooked. 'I wanted to do it right. Things didn’t exactly start - y’know. I didn't – didn't want to rush you or anything... ’
Your eyebrows knit on your forehead as a pang of something hits out in your stomach. 'You waited.'
He nods. 'For you...' Releasing you, he knocks a finger under your chin. 'You're worth waiting for... You’ve always been worth waiting for.’
The elation rising inside of you makes you want to punch the air, or toss yourself to your bed and kick your legs like a school girl, but before you can even think about indulging any of your theatrics there's another knock at the door. 'I -.' Your head snaps towards the sound, but you can't quite tear your attention from Sero. 'I – but – I.'
Sero laughs all croaky and crooked, but smooths a thumb over your shoulder and gestures the door with his head. 'Go...'He insists. 'I'd be rude to stand him up now.'
'Will you be here when I get back?' You whisper, but Sero just chuckles and kisses your cheek.
'I can be.'
'Please.'
'Now, go...' He slips past you, letting your hands slowly slip apart as he makes his way towards the couch and tosses himself down on it.
‘I'll be an hour, tops.'
'You'll give yourself indigestion.'
You lick your lips, feeling the thrum of excitement still fizz in your muscles. The idea of coming home to Sero fuels you, making your head light and you body weak. 'I don't care.'
Sero shake his head and shoos you away with a hand. 'Go.'
'Fuck.' You relent, weak to the grin still breaking his mouth almost clean in half. 'Fuck, okay. You'll stay?'
'Right here.' He rocks up his eyebrows and points down at the couch.
'Okay... Okay.' You don't bother checking how you look in the mirror again. There's no point. Instead, you storm straight down the hall and step out into the cold night, preparing to have the quickest date in the world.
You already have the feeling you won't want to see him again. Not when you have Sero Hanta waiting for you at home.
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Sero stares at the ceiling, not even bothering to try and squash down the violent whirl-wind in his chest that has him cheesing like a 14-year old boy who just got his first kiss. He bites his lip, letting his head rest against the back of the sofa as he thinks about all the places he could take you to, but before he can even begin a mental list the sound of keys cuts through his thoughts.
The door slams shut and not two seconds later, Sero has a lap-full of you.
'I cancelled.' Your hands tangle in the hair at the back of his skull and tug, gently easing his eyes to yours. 'I'm not going.'
Sero's hands fall to your waist immediately, thumb smoothing over your dress. 'But -.'
You shake your head, hands shaking as you hold him close. 'I don't want to wait anymore...'
Lifting one hand to your face, Sero smooths his knuckles across your cheek before pressing his thumb to your lip. He can feel his pupils swelling, his smile stretching wide and almost burning his cheeks as a deep chuckle vibrates in the back of his throat.
You nudge your nose to his and swallow. 'Don't make me wait, Hanta.'
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iocainesmoothie · 6 days
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Been playing ffxiv, paid to skip HW but really enjoyed stormblood, saw emet-selch for the first time.
I'm very impressed that his first introduction to the player was to be shot and rag dolled down the stairs, it immediately differentiates him from the other ascians who just say ominous and vague nonsense that never amounts to anything. It was almost more sinister, because it really illustrates the point that the ascians are noncorporeal horrors piloting a meat puppet.
Also very minor detail but I noticed even back in stormblood, instead of writing a boring talk quest as "go talk to so-and-so", instead they say "go meet SOMEONE at such-and-such place". Like it's so very minor, but instead of straight up telling me who you're going to meet they just sorta hint and say how excited that person is to see you again.
Mechanically it's the exact same boring quest format, and maybe I don't otherwise even care about that character, but even that tiny bit of speculating who it is and the implication that they have any kind of emotional response AT ALL is already elevating the writing.
I get the majority of quest text boils down to telling the player to go to X or talk to Y or collect Z and there's only so many ways to do that, and clarity of communication is always top priority, but in something long format like an mmo where the player has likely plugged in a hundred hours already you can kinda assume they've been trained to expect a certain order of events and can play with the format a bit.
Also the last duty of sb was one of those "everyone shows up at the big battle as npcs and cheers at you to go on to the big boss while they hold back reinforcements" fights and it's very anime but honestly it always works on me.
Been leveling up dark knight, but I bought the level 80 warrior boost because I hate playing with other people and I wanted to solo a bunch of the main scenario raids instead of queueing. Also I'm playing dark knight because aesthetics, and tanking for a group is too much responsibility for me.
Honestly dk kinda sucks compared to paladin and warrior, way less mitigation and self healing, and though it feels like I'm doing more damage it's still not as much as a pure dps.
Also bought a bunch of clothes on the shop in a moment of weakness, but now my outfit is so cool I don't want to change into anything else! And I kinda miss wearing vanilla gear and seeing your outfit change as you pick up upgrades. Oh well atleast I'm cute and it avoids those awkward moments when a piece from a new set doesn't fit with your current fit.
Ffxiv clothing designs are so gorgeous, even the shitty low-level vanilla garbage is kinda cute. Ppl who buy store stuff obviously look good but I have way more respect for the glamours I see where people just got really creative with in-game items. The graphics are like 10 years out of date but the hair and clothes and faces are still miles better than some of biowares stuff (guys I love you I'm on your side let's figure this out you can't just make everyone bald)
Also I've noticed the cuts scene cameras do a trick anime does a lot to cut down animation costs, the framing and panning and angles do a LOT of the work when they otherwise can't get these limited models to emote that much. Or else they just fully cut away and let a sound effect imply an action took place and your brain just fills in the difference.
Anyway I'm addicted and am probably wasting a lot of time on things I should be doing instead but it's nice to have something to hyper fixate on for a while, and I haven't even started SB or EW and I've heard they're both life changing so maybe I'll just glut myself until I've wrung all the dopamine I can out of it.
Also I've realized there is such a jump in writing quality in SB that I'm only really emotionally attached to lyse and hien and the general, the rest of the scions are all kind of... idk unlikable?? They're all the same kind of snarky but not really funny, and speak intelligently but not really with any character or having much to say. Allisae being maybe the exception but I feel like she doesn't get much screen time compared to her brother.
It was very touching that she's the tough prickly one, but very honestly tells you she feels alone and sadly asks you not to leave her in a moment of vulnerability before the fight where she reaches for your hand desperately before her soul is teleported away. Like damn yeah this is manipulative but you got me! I'm invested now!
Also that little crystal cat boy was in arr and I never finished/paid attention to his quest line so idk how he ended up i SB, guess I'll find out.
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luvblack1207 · 7 months
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Reader meeting Kalego for the first time as her possible fiancé
Just to clear out any confusion, in my story, due to them living for a very long time and being immortal, it is common for the age gap considered normal to be, 20 years or more. Of course, it's pretty awkward if one side is underaged and the other is not.
Enjoy. It’s fem reader.
“Y/n?”
“No father.” "Come on Y/n! Just one more meeting! I promise I picked a good family for you this time!" My father told me as I raised my head from my book.
"Father, the last time you said that, my fiancé-to-be, was a perverted man who was from a family of demons who only wanted me to marry into their family for power and fame." I objected before going back to reading.
"I’m sorry sweetheart. But this one seems to be different! The boy is only 10 years younger than you, and he's from the Naberius household! If he seems shady, I promise you, that I will never bother you with this kind of subject again." He pleaded again.
I was as others could easily tell, never that interested in this kind of stuff. For some reason, every man I seemed to meet, was somewhat crazy or creepy in a way. I felt like I was cursed.
Not that it bothered me much though. What really bothered me was my own father that kept on nagging me to get a husband.
"I am aware that a yodh(10) like you can watch out for yourself, but I want for you to find a man that can keep you happy, take you on vacations, and spend their eternity alongside you. I'm not asking you to continue the legacy. So please, just this once. Go along with my foolishness again." My father told me causing me to feel guilty.
"...Honestly father, you certainly have a way with your words." I complained before smiling tiredly and saying, "Just one more meeting. For your sake and mine."
My father's face brightened as he ran to hug me right in his arms. "Thank you darling! I don't want to waste your time, so how about we meet tonight? The other family said they can meet anytime this week!" He yelled excitedly as I nodded.
"I don't see why not." I answered as he squealed like an excited teenager and rushed out the door while screaming an I love you.
I smiled at his old antics before clapping my hands to get the maids outside to come in. "I want a formal and elegant look for this meeting. I don't care what color. Just make sure it matches my tone. I can trust you with this task, right?" I asked my maids as they huffed while holding brushes and fabrics before nodding.
"Of course my lady!!" "We'll make you the most beautiful lady in the whole entire netherworld!" "Oh don't joke around! She already is!!" "I agree! Her beauty easily beats Amaryllis sama!!" They yelled chaotically making me laugh.
In the end after a long period of getting dolled up, I was wearing beautiful and basic makeup. Since my maids knew me all too well, they knew for a fact that I didn't like wearing overbearing makeup. So, they made my makeup noticeable to others, but comfortable for me. I don't know how they do it.
My dress consisted of a dark grey jacket that didn’t fall below my waist, and a long sleeved and a square cut front black dress that had multiple layers. It was exactly what I had asked for.
My shoes were a pair of black angle strap heels along with a tight pair of grey stockings and I had light grey colored gloves on incase I felt cold.
Despite my clothes looking like I desire to have a cold by going out like that in the middle of winter, every part of my clothing consisted of temperature changing magic.
It was useful really. It made my warm clothes cool in the summer, and my thin clothes warm in the winter. It helped a lot.
I swear I still feel like my maids all have a radar telling them if I feel uncomfortable about something or if I secretly need something. It's helpful and scary at the same time.
"We'll do your hair now my lady." One of the maids announced causing me to sit back down. "I feel like this is more than enough though." I complained as they gasped dramatically.
"My lady! This is your first meeting with your possibly future husband! Of course we have to do your hair!" Another maid yelled as they all brushed my hair and ran to grab accessories.
"Ah! Don't do anything flamboyant. Just a black ribbon or a hair piece will do." I said causing all of them to pout.
One of the younger maids grabbed a black ribbon and did a half tie while tying the ribbon as a bow.
"Simple and pretty, how's that?" She asked me as I nodded in approval.
She smiled proudly and gave me a pair of long pearl earrings and a matching pearl necklace to top it off.
I thanked her before putting the two accessories on and getting up from my chair. I grabbed my purse and stretched my arms before getting out of the room.
I headed to the carriage placed outside the mansion and my father greeted me as I entered the carriage.
"Good luck sweetie!!" He screamed from the top of his lungs making me laugh and wave at him from the carriage.
"The Devilin please." I requested the driver as he nodded and drove the carriage in an instant.
After a while, I had arrived. About 20 minutes ahead of time.
The Devilin was another restaurant that high ranking demons that demons went to along with the Devil’s Ring. Actually, to be exact, the Devil’s Ring allowed people ranked from He(5) and The Devilin allowed from Zayin(7). So it was more desired for demons to have the ability to go there instead of the Devil’s Ring.
I was surprised the Naberius clan appointed a date here. Maybe they were trying to entertain me, or maybe they were trying to show their gratitude. Well, I was about to find out soon.
“The reservation goes by Naberius Kalego.” I flatly told the waiter to gulp and led me to a private room.
When I arrived, the waiter told me, “Kalego sama was waiting for you Y/n sama.” (I made it a headcannon for adults who are lower ranked than someone they don’t know to refer to them as Lady or Lord.)
I nodded and entered to see a raven like purple haired man with two horns of the same color matching his hair. He had a white shirt on with a dark blue vest. He seemed like the best good looking man I had seen on my dates.
He looked away from the window and stood up to greet me with a small bow. “Good afternoon Y/n sama. I am Naberius Kalego. The youngest child of the Naberius clan. It is an honor to meet you.” He said formally as I closed my eyes slowly with a smile.
“Pleasure to meet you Kalego san. I hope we can get along.” I responded with a smile. He nodded and sled the chair for me.
I sat down comfortably and he handed me the menu book.
"Let's order first." I said which he agreed to. He ordered the house's main course and I ordered a salad and a steak. We both ordered alcohol since neither of us were planning to fly ourselves home.
After we both ordered, we talked about ourselves.
"Well, I believe that you are the guard dog of Babyls?" I casually questioned as the waiter handed us some champagne.
"Ah, yes. I am currently the teacher of the misfit class as well." He answered confusing me slightly. "Ara? I took you as a person who would want the least of noise. I suppose it was my mistake." I said while laughing softly.
"Actually, no. Something.. happened due to one of my stupid students causing a havoc so I was late to the meeting where they were deciding which class everyone chose to teach as the homeroom teacher. So I was left with only the misfit class left." He explained as he sighed and looked to the window.
"Oh! Such an interesting story. Is this about Sullivan's grandson summoning you as his familiar? Opera told me while we were talking about Babyls." I commented causing him to cough out his champagne.
"Oh my, are you alright?" I asked as I handed him a tissue.
He took it from my hand and coughed a few more times while tapping the tissue on his face gently. His lower jaw to be precise.
"*Cough* Everything is alright. I.. just wasn't expecting you to know." He told me honestly. "Ah, Opera's my kouhai. They tell me everything. They also tell me a lot about you!" I yelled with an innocent smile causing him to look at me with his eyes wide open from shock.
"Opera senpai.. is your, kouhai?" He asked me as I nodded. "If they are torturing you, tell me. We seem to be on good terms judging by the current mood." I told him and he nodded slowly, as if he was trying to cram in all this new information inside his brain.
Soon, our order was ready and the waiter handed it to us. We ate while chatting to each other about the stuff I liked and he liked.
Frankly, we had a lot in common. He liked to play instruments. I specifically liked playing the stringed classical instruments. That, along with piano.
We had the same taste in food, clothing, we liked the same color, and we liked to be in peace. It was honestly like meeting a doppelgänger of me.
We were almost done with our food when I mentioned this. “Did you know that Opera is ranked an Aleph(1)?” “Yes actually. I asked them what they were ranked. My guess was a He(5) or a Vau(6) since they were so strong, and they never even bothered to rank up!” He yelled making me laugh.
“Yeah! It was so funny.” I agreed. “I thought they were a Zayin(7) when I graduated early but they still remained an Aleph(1)! I was literally a Chet(8) too.” I told him.
He pondered for a second then proceeding to ask, “How do you feel? As the youngest person to be a Yodh(10)? I believe some had called you irresponsible and lazy for giving up on your title as one of the 3 Greats for Levi sama.”
“Hmm? You probably said it because we were talking about ranks, correct?” I asked which he answered with a yes.
“It’s pretty annoying. They’re always saying Delkira sama took a little longer to reach that rank so they’re telling me to becoming the next demon king! How rude of them.”
“Hey, just a question..”
“Do you think I should be the next demon king?” I asked another question.
I was glaring at him, expecting the answer yes. So I didn’t really think he would say no.
“Eh?” I asked, clearly caught off guard.
“Well, judging by your tone and your way of talking, you seem to be not wanting to become the next leader. The previous demon kings became the demon king because they wanted to. Not because they were pressured to do so. It’s your choice, is it not?” He answered while taking a bite of his food surprising me.
“Hm, I like you.” I said bluntly.
“H-huh?” He asked with a red face.
‘Cute.’ I thought as I smiled. “Just saying the truth. I like how you think.” I told him as he looked away out of embarrassment.
“Sorry about that. I tend to be blunt with things. Hey, how about we go now? We’re both done with food.” I questioned as he nodded.
We both left the place with detection warding glasses and headed outside.
“Shall I expect an answer from you within a week?” He asked.
“Actually, no.”
“What?”
“I never actually got this far with anyone else so now I’m a little nervous. Congrats, you’re the first and only man I actually like. But still, marriage is a complicated thing. So as grown adults, I don’t think it’s something we can just decided with a single date.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Two more dates.” I told him while holding up a peace sign. “Two more dates and I’ll give you an answer.” Kalego smirked at me and nodded proudly and we left on our own accord after that.
That was the best man I met, and the best date I went to so far.
(After two dates they agreed to get married.🥰)
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ragweed98 · 2 years
Text
Mitch Rapp X Reader oneshot
Warnings: massive sexual tension build up??
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Y/n snuck into the warehouse where Rapp was being held hostage, arms handcuffed and secured overhead, though whoever had gotten lucky enough to capture him wasn't smart enough to secure his feet so he just stood there.
Y/n, seeing he's too tall to reach comes to the conclusion that she's got to climb him to pick the handcuffs. 
"Sorry in advance for this Rapp, but I'm too short" 
"What are you--" Mitch gets cut off as you jump up and climb him as professionally as possible, locking your ankles around his waist.
As you start to pick the handcuffs ignoring the awkward angle you jokingly think to yourself that Mitch at least has to keep his hands to himself until you hear a snicker from him. Looking down, he glances up, the briefest flash of mischief crosses his face and then he lets out a small groan, his head hanging back, exposing his throat to you. You bring two fingers down to his pulse point, hand partially wrapping around his throat but his heartbeat seems normal, if not a little on the fast side. Adrenaline or biological toxin tests, you think bringing your hand back up to work the cuffs.
Still wary of your surroundings you ask Mitch if they drugged him at all, his only answer was another small moan but then his head came up and fell forward. You blushed as Rapp face planted into your chest, though you managed to hold your composer, asking him what he thought they'd drugged him with. Suddenly you felt little kisses along the tops your breasts, then a little sucking sensation causing you to slide down Mitch in surprise. He groaned at the loss of contact both above and below and you glared up at him as you hiked yourself back up his mountain of muscle to finish picking his handcuffs and extract him.
"Now is not the time" you whisper yelled at him.
"So there's a right time?" Mitch asked innocently.
"You know perfectly well this is a professional relationship and we can't do anything about anything, there!" As you took the handcuffs off one of his wrists, slipping it out of the chain to unlock the other one at ground level Rapps hands came down before you could climb off, wrapping around your thighs and slammed you into the wall nearby.
"Is this okay?" He asked, breathing heavily, digging his fingers deep into your legs like he was holding himself back from things you never even even dreamed of.
Your brain function was atruggling to remember to breath as you managed to start to answer him, "Mitch I didn't clear the area, this was a stealth mission I -" 
Soft lips cut you off and you melted into his hard body, knowing all the spots that made him tick from the countless hours of tension filled sparring together.
As you threaded your fingers into his hair, he leaned into you, released your legs to snap both handcuffs onto your wrists and fold his fingers with yours to force them over your head.
"I assume you only "needed" my help when it suited you?" You cocked an eyebrow at him for getting the second cuff off without you noticing, though you would admit you may have been unfocused and let it slip past.
"I guess so" he smirked
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