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bakugoushotwife · 11 days

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happy birthday bakugou!! // k. bakugou x fem! reader (selfship tbh)

warnings: very self indulgent, pregnancy, reader is a woman and mother already, bakufamily hehe <3

the tug on the covers is what wakes him. he’s always been a light sleeper, trained for years to detect any threat, even when he’s supposed to be at rest. maybe he’s a little less concerned about the random noises he hears around his house nowadays; primed from years of marriage to the clumsiest woman alive–and fatherhood to the clumsiest children. another tug. though he had hoped to sleep in today of all days. he took a personal day from the agency just to relax, cuddle up to his wife, maybe have a late brunch with the kids. the perfect day of rest for a busy man like him.

he peeps an eye open to see if you’re laying in your spot. tch, hag. he rolls his closed eyes and decides to turn over; he could probably go back to sleep. another tug.

“daddy!” bakugou’s little daughter huffs, patience clearly run out by that inherited scowl tugging on her features. complete with a stomp and all, natsuki pulls again. he loves his kids, cherishes being a father, but please. he just wants a minute longer. is that so much to ask on his birthday?

“nats, go get yer ma or come lay down.” he grumbles in the groggy morning voice you love to hear so much. your mini me happily obliges, giggling as she scales her way up onto the bed. she’s only five, and is absolutely her father’s biggest fan. he’s especially soft for his first born, and his precious little princess–hearing her laughter sheds the grump right off of him, heart melting a little as she sneaks under a heavy arm to lay next to him. “where is yer ma anyway?” he pouts, making her poke at the deep frown.

“shhh, can’ tell you!! i distract.” she nods. oh how she possesses your grace. that makes him snort, and he already knows you have to be scheming something for today’s ‘holiday’, as you would call it. and his son is being held captive to be an accomplice to such a crime. you know he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. he hates that kind of attention and would much rather spend his time cuddling with his wife all day than sitting at some restaurant accepting gifts from his friends. he nearly has everything a man could ever ask for, a beautiful wife, healthy and gorgeous children–though he could tack on a few more there–the perfect home, a great and satisfying career…the list goes on. it took years to get to this place of peace. so, he really doesn’t want anything for his birthday this year. other than your ass back in bed of course.

“oh yeah? she told ya to do that?” he blinks sleepy eyes open, meeting ones of a matching hue staring up at him. she nods. “what’s yer brother doin’?” he knows it’s a trap, but hey. you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet.

“helpin’ mama make ‘cakes n bacon!” she reveals proudly, eyes growing wide when she realizes she’s betrayed her mission. she claps a hand over her mouth and huffs at him. “mama tryin’ to be nice.”

“ain’t she? let’s go help her.” he chuckles a little bit, sliding out of bed with her on his hip. his sweatpants hang low, but he won’t take the time to change right now. his hair is tousled from sleep, but as always he’s effortlessly and ruggedly handsome in a way that will never cease to make you weak in the knees. natsuki holds onto her father’s shoulder as he softly pads down the stairs, ready to foil your surprise. he holds his finger over his lips, nodding at his little girl. she mirrors the action, swearing to be silent. he peeks around the corner, this sight bringing a gentle smile to his face. maturing and loving and having a family had simmered him down a bit, but he never lost his spark. he always knows how to balance it though, and as badly as he wants to jump around the wall and catch you—laugh that you thought you could be so sneaky; he doesn’t. you’re holding your two year old son in a similar way to his carry on natsuki, dancing around the kitchen to keep him from fussing while you plate up his favorite strawberry banana pancakes, a signature you introduced him to. you dollop out whipped cream that katsuo promptly puts his hands into, making you laugh softly and shake your head. you stick some candles into the pancakes and that’s when it really gets him.

so much care and laborious love poured into this, he can’t rob you of such a simple gift to him. natsuki pats his shoulder, pointing to the living room as you fix up the smudged whipped cream and fix your children’s plates. he sees that you’ve turned it into a massive pillow fortress, blankets and string lights and the tv tucked under it all so you could lounge about all day. the family cat perched comfortably on one of the fluffiest blankets, and blame fatherhood, he feels the sting of emotion behind his eyes. it’s perfect. it’s a gift he wouldn’t have even picked for himself–it nearly makes him laugh. you would find a way to go and do something for him anyway–even when he swears he just wants to lay around the house all day. he says that and you go and give him domestic bliss.

you walk around the corner with his plate in hand, katsuo in the other, prepared to creep upstairs and wake your sleeping husband up for breakfast in bed. then you’d rouse him to come downstairs to the massive movie theater pillow fort you built. but meh—it seems your plans were mere…outlines. your smile droops, but then replaces itself upon noticing just how shocked and happy katsuki really was. he loathes surprises, and no—you would not drag the man out for birthday dinners or even a private date for you two. he’d much rather cook for you and the kids anyway. you know that. you know him better than you know yourself. but you would be damned if a year went by where you didn’t celebrate him. and yeah–you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet.

“this is real nice, princess.” he hums, turning to face you and letting you glimpse at your regretful daughter.

“sorry mama..” she pouts, making you chuckle softly. there wasn’t much of a chance to get away with this anyway–it’s not her fault.

“aw, it’s okay baby. now we can just sing happy birthday to daddy in the fort!” you grin, nodding at him to get comfortable inside. he smiles warmly, because that’s all he feels. complete and utter warmth from head to toe. he leans forward and kisses your forehead, taking katsuo out of your arms and taking the kids to nestle comfortably in the pillow seating arrangements you crafted. it is an incredible arrangement by the way. he’s sure it took you hours. he feels that signature tightness in his chest–the overwhelming love he has for you is sometimes a physical phenomenon. katsuo crawls over the pillows to tuck himself into a fluffy corner close to his sister, clapping his hands together in anticipation of the pancakes he saw his mom whipping up earlier. you duck under the entrance sheet and grin brightly—an expression he knows and loves. you’re proud of yourself, and you should be. you drop to your knees, hitting the fluffy couch cushions and fluffy down blankets. you scoot forward on them and then sit back, displaying your beautiful pancake creations.

you nod to the kids who join you in a beautiful–albeit choppy–rendition of the happy birthday tune, and he beams all the while. his heart may genuinely burst from his chest though. the greatest gift he ever got was truly his wife–and you’ve given him two more. he leans up to blow out the candles, leaning up yet again to steal a kiss from you before he takes the plate from you entirely. “thank ya, lil squirt. and m’littler squirts.” he ruffles natsuki’s hair, getting into the breakfast as you double back for everything else. the love in his eyes, the intensity that he always carries—it’s a gift in itself to you. you’re gonna watch shitty tv all day with your kids, being lazy and awful as you snack around all day. you call it a taurus’ paradise. of course you sneak your final gift in too, snagging it from the counter.

he holds his arm out for you, chewing animatedly and nodding to show you his excitement. you lean into his hold and nestle close, putting a show on for your kids. they have limited tv time please don’t even start. “happy birthday, my love.” you hum again, kissing his cheek.

“you spoil me, gorgeous.” he smiles at you, all soft and tender to give you butterflies. he tucks his hand into the dip of your waist and starts feeding you your food like it’s your birthday. he does that a lot. you think he gets nearly uncomfortable at being spoiled–or at least wants to include you in the feeling he has. it’s adorable either way.

“you deserve it. you work so hard, you’re such a good dad and husband for me…i want to give you everything.” you chuckle softly, laying your head on his shoulder, hugging around his bicep.

“woman, look at those kids an’ yerself an’ say that again.” he says, the pinnacle of affection despite his way of speaking. “ya gave me everythin’.”

“nuh uhhh,” you giggle, digging in your pocket. “not everything. got something else for ya.” you place it in his hands—the only other thing he’d ever want: a positive pregnancy test. “one step closer to—what did you call it? bakugou total world domination?”

he sets his plate to the side and pulls you into his lap, clutching you close, chuckling a bit. “yer kiddin’! he nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs happily. “i love you.” he hums softly, shaking his head, “this gotta be the best birthday ever..” he adds, and he means it wholeheartedly. gone were the days of war and daily sacrifice. every once and a while a villain will get on his nerves for a few days—but he always comes home to his (growing) family. he didn’t even have nightmares anymore, blissfully coasting in a stream of peace he never imagined he’d know. the idea of having a lifetime like this was almost too good to be true if he hadn’t known he’d do anything to protect it.

“but don’t think we won’t celebrate on our own later~” you purr in his ear. sheesh, you keep proving this day gets better and better.

#happy birthday bakugou #i love you so bad it's embarassing smh #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #kyleewritesmha

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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monster reader just being super excited to see their mate(aka real cult owner), since they're so similar to themselves

every similarity is so nice, and the differences.....hey, can i touch your horns? ohhh, that's how they feel like

meanwhile their mate is just melting inside in a pile of goo due to how adorable reader is, and how much they want go cradle their face and pepper it in kisses

or some sort of interaction like that, if may i ask

Walking alongside your so called mate, you watch closely as they heal the remaining cultist injured during their reawakening. You place a wild flower or rock by their bedside as added apology, but you can't help but wonder away from your assigned task whenever your spouse opens their mouth.

Between their black teeth and beneath their serpent tongue, another thinner pair of fangs glowed deep red as the smog they blew entered their victims wounds. When you checked your own set there was no hidden teeth to be found, much to your disappointment.

There were a fair amount of differences you had noticed, most obvious as apposed to the one you just discovered. You were roughly two feet taller than the tallest cultist whereas your mate barely fit into any given room. They had two sets of horns whereas you didn't have a single nub. It was hard to deny that you were the same breed, but why did you look so much different than them?

Giving the last cultist their get well present, you stand on your toes as you return to their side. The deity becomes aware of your odd behavior when you bump into them from the imbalance, swooping you off your feet before you can right yourself with their best rendition of a laugh.

"Precious one, mind telling me what you are up to?"

"Nothing, it's just- I never thought I'd met someone like you and you're still so different compared to me. There's so many things I want to do and ask."

"Well, both my mind and body are temples you may explore however you please, my love." The deity steps over to a nearby tree and props against it. "Do as you wish."

"Hm.... To start off." You grab the pair of horns closer to the top of their head. Appearance wise they're slick black and without a blemish, but touch wise they feel no different than the tree bark behind you. "These are huge. Wonder why you have them and I don't."

Cracks form in your mate's otherwise tough persona as you grip their horns. "Going straight into the sensitive areas, are you? I'm unsure why you don't have them myself. Maybe you are a crossbreed with a mortal or just the runt of your litter. Either way, you are perfect for me."

"Maybe...." Your focus on their horns dwells as they smile, recollection of their second pair of teeth coming to mind as you ghost your claws over their lips. "Wish I could heal people like you do too.."

The deity kisses the pads of your fingers, relishing in the feeling of your skin across their scarred lips. Could you get any cuter?

"You have your own way of doing that, love. Maybe another reason for your stunted growth is that you haven't eaten enough humans."

"You do that?"

"Only the ones who test my patience, which is the majority of them."

"I think we'll need to talk more about that later."

"Moving on. Are you able to do this?" The deity cradles you to their chest, making sure your ear is to their throat as a soft rumble starts in their chest. You pull away with an expression that makes them fall in love for the second time in all their life.

"You purr?!"

#Shout out to exam anon I hope this is enough fluff 4 you ♡#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere teratophilia #yandere fluff

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violetrainbow412-blog · 3 months

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Tangled Dreams [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

[Timothée masterlist]

note: I decided to combine these two because they are quite similar! I hope the ending doesn't seem rushed, I really appreciate your patience and please tell me if you liked it.

Special greetings to @kpopgirlbtssvt and @broadwaybaby123 ily pretty!

As you fell towards an unknown place through a stone tunnel, you thought that there were two things you wished you had done the day before: check the hole in your bag to avoid losing all your money and have read the small print of the contract you had signed.

If you had done both, you would have avoided ending up in the mess you were in, with the seemingly kind woman who had greeted you telling you that you owed more than ten thousand sovereigns for charges you weren't even aware of. She had said that you would work for a sovereign a day, however, she hadn’t said what that job would be and before you could ask, Bleacher had already pushed you through the hole in the wall.

You hit yourself when you fell on a wagon full of white fabrics and quickly got up to understand where you had arrived. There were fumes, water, and everything smelled like detergent, so you knew it was the laundry room, but the place was desolate.

Would you have to do everything alone? How was it possible? Suddenly you felt very scared thinking about how long you would have to be there to pay off your debt. You had left your home to look for better employment opportunities so that you could develop all your artistic skills, since living in a small town it was almost impossible to practice with your brush. You were supposed to meet other artists, learn from them, buy new materials... you didn't have to end up where you had.

As the minutes passed and you had more time to think about things, the situation was getting worse. You had no one in the city who could help you, you were completely alone, without money, with debts, without food... between all of this you felt your breathing starting to accelerate and you knew you were about to experience a nervous breakdown.

That happened when you were in high-stress situations and, honestly, you hated it. Your heart began to beat like crazy with no way to stop it, you felt like you were sweating and everything around you seemed to start to suffocate you. So when you felt a couple of tears forming in your eyes, you thought that you just wanted to disappear into the wagon full of sheets where you were.

The shock didn't let you think properly and that's why you couldn't even hear the voices coming from the other room, which suddenly turned into the presence of a group of unfortunate workers.

"Oh, hello?" muttered an older man with glasses. He was accompanied by a woman dressed in blue work overalls, another lady, and a curly with a flashy suit “New here?”

Even though she seemed kind, you couldn't take the words that way. You were scared and soon everyone realized that.

“Girl, are you okay?” the woman with overalls was quick to say, with the same kindness as the man, and after that everyone approached your direction.

You wanted to talk, but you couldn't, and apparently the proximity of the group only made you more nervous. While you were trying to contain your sobs they were looking for ways to calm you down, to no avail.

After a few seconds another couple of people appeared in the place and from the corner of your eye you could observe them: she was a pretty little girl and next to her was a young man wearing a coat and hat. He noticed right away that something wasn't right and he walked in your direction to find out.

“Well, hi,” he greeted you. Everyone looked at each other with a combination of pity and concern, as if you were a helpless kitten in a box “How about we give her some space? She looks scared”

The group did as he told them and then the only one left near you was that man. He didn't say anything for a moment, as if analyzing your behavior, and then he leaned slightly against the box to watch you.

“I'm Noodle,” the girl murmured now, still keeping her distance from you. “What's your name?”

“Y/N” you managed to say. You were still looking into the green eyes that were also watching you carefully.

“It's a pretty name,” he complimented. You were still struggling to breathe a little when he held out his hand to you. “Do you want me to help you out of there, Y/N? So we can talk. We are all here to help you, don't be afraid”

Willy misjudged your appearance and thought that you were quite young, even though you were the same age, which is why he allowed himself to speak to you so cautiously.

You carefully took the hand he was offering you and then the man helped you out of the wagon, practically carrying you outside. Once you were outside his arm carefully wrapped around you and guided you to a couple of chairs, where you sat down and he sat down too.

“Breathe,” the boy urged you, realizing that you were still sobbing a little. He wasn't touching you anymore, but he was watching you carefully “Can you get some water, Piper?”

You realized that the first woman who had spoken to you was named Piper, and while you were working on regulating your breathing she disappeared down the hallway. The boy whispered soft instructions: inhale, exhale, and with that you managed to calm down until she returned with the glass he had ordered for you.

"Here you have"

You took it and drank slowly, being careful not to choke, until you felt better. You were suddenly aware of everyone's expectant gaze and you shrank in on yourself with some pity.

“I'm sorry for all this,” you murmured, now that you were more composed. “It's just that when I fell here, everything was alone and I felt very… scared.”

“That's how we all felt the first time,” said the older man, to reassure you. “I'm Abacus Crunch.”

“Y/N,” you repeated, even though everyone had heard it the first time.

“This is Piper, Lottie, and Larry,” the boy next to you murmured, smiling gently at you. “And my name is Willy Wonka.”

That last one was the one that settled in your mind the most. Willy Wonka.

“How did you end up here?” Lottie asked kindly.

Everyone listened to your story carefully, now that you had managed to calm down, and a couple of sympathetic grimaces appeared on the faces of your new companions as you spoke. They told you, in broad strokes, their own reasons for ending up there and it turned out that these weren’t very different from yours.

“We were all fooled just by not reading the small print,” Larry said bitterly, even though he was supposed to be a comedian.

“For now we will just assign you a room and… you can rest, okay?” the little girl named Noodle murmured, trying to be as friendly as possible.

“Mrs. Scrubitt told me that I would have to work here every day to pay off my debt, is that true?”

They all shared a knowing look, debating whether or not they should tell you about their recent escapades to sell chocolates, and then Willy made the decision for the rest.

“You don't have to worry about anything. We'll be out of here soon, all of us. Just sleep and tomorrow we will explain to you, okay?” he murmured gently.

There was something about his smile that calmed you greatly and you were grateful that there was someone like him in that place. They all seemed to be good people, actually, so at least that was one less thing to worry about.

Noodle took you to an empty room where you could settle in along with your few belongings and right or wrong, you thought that at least you had a roof over your head that night.

Once you slept for a few hours and when morning finally arrived, they took care of updating you on the activities they had been doing to settle all the debts that existed with the cruel woman who had deceived you.

“We move through the sewers and come back here before Scrubitt does the roll call, at night,” Abacus explained to you. He was something like the leader of the place, probably because of the years of experience he had “If you help us with sales, then you will enjoy the benefits too.”

“You mean I can leave here?” you wanted to corroborate. Willy nodded enthusiastically.

“You arrived at a fairly opportune time, the business seems quite prosperous and if we continue like this, we will be gone in… a month and a half, maybe two months,” he estimated. It all sounded pretty good and at least they had the decency to tell you, so they could include you in the plan “Are you in?”

You thought it was risky, but if it meant a chance to leave, of course you'd take it. After all, those people had been trapped for years, what assured you that you wouldn't have the same fate? As you saw things, actually agreeing to help them was your only option.

"Of course. Just tell me what to do, I'll learn quickly” you exclaimed and everyone was happy with your response. Especially Willy.

“I'll take care of it myself, take it for granted.”

You took the hand that the man was offering you, as if you wanted to formally close the deal, and then everyone rushed to get the things you needed for the day's sale ready. As you watched them go from here to there you thought that you would have to get used to that hustle and bustle, but somehow it comforted you to know that now you were no longer so alone.

“Thank you for helping me,” you exclaimed in the direction of the light-eyed boy, who had stayed next to you. “At this time and yesterday too. I was quite worried and I just… panicked”

“Oh, you don't have to thank me for anything” he smiled at you sincerely “I know how ugly it is to be scared, so if another day you feel like that just tell me. I am always happy to help”

For a man who had only known you a day, he turned out to be quite the gentleman around you. Or maybe it was just that he behaved that way naturally.

“All ready?” Piper spoke and you knew it was your cue to leave for wherever your destination was that day.

And of course, just like everyone else when Willy came into their lives, from that moment on your whole world turned completely upside down.

Becoming friends with Willy Wonka wasn’t a task that required much effort, so after a few weeks the two of you were practically inseparable. To this we had to add that when he discovered that you were the same age, his sympathy towards you only increased, to the point of turning into a clear interest in you, although not in the way that most would expect.

Maybe he was rushing, but he had started to like you in a… romantic way? Maybe. He didn't know much about what it was like to be in love, but he knew that he had begun to feel something different in his chest for you. After all, you saw each other every day, at all hours, so it had been inevitable to know a lot about you.

You had talked to him about your life before arriving in the city, living in a modest village, about your dreams and the skills you hoped to improve with time and practice. Willy, in turn, had told you about his mother, the story of him making chocolates, the aspirations and desires he had to become the owner of a shop in the gourmet galleries... in short, everything that was truly important. Sometimes you spent entire hours, when you weren't working outside, talking and so you already knew a lot about each other by that point in your story.

That was why when, after a few weeks, your sleep was interrupted by a nightmare, the first thing you thought was to run and seek comfort in the arms of your friend. It was no secret that Scrubitt had been being particularly harsh with everyone there and although most of them were already used to it, you and Willy were the ones who suffered the most from those verbal attacks. She was quite trained in the art of being mean.

So maybe it was that he yelled at you a little worse that day, or it was just that you were too sensitive because the police almost caught you when you went out on the streets to sell the chocolates, but either way your mind had taken care of shaping everything that happened to create that bad dream.

When you knocked on his door you feared the thought of bothering him with your presence, however, it was too late to chicken out because almost immediately he had already peeked out of the room.

“Y/N?” he asked, slightly confused. From the lucidity with which he spoke you knew that he probably hadn't even been sleeping “What's wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” you explained “Can I stay with you for a while?”

It didn't take Willy more than half a second to move to the side so that you could go inside and once you were there he invited you to sit on the deteriorated bed, where he also took a seat. The next thing he did was stretch his hand open on the mattress, offering you the option to take it if you needed it. You did it, partly to feel something to anchor you to reality and partly because you loved the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

“Do you want to talk about what you dreamed?” he asked softly.

“It wasn't anything too terrible, but it's just… Aren't you going to laugh?”

"Of course not. I would never do it,” Willy assured you, moving a little closer to you as if he wanted to keep the matter confidential. “What is it about?”

“It's just… I don't know, it was a strange dream. I dreamed that things were getting complicated with this whole business of selling chocolates and that's why I stayed here for years like Abacus or Piper. I mean, I really appreciate that you're trying to help us all and I know I'm the one who's been here the least and maybe I can't even complain, but… I've been afraid of something bad happening since I got here. And I dreamed that the chocolate cartel was hurting you, that's why I got very scared and I..."

“Hey, hey,” Willy murmured as he extended one of his arms to you, when he saw that you were about to burst into tears.

He hated seeing people cry, perhaps because of his compassionate and kind nature, but he hated seeing you cry, especially you. The first time you guys met he didn't want to be too invasive in terms of personal space because he didn't know how you were going to react, or he didn't even know if a hug would help you calm down. But now that you knew each other better he had also learned a few things about you, so he felt confident in holding you down if you were feeling bad. Like right now.

“I'm sorry, it's just that with what happened today with the police I feared the worst. It's not that I just love you because you're going to help us get out of here, it's that I really appreciate you and I don't want anything bad to happen to yo... to all of us, I mean”

Willy smiled moved at your concern and let go of the hand he was holding yours to hug you properly, without you objecting at all.

“But nothing bad is going to happen, dear. It was just a bad dream”

He calling you that pet name warmed your face, so you just let yourself be sheltered by his kind arms and nodded against his chest, a little less worried now that you had spoken it out loud. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, with you listening to the constant beat of his heart and with him enjoying the pleasant weight of your body against his.

“Were you making chocolates?” you asked quietly, noticing the ingredients spread across the table in his room. He loosened his grip on him slightly so you could get a better look.

"Yeah! Do you want some? Maybe that will make you feel better. Chocolate always makes me feel better” he smiled.

When Willy saw you nodding he rushed over to grab a couple of the treats and then shoved them into your hands, hoping you could enjoy them as much as he did. He was definitely right when he said that chocolate would make you feel better.

“Do these have nuts?” you asked, feeling the crunchy bits between your teeth.

"Yeah"

“I love nuts” you confessed. You had already told him before and he had made sure not to forget it, so a little smile crossed his face when he saw that the candy was to your liking. “Thank you for the chocolates. And thanks for listening to me, I… I definitely feel better”

“I'm glad to hear that”

“You're so sweet, Willy. I'm serious"

“It's no wonder. You deserve all the sweetness in the world.”

Your gaze fell on him immediately and you gave him a couple of seconds in case he wanted to take back those words. However, he didn't do it.

“Well, it's nice that you think that. Not many people are nice these days.”

“Like Scrubitt, for example?” he joked and you laughed.

“At first I felt very angry, you know? But at least now I'm happy to know that despite all this bad situation, I was able to meet someone like you."

Suddenly the urge to tell you what he felt appeared in his chest and he was honestly surprised by the impulsiveness of his thinking. There hadn't even been anything that triggered that desire, it was just his brain together with his heart that were asking him to say that out loud.

Were you going to be scared? He hoped not. Maybe he should just refer to his feelings in the hopes that you'll put the missing pieces together, or maybe he should just stay silent, or maybe...

“I have never met someone like you. You are very special to me"

You couldn't help the shy smile on your mouth and Willy settled for the excited gleam in your eyes.

“Ow, are you serious?”

"Yeah. And I think I like you a lot.”

You assumed, like everything he did, that this was just another courtesy on his part and so you responded as kindly and friendly as you could.

“I like you too, Willy.”

“And I think you're very pretty. In every way” he continued.

You didn't know if he was trying to flirt with you or if he was just being nice, so you just laughed with flushed cheeks and shoved another chocolate into your mouth to try to calm your nerves. You wanted to tell him that he was handsome to you too, but instead you murmured:

"Are not you sleepy? I can leave if that's the case, I didn't even think about…”

“No, you can stay,” he said quickly. He really seemed to want you there with him “Did I say something wrong?”

Of course he hadn't said anything wrong, how could he?

"No. I just thought you were tired and I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. “And I appreciate that you think I’m pretty”

The way he was looking at you and the question he had just asked you made you think that maybe what he had told you about liking you was something like he really liked you. In the romantic, cheesy way you swore wasn't possible.

“I like that you are here, but I don't want to keep you if you are tired.”

“No, no” now you said. You were acting so awkwardly that your brain was screaming at you to do something to fix it, but your thoughts were interrupted by his eyes landing on your lips “What?”

There was something different in the atmosphere that had settled in from one moment to the next and could be felt with the fingers on your hand.

“Can I confess something to you?” he asked in a whisper. “And you promise not to be scared?”

“That depends,” you said nervously. Those kinds of secrets could range from the illegal to the wildly strange.

Luckily, what he longed to tell you was nothing on that spectrum.

“I think I like you a lot,” he repeated. But this time you understood perfectly what he meant.

You were burning with shame at the direction the conversation had taken and you looked at your friend with fear, not knowing how to respond to his confession. You knew you reciprocated those feelings, but you didn't feel the courage to say it. Fortunately you did have the courage to lean towards him and press your lips against his, because of course, from your strange logic that would be less embarrassing.

Now it was Willy who blushed noticeably and using the same reasoning as you, decided to mask his nerves by kissing you back again. Although he didn't say it explicitly, it was notable that he had never kissed any woman and the thought of it being his first kiss made you feel touched. He tasted like chocolate and inexperience, but he was perfect.

“I like you too,” you admitted between his lips, just as if you wanted to make it clear to him that the feeling was mutual and that he shouldn't have any fear about it.

While you were kissing him, your mind kept thinking that all that had happened thanks to one of your nightmares and, for the first time in your life, you felt grateful for that bad dream.

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 10 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 1)

Ahh I'm excited to start this story! I hope you enjoy!

8.0k words Roy Kent x Reader Warnings: Language, brief references to breasts, enemies-to-lovers totally not taken right out of Pride and Prejudice, mentions of alcohol, me not knowing a thing about the Women's Super League and not letting it ruin my fun, Roy not being super excited about women's sports (but it's only because he's grumpy), Reader has a nickname

Series Masterlist

“What the fuck is a whippet?”

Rebecca stared at Roy as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s a dog very similar to a greyhound, but smaller,” she explained simply. “And it’s the official mascot of W.F.C. Richmond.”

Roy, Beard, and Nate sat across from Rebecca, who was flanked by a very excited Keeley. Nate’s expression was wide-eyed and intrigued, while Beard looked pleased and almost proud as he listened to Rebecca’s news. Roy, on the other hand, sat there with his brow furrowed and arms crossed.

Not that the manager’s body and facial language deterred Rebecca; on the contrary, she was far too used to his sulky disposition. However, considering this was a project near and dear to both her and Keeley’s hearts, she had very little patience for his lack of enthusiasm today.

“Where’ll they be playing then?” Roy asked, doing his best to show the support that he knew Rebecca was craving from him. He respected her far too much- both as a boss and a, dare he say, friend- to let her think he didn’t care, not after she and Keeley had done a whole song and dance to present the news to the gaffers: a women’s team. A women’s team for Richmond.

Keeley and Rebecca exchanged looks. Keeley’s expression was one that involved raised eyebrows, as if to say You tell him. Rebecca’s, with her mouth in a straight line, communicated something more along the lines of Shit, do I really have to tell him?

With a deep breath, Rebecca turned back to Roy. “Here, of course,” she answered, her voice steady and nonchalant, seeming to presume her response was obvious to everyone in the room.

Roy furrowed his brow, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards. “But we play here,” he said dumbly. His mind raced. Holy shit, is Rebecca selling us? Is it because we didn’t come in fucking first last year? It was my first fucking season managing, no one could have expected-

“We’ll be sharing the facilities,” Rebecca answered, interrupting the thoughts racing through Roy’s head faster than he used to run on the pitch. Her voice reminded Roy of the voices of Phoebe’s teachers: patient, calm, explanatory. It made Roy feel small.

Coach Beard leaned forward. “I can help Higgins set up a schedule of who gets to use things at certain times, so we don’t have to worry about being on top of each other,” he offered helpfully. Roy knew his assistant coach was trying to distract Rebecca from Roy’s less-than-excited response to this news.

Nate quickly got on board. “Have you hired a manager then?” he asked with a smile.

Rebecca’s shoulders relaxed. At least two of the Richmond coaches were reacting the way she’d hoped. “I have. Another American, actually,” she chuckled, winking at Beard. “Feels like we need at least two of you running around Nelson Road.”

Roy decided to do his best to follow the other men’s examples. “What’s his name? Maybe Beard knows him,” he joked.

“You can read all about her here,” Keeley quipped, handing Roy a folder branded with that familiar red and blue rearranged around an outline of what Roy initially thought was a greyhound. Internally, he quickly corrected himself; it was a whippet. “This is a little report on W.F.C. Richmond just to give you boys some more info,” Keeley continued, passing identical folders to Nate and Beard. “A bit about the manager, her assistant coach, some of the players, things like that. Just so you all don’t look like proper fools in front of her when she pops in tomorrow. Reading it would be a grand idea.” Keeley gave Roy a scolding glare; they both knew that Roy was not one to read reports, even as manager, a fact that drove everyone insane.

With a huff, Roy nodded. “I’ll read it, I’ll read it.”

Everyone knew that was a fucking lie.

I looked around my new apartment- flat, Keeley Jones kept calling it in that accent I had to stop myself from grinning at- and smiled. It was definitely bigger than my old place, and I wouldn’t have to share it with any roommates. Sure, it was in a whole new country where I didn’t know anyone, but that was fine. This was fine.

Alright, so I’d sort of miss being on the same continent as my friends and family. But this was such an incredible opportunity that I simply couldn’t pass up. Rebecca Welton was wealthy, and the salary she’d offered me was more akin to what the coaches of men’s teams made back in the U.S., not what we made in the women’s league. The chance to build a program from the ground up was a thrilling challenge I was dying to sink my teeth into. England’s passionate soccer culture- football, I reminded myself- was something I’d found lacking back home, even amongst my own family and friends. And, more than anything else, I jumped at the opportunity to leave and not look back. I was ready for something new, and different, and far away from the places I’d called home for the past few years.

The vibration from my phone tore my attention away from the redecorating I’d spent the afternoon doing, enjoying my last day of normalcy. I grinned when I saw the name on my phone.

“Coach Lucas,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” the familiar voice on the other end answered. “You settled in alright?”

Lucas Austen was the one piece of home I’d brought with me. We’d been pals since my days playing college soccer, when he was our brilliant assistant coach. While he was the first to admit he wasn’t much of an athlete, the man was a great coach, who’d found himself promoted to head coach of our college team a few years ago and even had the men begging him to switch to their side but declined in favor of leading my alma mater to multiple national titles. When Rebecca Welton had asked me about potential coaching staff during one of our million Zoom sessions, Lucas was the first name out of my mouth. She didn’t hesitate to sign him after hearing my gushing reference. And, incredible friend that he was, he didn’t hesitate to say yes.

I could picture his smiling face as I plopped onto the couch. “All good. Yourself?”

“Peachy keen,” he assured me. “Want to do something tonight? Not too tired to go out?”

“Let’s see.” I leaned back and hugged the fluffy pillow I was positive Keeley Jones had selected herself. “Sit inside all night and fret over starting a new job in a new country or go out and actually enjoy that new country? Tough choice.”

His laugh eased some of the anxiety in my chest. “Pick you up at six.” He paused. “Six London time,” he added jokingly.

We hung up, and I gave a little stretch, thinking about how insane we were for doing this- something we’d heard a lot in the last few weeks. If nothing else, Lucas and I were going to have a grand old adventure.

Roy sighed and gripped his beer tighter. He’d really let Jamie talk him into going out with him. Even worse, he’d let Jamie talk him into going to a club. Roy hated clubs; but to be fair, Roy hated most things, including Jamie. But the young player had promised his coach they’d have a good time and, more importantly, that there would be alcohol, all paid for by Jamie.

And sometimes, free alcohol was all Roy needed to hear.

So, there he was, leaning against the bar, pretending it was because he looked cool and intimidating and not because his fucking knee was bothering him. Again. He wondered how much longer he’d have to stand here before he could leave without Jamie turning into a whining twat.

“Excuse me.” A woman squeezed by Roy and gave a little wave to get the bartender’s attention. She let out a frustrated little huff when she was ignored. “Dammit.”

Annoyed at how close she was to him, Roy cocked his head. “Oi!” The bartender quickly turned in their direction. “She’d like some fucking service!”

In a flash, the bartender was getting the woman’s order and set to work making it. While she waited, she glanced up at Roy.

“Thanks for that,” she called over the music. “I’ll have to learn how to use my voice like that. Might come in handy at work.” There was a joking lilt to her voice.

If Roy had been paying attention, he would have been caught off guard by her distinct way of speaking, and if he’d been in a good mood he’d have even asked where she was from. Instead, he gave a little grunt and a nod, turning his gaze back to the dance floor, where Jamie had disappeared with some gorgeous girl.

Drink now in hand, the woman nodded to Roy. “Thanks again.”

Roy ignored her as she walked away. He glanced at his watch. 9:30. About his bedtime, and Jamie’s too if the prick knew what was good for him. He was in training, after all.

As if he knew his coach was looking for him, Jamie appeared, adjusting the stupid pink headband he’d worn because it matched his fucking shoelaces.

“Oi, don’t you think the bar can hold itself up, Coach?” Jamie asked good-naturedly, nudging Roy. Roy only grunted in response, so Jamie continued. “Get yourself out there. Dance. Live a little.”

Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me, dancing. Sounds fucking right,” he huffed. “Just let me sit here and drink my beer, yeah?” He spotted Jamie’s dance partner, who was clearly waiting for the young footballer to return to her. “Go on, poor girl’s waiting.”

A smile crossed Jamie’s face. “Cute, eh?” He nudged Roy again. “Go on, let’s find you someone. What about that girl I saw you talking to right now? She was fit. Ask her to dance.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “No fucking thank you. I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends that she danced with Roy fucking-”

“Who said I wanted to dance with you?”

Unnoticed by Roy, the woman had returned to the bar, her face and voice both sour now.

Jamie put on his best smile, clearly trying to diffuse the thick awkwardness that even he could feel. “Hi there!”

The woman paused, quirking an eyebrow at Jamie. “Hey yourself.” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a moment before returning to Jamie. “Your buddy always this friendly?”

Jamie nodded towards Roy. “He’s just awkward around pretty women,” he tried. “He really does want to dance with you.”

“No, I fucking don’t,” Roy blurted out before thinking, thankful, for once, for the stupidly dark lighting in this club for hiding his slight blush.

The woman’s eyes lingered on Roy’s face for a moment, something turning behind her eyes, before wheeling back to Jamie. “As charming as your friend is, I’ve got someone waiting for me. Maybe teach him some manners, hmm?”

In the back of his head, Roy noted that she was pretty. Really fucking pretty. Her eyes sparkled with a teasing gleam, even with her annoyed tone, and her red lips formed a perfect smirk that a younger Roy would have tried to kiss after buying her a drink.

But he was too embarrassed and annoyed to think about that right now.

Roy sighed, damning himself for how fucking rude he could be sometimes. “Listen, I just don’t want to fucking dance-”

She shook her head and waved him off. “Hey, it’s not like I was dying to dance with someone trying to dress like Johnny Cash,” she quipped, gesturing towards Roy’s totally black ensemble. “I was just grabbing some water. Not every girl walking around a club is dying for some guy to hit on her.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Even if he’s-” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind.” She nodded to Jamie. “Have a good night.” She glanced back at Roy. With a small hum of amusement, she grabbed a water bottle off the bar and was off.

Roy watched as she approached a guy, probably about his own age, and whispered something in his ear as she handed him the water bottle. The guy, his eyes widening for the briefest moment, looked over at Roy and Jamie, then back to the woman. They both broke into fits of laughter as they went off, probably to find somewhere far away from Roy and Jamie. Mostly Roy.

Jamie clapped his hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Looks like she’s got a fella. Tough break, Coach,” he said with a sympathetic click of his tongue.

Roy glared at Jamie. “Fucking asshole,” he mumbled, taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright, here we go, it’s just the most important day of your life so far,” I murmured to myself as I stared at my reflection.

Lucas and I were due at Nelson Road, our new home, within the hour. We’d finally meet Rebecca Welton face-to-face after hours of Zoom meetings, get a tour of the ‘Dog Track’, see our new offices that we’d be sharing with the men’s side, and get to meet the men’s team, the Greyhounds.

Considering that this was the first impression I’d make on everyone, I opted to dress up a bit. Some nice black slacks, a dark blouse my mom had bought for me as her own misguided way to wish me luck before playoffs one year, and a pair of heels. As I put on some bright red lipstick and pondered whether I looked badass or clownish, I heard a knock at my door.

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me as soon as I opened the door. “Shit. I should’ve known you’d be dressing up.” He wore a pair of Dickies and a button-down shirt; not sloppy, but definitely a step down from my style choice.

“You’re fine,” I assured him with a huff. “I’m probably overdressed if we’re being honest.” I took off the blazer I’d been debating all morning. “There, a little more casual?”

He shrugged, an amused grin on his face. “I mean, you look great. You’re the head coach, not me, you should look professional on our first day. They’ll all see you in sweatshirts and shorts soon enough.” He gave a small nod. “Nice color by the way.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “It’s not too much?”

“Nah, it’s just enough.” He gave a little nod towards the door. “Shall we?”

Not wanting to deal with walking directions on our first day, we opted to take a car to Nelson Road. The ride was much quicker than I expected, and I felt my stomach knot up as I grabbed my messenger bag while Lucas paid the driver.

I’d seen photos of the stadium, having made countless Google searches as the big move got closer. But now, being there in person, everything suddenly felt so real. This was it; my new home, where I’d get to help make history- hopefully a history we’d all be proud of.

A man in glasses waved to us from the entrance as soon as our car took off. “Good morning!” he called excitedly.

The moment I realized who it was, I couldn’t help but smile. “Leslie Higgins,” I laughed. As we approached, I resisted the urge to hug him. We’d seen Higgins in almost as many meetings as Rebecca Welton, and I loved him. He was kind, silly, and went above and beyond to make sure Lucas and I would be comfortable during the transition we were about to face. I knew already that he’d provide a father’s touch as we settled in.

Lucas high-fived Higgins as we approached. “Leslie, what’s shaking?”

Higgins chuckled as he shook my hand. “We are so excited that you’re here,” he gushed. “Honestly, we’ve been twittering like little birdies all morning. Tweet, tweet!” He nodded towards the entrance. “Let’s head on up to Rebecca’s office first, hmm? She’s so thrilled to finally meet you.”

We made our way inside, with Higgins cheerfully asking us about our flight, our new living arrangements, how we were adjusting to the time change so far. It felt like chatting with an old friend, and I was so engaged that I barely even noticed we’d arrived at Rebecca’s office. The door was wide open, so Higgins gestured for us to go on in.

Dear Lord, she’s freaking tall,I thought to myself as I finally stood in Rebecca Welton’s presence. She was exactly who I’d met on all those Zoom calls: gorgeous, poised, dignified, confident, and, more than anything, warm. Before I could extend my hand to her, she’d already wrapped me in a hug.

“Welcome to Richmond!” she gushed before letting go. She cleared her throat and straightened her skirt, furrowing her brow. “That wasn’t weird, was it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just a smidge. But it already feels like we’ve known each other forever, so it’s fine.”

It was true. We’d spent so many hours talking on video calls, and on the phone, and even more emailing and eventually texting back and forth, plus I’d done some light online stalking, so that Rebecca felt like a dear friend at this point. Each time we spoke, I felt more and more excited to come to work for her and help her build something special.

“My turn!”

I was smothered by a blonde vision in pink and squeezed like a teddy bear. “Hi, Keeley,” I sputtered out, returning her embrace.

Keeley Jones had been the first person I’d spoken to about any of this. She’d called me, seemingly out of the blue, and gotten straight to the chase, telling me all about how impressed Richmond was with my career as both player and coach and oh would I be interested in leaving the United States, moving to England, and helping build their brand-new women’s team? Her bubbly charisma and enthusiasm had stopped me from laughing into the phone and hanging up, chalking it up to some joke. Instead, I let her reel me in until I was walking into work and handing in my resignation, saying tearful farewells to the incredible athletes I had come to love like sisters, those goodbyes even harder than the ones I said to my family and friends. But the tiny blonde with the fast way of talking had charmed and emboldened me to do this terrifying, thrilling thing.

Lucas quickly shook hands with the two women, escaping the displays of affection that they’d shown me. I glanced at the chairs behind the women, assuming we’d sit and chat for a bit before anything else.

But Rebecca had other ideas.

“Does anyone need a water before heading downstairs?” she offered, gesturing towards her fully stocked bar. “Or tea? I know it’s not your country’s favorite, but…” She trailed off, waiting for an answer.

“I’ll take water,” Lucas said, filling the silence.

“Uh, I’m good,” I murmured, shaking my head. The only thing I could focus on was getting started.

Rebecca quickly handed Lucas a bottle of water and gestured to the door. “This way.”

She led us out of her office and downstairs, excitedly chattering about the men’s team, about the amazing coach who helped build the club into what it had become (a fellow American, she was excited to tell us), how much she adored the current coaching staff, and how she knew they’d be very helpful to Lucas and myself.

“Now, I know it’ll be a bit of a squeeze, having two clubs in the same facilities,” she went on as our little group continued its stroll. “But I know we’ll all just do our best, hmm?”

Lucas spoke up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Oh yeah. If it’s anything us Americans are known for, it’s sharing and selflessness.”

Everyone gave a light chuckle as we entered the locker room.

Two men stood in the middle of the room, decked out in A.F.C. Richmond gear. Rebecca quickly introduced Lucas and I to them.

“And this is Coach Beard,” she said, pointing to the one wearing a baseball cap. “And Coach Nate Shelley,” she continued, gesturing to the other man. “Coach Beard is from America as well,” she added with a tiny smile.

It took a moment for everyone to shake hands and offer awkward hellos and nice to meet yous.

Rebecca looked around, frowning. “Where’s-”

“Fuck, fuck, sorry, I was-”

A bearded man in dark clothing jogged in, looking absolutely ragged. His gaze darted around the room at everyone as we all stared back. When his eyes landed on me, they widened.

“Oh fuck.”

It was her. It was fucking her.

Roy felt like crawling into a hole and dying. He felt like turning around and running out of the room and not stopping until he reached Scotland, or he collapsed, whichever happened first. He felt like his knees were about to give out, and not because he’d just sprinted through the building, which he knew was a stupid idea. More than anything, he felt like a fucking idiot.

Standing in front of him with one eyebrow arched in amusement was the girl he’d talked to at the club. The one he’d been admittedly rude to. She looked so put together in her outfit and heels and red lipstick, while Roy was in his Richmond shirt and slightly sweating from dashing in from the pitch after he’d finally seen Keeley’s text to come to the changing room. He felt like an even bigger arse than he did the night before.

Rebecca cleared her throat, cool look on her face. “And this is our manager for the men’s side, Roy Kent.” She gestured to the woman and man- who Roy now recognized as the one she’d been giggling with at the club- and told Roy their names.

The woman stepped forward with a small smirk on her lips. “Roy Kent. Nice to officially meet you.” She extended her hand towards him.

Furrowing his brow, Roy reached out and shook her hand. “Right. So, you’re the-”

“First-ever manager of W.F.C. Richmond, yes,” she finished for him. She gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad to report that I survived the pain of being rejected,” she half-whispered.

Rebecca’s eyes darted between the two as the man- Lucas, apparently- held back laughter. “I’m sorry, have you two already met?” Confusion filled Rebecca’s question.

“Hmm?” The new coach turned to Rebecca. “Kind of. We bumped into each other last night while out on the town. I received a very warm welcome.” She raised a mocking eyebrow at Roy before looking back at Rebecca, all friendly smiles. “Should we continue?”

The group- Rebecca, Higgins, Keeley, and the Americans- exited the changing rooms through the offices, with Rebecca explaining how they’d be sharing: the Greyhounds in the larger office, the Whippets in the smaller one, since there were only the two of them. As their voices faded and left the offices, Beard gazed at Roy’s pale face carefully.

“Alright there, Coach?”

Roy grunted. “Was a bit of an ass when we bumped into each other at a club last night,” he admitted. “Didn’t fucking know it was her.”

Beard’s brows furrowed. “So, you didn’t read Keeley’s report.” Not a question; a statement. He gestured for Roy to follow him into their office, now holding three desks, and handed him the W.F.C. Richmond folder Keeley had given them, Nate trailing in after them.

Roy flipped through a couple of pages before finding the manager profile Keeley had probably worked hard on writing. Sure enough, there she was: the woman from the club smiling up at him, her name in big letters at the top of the page. The profile contained information on her college career, her time as a professional player, her success as a manager in the American women’s league, even her Olympic and World Cup appearances. Definitely not just some “young thing” trying to get five minutes of fame by flirting with him. Roy felt like a right prick skimming her remarkable career.

“She’s really impressive,” Nate chirped, as if it needed to be said. “We could probably learn a lot from her, hmm?”

Tossing the folder back on Beard’s desk, Roy gave another grunt, refusing to admit his embarrassment. “We’re fine,” he responded in a short tone. “Let’s get back out there, alright? I left Isaac and Jamie in charge, so they’re probably having a fucking break-dancing contest at this point.”

Lucas and I sat at my dining room table eating the dinner he’d brought over. It had been a busy day; touring Nelson Road, meeting the staff, making sure contracts were signed and players were ready to start training at the end of the week. The next day, we’d be going in for a press conference to introduce ourselves to the public. To prepare, I was drinking the largest glass of wine I could pour.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Lucas raised his eyebrows at me.

I put down my glass. “Talk about what?”

Lucas rested his face on his hands, gazing at me like a gossiping teenager. “Roy Kent.”

“What about Roy Kent?” I took another gulp of wine. “It’s not like we’re going to be coaching together. Does it really matter if I like him?”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Lucas hummed, earning a glare from me. “Hey, I’d be pissed too if he was rude to me.” He took a bite. “Can’t believe he didn’t know who you were.”

I shrugged and went back to my food. “Clearly the man didn’t read his report. I mean, he had to get one about us, right? We got one about them.”

I’d spent about half my flight to England reading and rereading the packet Keeley had sent us about A.F.C. Richmond. It was great: a short history of the team, a bit about each member of the coaching staff, brief player profiles. A perfect way to get to know our new neighbors before moving into Nelson Road. Not that I hadn’t done a little research on my own as soon as Rebecca sent me an official offer to lead the Whippets; indeed, I’d done a particularly deep dive into Roy Kent’s Wikipedia page and watched more than a few clips of him on YouTube, fascinated by his career and transition into coaching. Heck, I’d even pondered if maybe we could become friends eventually.

But he’d put a nail in that coffin at the club.

Whatever. Like it even mattered, I told myself. All I had to do was exist in the same space as the man, no more, no less. And I could handle that.

Right?

I’d get to find out the next morning. Again dressed professionally and deciding to continue rocking that red lipstick, I carried a small box of things into Nelson Road. Since the press conference wasn’t until late in the morning, I had decided that I could take advantage of what would probably be my last bit of free time to set up some things in my office, while my assistant coach opted to relax and take his time getting ready.

As I entered the locker room, several players were already in there, in various states of undress. All of them nodded or waved in friendly greetings, having been introduced to Lucas and me yesterday. They had been extraordinarily enthusiastic, especially considering they now had to share their stadium. I waved back, noting the big smile on one Jamie Tartt’s face- the one who’d been with Roy Kent at the club, the dreamy star player I’d read all about. I grinned at the men, relieved that at least they were friendly.

On the other hand, when I entered the coaches’ office, all talking ceased immediately.

From his seat, with his feet atop his desk, Roy Kent glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth in a perfectly straight line beneath his beard. He’d been saying something to the other two but had halted as soon as I entered. I raised my eyebrow at him in response, feeling like those muscles in my face would be getting a good workout in the coming weeks.

“Morning,” I hummed, mostly to Beard and Nate. Nate waved cheerfully while Beard gave a friendly salute. Only Roy continued to ignore me.

Before I could step through into my new office, Nate’s voice called out, “Got your press conference today, right?”

I turned over my shoulder and looked at him, a little surprised by his friendly tone and the genuine interest on his face. “Yeah, not til later this morning though. Figured I’d set up some things in the office, make myself at home.”

Beard leaned back in his seat. “If you need help with anything, just ask. We’ll be in the weight room this morning.”

“Thanks,” I said with a nod. Okay, so not all the Greyhound coaches sucked. That was good to know.

I strolled into my new office, wrinkling my nose when I realized my desk had a direct view of Roy Kent’s desk, where he continued to avoid looking at me. Ignoring my observation, I set down my box and started pulling things out, arranging them the way I’d had them in my old office: soccer ball-shaped pencil holder a friend had bought me back in high school, framed photo of my family, my first ever AYSO trophy.

My heart skipped a beat when I pulled out a frame. It held my prized possession: the Sports Illustrated cover featuring Brandi Chastain, on her knees, black sports bra exposed, celebrating her penalty kick that won the 1999 World Cup, signed by the woman herself. It had hung in my bedroom, my college dorm, and eventually my office. It had served for many years as motivation, as something I aspired to. Now, it was my daily reminder of why I loved coaching- to help others achieve their big dreams.

I looked back in the box. Crap. I’d tossed in a couple nails but had forgotten to grab a hammer.

“Hey, Coach Beard?” Clutching the framed magazine, I poked my head into the Greyhounds’ office. The only one in there was Roy, who was thumbing through a notebook and mumbling to himself.

His eyes flickered up at me. He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement and went back to his notebook.

I sighed, not surprised by his lackluster greeting. “Do you guys have a hammer? I’m trying to put something up.”

Still not even glancing at me, Roy walked around to one of the other desks, yanking open a drawer, and pulling out a hammer, slamming it on top of the desk. “There,” he muttered.

“Thanks.” I stepped over and grabbed the hammer. Deciding to play his game of not looking at each other, I let my eyes flitter over to the wall behind his desk. I choked a little trying to hide my laughter. “What the fuck is that?”

Roy’s eyes followed mine to the… anatomical drawing behind his desk, a black strip of tape over it. “My niece drew it,” he answered matter-of-factly. “She’s eight.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Your eight-year-old niece drew the best tits I’ve ever seen in my life?”

A snort flew out of Roy’s nose, the friendliest noise I’d heard from him. “And just how many tits have you seen?”

Unable to help myself, I smirked. “I was a professional soccer player,” I reminded him. “I’ve been in plenty of locker rooms with other women.”

“Is that why you’re hanging that thing in your office?” He gestured to the magazine in my hands.

I raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “That’s Brandi Chastain,” I answered plainly. “She’s an Olympic gold medalist.”

“Right.” His steely gaze finally met mine, sending a jolt to my system that I did my best to ignore. “American, I assume?”

“Obviously,” I answered, feeling that defensiveness I had as a kid, arguing against the boys on the playground about whether I could play sports with them at recess. “Only the best women’s soccer team in the world.”

He snorted again. “Can’t be that great if you can’t call it the right fucking name.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure if my tone was friendly or defensive. “Oh, I’m sorry, where’s your Olympic gold medal? Because mine’s in my living room, but I could bring it in if you’d ever like to see one in person.”

Something in his face changed, effectively ending the almost-nice interaction we were having. “Leave the hammer when you’re done,” he mumbled, turning and trudging out of the room, not looking me in the eye.

“Alrighty then,” I mumbled to myself, twirling the hammer in my hand. With a shrug, I turned back to my office, wondering if Roy Kent was capable of having a civil conversation.

Roy lumbered into the weight room, where Beard and Nate were supervising various workouts. His body felt heavy, and his chest felt tight. The Dog Track suddenly felt too crowded, too filled with her and her ego. That was it: her cockiness. Roy found it off-putting. That’s what had him feeling so twisted. The feeling in his stomach had absolutely nothing to do with that red lipstick she wore or the fact that she smelled far better than any other coach he’d ever met. Like fucking vanilla.

Both coaches nodded to Roy as he approached.

He grunted in place of a greeting. “Sorry, someone needed a fucking hammer. And then couldn’t shut up about her fucking Olympic gold medal.” Roy ignored the fact that, if he had one, he’d never stop talking about it. Hell, he still managed to bring up his time playing for England in casual conversation whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Beard continued to observe the workouts, only half interested in Roy’s complaining. “What’d she need a hammer for?”

“To put up some poster or some shit.” He folded his arms, scowling. “Didn’t know we were allowed to nail things into the fucking walls. Thought we were supposed to use that putty shit. Not leave holes in the walls.”

Now he had Beard’s attention. “Roy, you’ve punched holes into the walls.” To punctuate his point, Beard nodded towards the patch of recently fixed wall that still needed to be painted over.

Trying to keep things light, Nate piped up. “What was the poster?”

Fucking really? “Dunno,” Roy grumbled. “Some lady footballer.”

Beard raised an eyebrow. “Mia Hamm? Megan Rapinoe?”

“Fuck if I know,” Roy muttered, secretly racking his brain for the name she’d mentioned. “Didn’t really care enough to fucking listen.”

Pulling his cap over his eyes, despite being inside, Beard let out a little hum. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Oi! Turn up the volume, bruv!” Isaac called from his treadmill. “Wanna hear this.”

The guys paused their workouts to turn their gazes to the television, where the W.F.C. Richmond press conference played on the screen.

Roy narrowed his eyes as he observed the way she was dressed, in her blazer and red lipstick. She looked professional. More professional than he ever looked at press conferences. He found himself wondering if that’s how she dressed for matches, and whether that meant he should dress better on the pitch too. And fuck, she looked confident in front of all those cameras. He had yet to figure out how to look that comfortable.

A reporter’s voice filled the room. “You just made a big move, leaving the NWSL to come start a brand-new team. Why’d you do it?”

She looked thoughtful. Almost pretty with the way her eyes lit up before she spoke. “Well, let’s be really honest. The United States has the greatest women’s soccer team in the world-” The reporters hollered playfully at her. “Hey, sorry, it’s true!” She chuckled. “So, we’ve got the best team in the world, World Cup and Olympic champions how many times over, incredible athletes. But no one cares. Over here, though, soccer is a freaking religion. It’s everything. I’m excited to be in a place where people love the sport as much as the players on the field do. Who love it as much as I do.”

There was a murmuring of approval among the guys in the weight room.

Except for one person. Roy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fucking soccer,” he muttered. “It’s football, fucking Yank.” He glanced at Beard, who shot him pointed look, reminding Roy of his own nationality. “Sorry,” he mumbled, properly shamed.

“What do you think you’ll bring to the new club? Why are you worth importing from the States?”

Roy snorted. Great, an opportunity for her to brag about herself.

Sure enough, a cocky expression crossed her face. “Is it cheeky or just plain arrogant if I say my gold medal and World Cup title?” There was good-natured tittering both from the journalists on television and among the Richmond players in the weight room. “No, actually I think in this case my coaching record really speaks for itself more than my time playing. I’ve been fortunate to lead my team back home to some great successes, and I’m looking forward to doing the same with Richmond.” She looked reflective for a moment. “And I’m young. I started as one of the youngest coaches in the U.S., in both men and women’s soccer. So, I can only keep growing as a coach. I’m only going to get better, get smarter. And this guy here?” She gestured to Lucas, who sat beside her, pride shining in his eyes as he watched her. “Incredible coach. Coach Lucas Austen has been the best kept secret in college soccer for years. I’ve played for this man myself, so I speak from experience when I say he’ll bring out the best in each and every player, as well as everyone lucky enough to watch his magic, most especially myself.”

Nate gave out a low whistle. “She’s fabulous to listen to. So at ease.”

Not willing to acknowledge Nate’s praise, Roy turned to Beard. “Are she and he… are they…?” He nodded towards the television, where the two Americans exchanged smiles as Lucas now sang the young manager’s praises, telling some charming story from his time coaching her.

Beard scoffed. “I doubt it, she’s not exactly his type.”

It took Roy a moment. “Oh. And is he… her type?” Roy couldn’t figure out why he was asking. He didn’t really care. Right?

“She’s dated men, if that’s what you’re asking,” Beard said, looking at Roy with skepticism. “There are straight and bisexual women in sports, you know.”

“I know.” Roy hated the way Beard was looking at him.

But apparently, Beard wasn’t done educating Roy. “And men and women can be just friends. Look at Ted and Rebecca. You and Keeley. Leo and Kate.”

“Leonardo DiCaprio is absolutely in love with Kate Winslet,” Colin shouted across the room, where he was leaning against a wall with Sam, eyes still glued to the television.

Roy scowled. “Back to your fucking workouts before I have Will shove all your boots up your arses!”

Poor Will, who happened to be strolling by the open door on his way to the boot room, picked up his pace, unsure if he preferred doing as Roy demanded or telling the manager “No”. Both sounded horrifying.

With the workouts resumed, Roy turned back to the screen, scowl deepening when his eyes lingered a moment too long on her smiling red lips.

“Are you bringing that nickname of yours over to this side of the pond?”

Her smile widened. “Only to make your jobs easier. ‘Coach Bucky gets lucky’ is a great headline.” She winked, a sight that caused Roy’s breath to stop for a moment. “Although I’d hate to think what else you all could find to rhyme with Buck.”

“What kind of fucking nickname is that?” Roy mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed.

As if reading Roy Kent’s mind, a reporter called out, “Where’d the name come from anyway?”

Wistfulness crossed her face as she paused for a moment. “My grandfather,” she answered quietly. She spoke slowly, hesitating for the first time. “When I started playing, he kept calling me ‘Plucky Bucky’, because of my positive attitude. Said he liked the way I never gave up when things got hard.” She let out a soft breath. “Silly. But my teammates and coaches picked up on it so….” She shrugged. “Coach Buck remains. It’s a nice reminder of the man who made me fall in love with the sport.”

Something tugged in Roy’s stomach at the word “grandfather”. Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid nickname after all.

“I think we’ve got time for one more question.” Keeley’s bright voice brought Roy’s attention back to the television.

A reporter piped up. “What’s your goal this year? Brand new team, are you just looking to get comfortable, get your bearings?”

The manager grinned, that cocky look in her eye again. “We’re not here for comfortable. We’re here for greatness.” She cleared her throat, smirking at Lucas before facing the cameras again. “We’re looking to be the first Richmond team to win the whole damn thing.”

Keeley, Lucas, and I exchanged high-fives as we walked out of the press room. Doing press conferences wasn’t unusual to me at all, but doing one in a new country was a bit overwhelming. But Keeley had prepared me well, and the journalists weren’t as intimidating as I’d expected. Of course, we’d see how they were once the season was underway and the Whippets were actually playing.

“You were great, babes!” Keeley assured me as we made our way to the coaching offices. “Seriously, if you do that in every press conference, you’ll make my job so easy.” She attempted an American accent as she continued, “We’re not here for comfortable, we’re here for greatness.” She shook her head. “Perfect soundbite!”

Lucas nodded. “Especially that part about being the first Richmond team to win the whole thing? Excellent. Not sure if the guys’ll like it, but I loved it.”

I cleared my throat as we passed the weight room. “We’ll see,” was all I could manage. I hadn’t thought of whether those words would offend the men’s side.

“Oi! Coach!” Jamie Tartt poked his head out of the weight room. “Great job in your press conference!”

“Thanks,” I replied, unable to stop myself from returning his bright smile, which assured me that I’d at least avoided insulting him. “Glad you guys caught some of it.”

Another man joined him, his hair tied in a bun at the base of his neck. Dani, if I remembered correctly. “May we call you Coach Buck too?” His eyes shone with excitement.

His boyish earnestness made me laugh. “Um, yeah, if you guys want to.”

“Sick!” Jamie interjected, sticking his tongue out. “Roy never lets us give him nicknames. Although I like to call him-”

“Oi!” I ignored the way Roy Kent’s gruff voice made my heart skip a beat. “What the fuck are you two doing?” He marched over, his scowl only growing when he saw me. He turned to his players. “Is our fucking training interrupting you two ogling over the shiny new toy?”

My own brow furrowed as I stepped closer to him, our quickly reddening faces inches away from each other. “Shiny new toy?” I sputtered, feeling his breath against my face and not caring that he could feel mine or if he could hear my heart slamming against my chest. “Wait a fucking-”

“Stop distracting my players,” he continued, his eyes dark. At this proximity, I could see the laugh lines on his face, evidence that he actually knew how to smile. “Worry about your own fucking team.”

Before I could say another word, Keeley hooked her arm through mine and gave a tug. “Alright, coaches, lovely chat but we should get going,” she hummed, clearly trying to diffuse whatever the fuck was happening between me and Roy Kent. “Greyhounds, we will see you later, yeah?”

With a deep grunt, Roy turned back to the weight room. “Whistle!” he bellowed. “Everyone on the pitch! Jamie’s leading you in fucking burpees!”

The sound of groaning filled the halls as Keeley yanked me away, Lucas on my heels looking amused. Keeley didn’t stop pulling until we were back in my office; the walk had done nothing to calm me down as Keeley leaned against my desk. Lucas sat in his chair, watching me with raised eyebrows. My pounding heart felt as if I’d just sprinted from one goal to another.

“Well, that was fun,” Lucas finally said in a light tone after watching me pace silently back and forth for a minute.

“Yeah, what was that?” Keeley squeaked. “I know Roy can be a bit rough. But that was…. interesting.”

Lucas smirked now. “I think someone’s still mad Roy Kent didn’t recognize her at the club. And didn’t want to dance with her.”

That broke my silence. “As if,” I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest indignantly. “I wouldn’t dance with Roy Kent if he was the last man on earth, with his fucking black clothes and fucking growling and-”

“Wait, wait, what’s this about a club?” Curiosity covered Keeley’s face.

Before I could answer, Lucas spoke up. “Alright, so we went out the night before we started here, just to relax a bit. And this one went to grab a drink and ran into none other than Roy Kent himself.” He chuckled. “And Kent had no idea who she was, he thought she was just some girl who wanted to dance.”

I cleared my throat. “To be fair, it took me a moment to realize who he was too. Stupid dark lighting and all.”

Lucas continued. “Then she overheard him tell Jamie Tartt, that, oh what was it?” He looked at me expectantly.

He’d finally gotten me to crack a smile. “I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends,” I growled, doing my best impression of the man I now officially couldn’t stand.

Even Keeley snickered. “Shit, that’s pretty good!”

“And he just kept digging himself into this hole,” Lucas went on. “Until finally, she compares him to Johnny Cash, says she’s not interested, almost tells him she knows who he is but decides not to give him the satisfaction, and struts off.” He wrapped an arm around me. “Then of course she surprises the hell out of him the next morning. Leaves him with his jaw on the floor while she’s cool and collected. It was stunning, truly.” He gave me a squeeze. “Plucky Bucky indeed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, fun story, but no, I’m not bitter about not being recognized. I didn’t even get recognized back home when I was on a World Cup winning team, it’s hard to expect people here to give a shit who I am.”

“They will,” Keeley piped up. “You start winning, they’ll care. You’re gorgeous and charming and a world champion. And an American to boot, that’s always amusing. All you need now is a winning record on this side of the pond. Rebecca and I think you’re going to put W.F.C. Richmond on the map, and hopefully raise interest in women’s soccer in general while you’re at it.”

“No pressure,” Lucas added with a chuckle.

I sighed. This move was hard enough; leaving behind my home, my country, my family, my team. Leaving behind things I’d spent years building. And now, I was in a brand-new country, building something from scratch with wonderful strangers and the one person who knew me better than anyone else. Add to all of it the burden of being a woman in sports and the desire to have people take it seriously, and I was already feeling the pressure.

And Roy fucking Kent wasn’t helping with any of it.

#Roy Kent Something There #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fanfiction

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ridestomars · 9 months

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What about Steve trying to teach his 4 year old daughter how to swim and maybe he’s really comforting

this is so sweet :(

steve always dreamt of practicing sports with his future kids. he had spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about future scenarios where he teaches his children how to dribble, or maybe how to hold a baseball bat without being brought down by its weight.

but throughout all of those years he spent thinking about being the cool athletic dad, he had never even phantom the idea of teaching his daughter how to swim because she wants to be a mermaid. there's nothing wrong with it, but he thinks she might be watching the little mermaid a bit too much lately.

being who he is, he also would never imagine saying 'no' to his little girl. especially when she had asked him so sweetly, with the brightest, most excited smile on her face. and that is why he's standing in the pool, with amelia in his arms, leaning her back on his chest. she doesn't seem to like it, because she keeps whining and kicking her little legs. well, the kicks were part of the exercise, but the strength she was using certainly was not. the water splashed everywhere, and even steve's face was starting to get wet.

"it's fine, cutie," steve holds amelia tight to his chest, standing by the middle of the swimming pool, trying to get her used to being inside the water.

"it's not fine, daddy! it's cold!" the little girl exclaims, her legs already kicking heavily against the water. her voice starting to crack right at the end, which was a clear sign of 'caution: temper tantrum incoming'.

"millie, sweetheart, we haven't even started yet," soft-spoken, his voice feels almost like a warm hug. it does calm her down a little, but it doesn't mean steve's completely off the hook yet.

amelia had a natural short temper that could only be controlled by her father. it was almost like an unspoken thing between the two of them; she would whine and complain when things didn't go how she wanted, and steve always soothed it all, as his patience would miraculously grow infinite.

she scrunches her nose, another indication of her grumpiness. "can i sit down by the edge, please?" amelia was always very polite when upset, and it never failed to amuse him.

nodding, he walks with her to the edge of the pool, sitting her small body there, with little effort. catching sight of her pouty face, the dad asks, "what's with the frown, pumpkin? don't wanna be a mermaid no more?"

"it's just... cold".

"uh huh," steve doesn't buy it for a second, especially when he notices the hesitancy on her brown eyes, growing to be so similar to his. "it has nothing to do with you starting to get scared, does it?"

she widens her eyes at him, like he had just figured out the only secret she was trying to hide. overdramatic, as always. with her chubby cheeks reddening, amy shakes her head, denying it, but the bashful smile on her lips tells steve otherwise.

"there's nothing to be afraid of, cutie. it's just water," he shrugs a little, trying to ease her fear, "you take baths all the time, you know how it's like".

"daddy, it's not the same!" she says through an adorable fit of giggles. steve playfully rolls his eyes, making her laugh even more.

"yeah, yeah, it is," smiling, he puts one of his hands on his hip, looking at her as she calms down. "what you're scared of? is it because it's deep?"

more comfortable now, amelia nods her head, but she feels like adding, "i don't want to get water up my nose".

steve's eyebrows shot up, surprised by the discovery. "we can fix that, mills. d'you trust me?"

the little girl eagerly nods her head, getting excited all over again, just like she was this morning. steve gives her a short chuckle.

"alright. so, you have to hold your breath. like this," he shows her by taking a big inhale, stuffing his stomach, and puffing his cheeks, holding the air in. he watches as his daughter does the same, and he nods approvingly, "and when you come back up from the water, you just..."

steve lets out the remaining air from his lungs in a loud exhale, and amelia copies him, her reddened cheeks flattening again.

"wanna try going for a dip? i'll hold you," steve suggests, just to see if she is willing to attempt. when she comes back up, he'll continue the failed kicks practice.

luckily for him, just the proposal is enough for her to smile with delight, thrilled to get to try it. and watching the way her eyes light up, is enough to make his upper body shake with laughter.

"alright. c'mon now, ariel," he holds his arms out for her.

#not proofread #why be sad when you could be dad #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #dad!steve #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington x you #liv answers #liv talks about stevie

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

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You said you wanted sub!Larissa Weems requests and I had to share an idea I had with you. Maybe you could write one where Larissa has a bad mental-health day (feeling insecure about her body, ect.) and fem!reader shows her how truly -fucking- beautiful she really is. I'm sorry if it's a little vague. I was thinking a fuck-ton of praise with a twist of degradation with the use of "my pretty little slut" or something similar, maybe some begging but the reader doesn't ask her to, Larissa just does because she's caught in the moment? Sprinkle in some overstimulation and the reader calling her "Angel"? I haven't requested something in FOREVER so excuse me if I sound a little off. Thanks! X

Hello there anon (: Thanks for the request! I absolutely love this and am most definitely writing on this idea. Thanks for your patience, Hope you enjoy it ☺️ P.S. I picked out a song to go along with this Fic 😉💕

Relax, Angel ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fingering, use of handcuffs, use of blindfolds, use of vibrators, over-stimulation, degrading kink, praise kink, fluff, etc.

Enjoy (;

This monster plus Wednesday Addams had really been getting to Larissa as of yet. She spent way more time in her office, holed up. You swear you saw her hands trembling 24/7 nowadays…

You had finished up all your classes for the day and walked over to Larissa’s office like always.

“Hey, love…” you cooed, walking over to a hunched over, working Larissa.

Larissa merely hummed in response. You came up from behind her, wrapping your arms around her neck, kissing her exposed skin.

“Sorry Darling, I have a lot of work to do… I’ll probably be working for a couple more hours, meet you in bed?” She hummed.

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too, Darling.”

You spent your evening grading papers and waiting for Larissa. Eventually, you finished all your grading and moved on to reading. Before you knew it, it was 2am and your eyes were getting heavy.

But you wanted to wait for Rissa.

At about 2:30, you heard the door click open. Your head shot up, as Larissa crept into your shared quarters.

“Hey…” you sleepily cooed.

“Hey.” Larissa dejectingly responded.

Her body movement was slow and down… Her lips was quivering int he slightest manner… Her hands were trembling… Your body jolted awake even more now at the sight of your Rissa.

“Hey, What’s up?” You asked, voice full of concern and care.

You immediately brought her over to your shared bed, embracing her. A tear left Larissa’s eye. Followed by another. And another.

“Oh my, love, what’s wrong? I’m here, talk to me…” you pleaded, hating seeing your lover like this.

“I… It’s…” Larissa chocked through sobs, “It’s just… all too much…I’m not enough…”

You cupped Larissa’s cheeks, moving her eyes to meet yours. Tears started to brim on your own eyes at the sight of Larissa.

“You. Are. Enough.” You almost violently spoke out, against all the negativity being fed to your beautiful wife.

“You are a fucking goddess. Fucking stunning.” You whispered, placing your forehead against hers.

Larissa whimpered, slowly ghosting her lips with yours.

“Oh is that what you want?” You teasingly cooed.

Larissa desperately nodded with a small whimper following. She then closed the gap, connecting her red lips with your soft, caring ones.

“I’ll show my angel just how fucking beautiful she is.” You whispered into Larissa’s ear.

You could hear Larissa audibly gulp at this. You lightly chuckled at this.

“Im gonna unzip your fucking amazing dress, alright?” You purred, “Because as much as I love you in it… I’d love it even more with it on the floor…”

Another whimper escaped Larissa’s lips.

“Words, Angel. I need words.”

“Yes, please… god yes…” Larissa whispered into your mouth.

Then you dragged the zipper down her neck and down her back. Slowly, you undressed her goddess frame, until Larissa was left in her undergarments.

“God, your so beautiful…” you blurted out.

Larissa blushed at this, trying to hide her body from you.

“No no no…” you tutted her off, placing your hands on her shoulders and pushing her gently below you onto the bridge.

“You’re a motherfucking goddess, you don’t get to hide your body from me…” you purred, starting to kiss Larissa’s body from the neck to her hands to her stomach to her legs and her thighs…

By the time you got down to her thighs, Larissa started bucking her hips more and her breath was getting more shallow.

“Please… please… please…” she mewled.

“Awww, does my pretty little slut want me to fuck her?” You purred.

Larissa pouted her lips and whined, “god yes please… fuck me…!!”

You hummed in delight, dragging your finger through her throbbing cunt.

Larissa cried out, grabbing your hair and wrapping her legs around your head, “Oh god, yes! Fuck yes…!”

You then added a second finger and started to pump into her pussy at a steady pace, electing many more moans and mewls from Larissa’s lips.

And pretty soon, Larissa’s legs were shaking and were breath was becoming more and more erratic.

“Is my pretty little slut gonna cum for me?” You purred.

“Yes! GOD YES…!!!” Larissa cried out, “I’m so close, please!!”

Larissa came on your fingers like a fucking goddess. She was fucking sight to see…

“That’s it Angel, cum on my fingers…” you purred, as you helped draw out and then help her down from her climax.

~~~

Before you knew it, it was 6am, and you had made Larissa scream from multiple orgasms. Handcuffs, vibrators, and a blindfold were spread all across the bed. The last stroke you swiped against her clit, made Larissa cry out in over-stimulant pleasure. Cuddling up next to Larissa, you held her.

“Your so fucking beautiful, don’t let anyone convince you otherwise…” you whispered into her ear.

You thought Larissa had drifted off but she whispered back to you, “Thank you.”

“Anytime Angel. Anytime.”

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vitaminseetarot · 10 months

Text

Quick General Advice for Your Situation (PAC)

One thing I want to mention is that all three piles had earthy palette cards with something spicy on the back of each pile's deck. This could have been the influence of Moon in Taurus as the lunar nodes are beginning to switch over to Aries. I'm sending frustration with all three piles but also a lot of passion and motivation.

Pick which earthy palette color you prefer for some quick guidance.

(piles 1, 2, 3 - images from pexels.com)

Spring Grass: XV Devil, Page of Swords, III Empress (Back: 3 of Wands)

The energy you're building up is leading you to seek out or attract new opportunities to travel to places you haven't experienced before. I'm sensing a strong draw towards what's new at this time, so it could be literal travel or you're seeking out a new experience overall. This could be a radical change from what you're used to. If you feel you're not in any position to travel soon, this may still be your pile, so hang on! Don't feel stuck! I'm letting you know now that plans can change quickly and spawn out of nowhere just as quickly. Your advice is to be in a state of expansion and open mindedness. Although 3 of wands is Aries energy, you're being asked to step into more Sagittarian energy of enthusiasm for adventure and optimism for brighter times. There might be a long period of time where this traveling doesn't happen even when you finally get itchy for it. That's because you need to sit down and do some planning. Make an itinerary, even for a fake trip. Look up photos, have conversations with people about it. Get in the mindset for it. Yes, it's possible to experience the impossible. But you have to be in a state of preparedness for it. Get your basic needs in working order so that when the opportunity does arrive, you'll be more than ready for it, inside and out.

Pink Quartz: Hermit, XIII Death, XVIII Moon (Back: 5 of Wands)

Even though you feel motivated enough to move forward, there's still tiny threads trying to pull you back into overthinking things. It can feel like you're busy when in reality your plans go nowhere because they're dead on arrival. It's one thing to be sparked by an idea, it's another to put it to print without losing what made you want to do it to begin with. I'm seeing an image of somebody sitting hunched over at their bench, writing down one sentence on a sheet of paper before crumpling it and starting again. This isn't a healthy mentality as you're not giving you and your imagination a chance. Your advice to be kinder to yourself by giving your inner vision more space to breathe. Being in stillness and sitting back with a blank canvas is part of the creation process and is in the end more productive than deleting the first page of your book over and over again. You have all three cards as major arcana, so learning this lesson will prove to be monumental to your life's overall progress.

Stone Brown: IV Emperor, III Empress, 7 of Swords (Back: 7 of Wands)

I think this pile is definitely experienced when it comes to making big plans and carrying them through. It seems the one thing that motivates you most is the feeling of "this has to be done, whether or not I like it." You put on a strict poker face only to fall apart as soon as no one's looking. Please let me tell you, pile 3, that you do not always have to be strong for everyone else. It's beautiful for you to see yourself as an important part of what makes life work, that your skills and patience are needed and appreciated. But all the praise in the world won't make up for that hollow feeling of coming home and realizing that you have to be strong for yourself, too. Your advice is similar to pile 2. You need to greatly soften your approach. Allow other people to pick up the pace and help you every now and then. Especially if there are many moving parts and you get into "octopus mode" of needing to be involved in all the cogs of the wheel. It shouldn't always be equal work, going out and dealing with people, then dealing with yourself. When you need time for yourself, take the chance. Ground yourself through nurturing and soothing habits at home, something that lets you take off the "big boss" mask for a while.

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neonscandal · 4 months

Note

This week is Sk8 3rd anniversary.... So for celebrating, can I ask a few things :

-Who are your fav character from this series? Why?

-What are your fav moments from this series? -What are your opinions on this fandom's famous ships : Reki/ Langa, Cherry/ Joe, Adam/ Tadashi?

Season 2 and an OVA are coming (eventually)! Which is more than we can say for other series' so I'm going to remain delusionally hopeful. I think it'd be nice if, instead of announcing long awaited continuations, new seasons dropped like Beyonce albums. Without warning and like an unexpected blessing. Just like this ask so thank you for reaching out!

FAVORITE CHARACTER

Sk8 has a wonderful band of idiots who I adore but Cherry is, by far, my favorite. Most specifically through the interactions he has with Joe because they are just so catty and mean to one another but you just know it belies an affection from their entrenched history together whether you consider them a ship them or not.

I love that Cherry had this rebellious era and continues to do so as a respectable adult while juggling such a disciplined craft and career. Like, that dichotomy is just 😘👌🏾. Goals, honestly. He maintains this split by ensuring that his S persona and his everyday persona remain mutually exclusive similar to how Adam conducts himself. Which, now that I'm thinking about it, might be kind of sad but he is, somewhat, of a man of contrasts.

Like, the way his talents splinter is so interesting. He is a founding member of S wherein he remains a threat, an established and respected calligrapher... plus, I feel like he customized Carla himself. What a nerd! Plus, Cherry is so gender. ✨

THOUGHTS ON SHIPS

Reki & Langa - idiot x idiot, I love it? But also, how silly to show someone something you love so intensely only for that love to envelope them so completely. Both in how they receive your hobby but also in how they just become a part of your life. Plus, Langa sees Reki's strengths that he takes for granted and its so necessary because they both think the sun shines out of each others' ass. Also, I see them as a reincarnation of AshEiji from Banana Fish.

Cherry & Joe - Yes. Was that not evident from above? Yes. They fight like an old (and sassy) married couple and then will have a moment of saccharine sweetness that's just... too much. There's also a hilarious sense of patience Joe must have to adapt to Cherry vs. Kaoru and its more evident because there's who the pair are when they are around others, regardless of who the others are, and then who they are when they're alone. Like, why put on the act, guys? Just kiss already.

Adam & Tadashi - As long as it's consensual, I guess, but I'm sure Tadashi could do better.

Oka & Shadow - Okay, but go with me here. Please thank the chokehold umikochannart had on keeping this ship sailing before they wiped their IG of all evidence.

Adding a few other artists guaranteed to give you the brainrot because I fell down a rabbit hole while looking for umikochann and fan artists deserve so much appreciation for covering the spread when we are awaiting new content so go follow them and join their patreons, buy them a kofi and bark on all their posts because we are not deserving of their labor: angrymorilas, bunbun.ji, @pochiikou and @ratcarney IG.

These artists are my gift to you. As a gift, that means that we should love and appreciate the people whose talents enable us to experience the characters we love even more and be thankful for, however long the stretch, the time that our favorite characters and ships were their muses. And to subsequently not be a prick when their muse changes.

⚠️ Spoiler warning for S1 of SK8 the Infinity anime.

FAVORITE MOMENTS

"Push me, Reki." - needs no explanation.

Reki defending Miya's honor - When you see Miya's backstory, his isolation is really sad and makes him vulnerable to Adam's predation but Reki punched well above his weight to defend Miya and it effectively brought the kid into the fold and I loved that. And that's on the power of friendship. ✨ Reki really subjugated everyone in that friend group and is not appreciated enough for it.

When everyone cockblocked Joe - Not every show needs a beach episode. This one does.

Sia La Luce after hours - the fact that Kaoru, after being bride carried by Joe, broke out of the hospital just to go running back to Joe is just so... beautifully chaotic and unexpected. Add a zest of Jonah Scott murmuring "We're not alone, right, Kaoru?" and I am undone.

When the might of Reki's rain wheels kicked in - Overcame insecurity by utilizing the gift he'd had all along? AGH. So perfect, so proud.

When Reki's laughter melts into that of young Adam's - only because that was really sweet

Not in the show but: sharing this series with my niece and nephew and them loving it just as much as I do. They're pretty young so the Venn Diagram of "Shows I Love" vs "Shows I Can Share With Them As A Discerning Adult" has a pretty narrow overlap. So imagine my surprise when my nephew randomly makes a SK8 joke or observation or when my niece drew fan art of Carla? We also sing and dance and laugh during the intro and outtro so I hope they remember the series affectionately when they're older.

#neon asks #anon asks #sk8 the infinity #matchablossom #renga #kaoru sakurayashiki #sakurayashiki kaoru #kojiro nanjo #nanjo kojiro #reki kyan #kyan reki #langa hasegawa #hasegawa langa #miya chinen #chinen miya #oka shokichi #shokichi oka #hiromi higa #higa hiromi

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the-dreaming-library · 10 months

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I’m looking for a sort-of fishbowl rescue where Alex ends up painting the orb completely black and it ends up getting sold in an estate sale and bought by Hob and his boyfriend of the time.

It is a specific one, but I’m also happy with any recs for fics with a similar premise, where Hob somehow comes into possession of Dream either unknowingly or with the intent of freeing him

I haven't been able to find this exact fic, maybe another Dreamer has? But I can absolutely recommend accidental Dream rescue/acquisitions! Please mind the tags on these ones, they can get heavy and have some triggering themes. They're worth reading, but look after yourselves!

The first is the fic your ask reminded me of instantly. It doesn't have Alex painting the cage black, but it does feature an estate sale, a Hob rescue and the cage being altered:

The End Of All Things by Ranchdiip Words: 13,149 (WIP)

Graphic depictions of violence

There’s not much use thinking about those times, anymore. He will always be Hob Gadling, but the biggest part of what that used to entail had stormed away on a rainy night like this one hundred and thirty years ago, and hadn’t come back.

Hob remembers the ache in his chest in 1989. He remembers the glow of the pub, so much warmer than the pale light cutting across the alley now. He remembers staring at that empty chair for hours—first with anxiety, then with concern, and eventually with bitterness.

“You dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship.”

Hob had dared, and he’d paid for it.

He’d walked out of that pub in 1989 and not looked back.

It's 2020, and Hob Gadling is old, tired, and bitter, dancing the waltz of London's underground black market. Word has spread about something from the Burgess Estate going to auction, and who is Hob to deny himself and his team the opportunity to get their hands on it?

Rated M, Dream/Hob

Let Your Morning Fall Upon Me by Mywayornorway Words: 20886

Graphic Depictions of Violence, Heavy Angst, Please mind the tags

Utterly enraged by Dream's refusal to grant him his wishes, Roderick Burgess finds new joy in torturing his unwilling guest. If he can't get the Endless to talk, perhaps he can make it scream instead.

That is, until his patience comes to an end and he gifts Dream to the next best person who comes along: Hob Gadling.

Rated E, Dream/Hob

And a more light-hearted but no less brilliant fic than the previous two recs:

A Lucky Break(out) by Cuubism Words: 9892

Hob acquires a familiar ruby at an antiquities sale. Said ruby summons something else into his home as well.

Rated T, Dream/Hob

#fic recs #lost fic #anon #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction #fishbowl rescue #the dreaming library

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call-me-copycat · 1 year

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Hiii Copycat! ^-^ I was hoping I could make a request? I was hoping for angst to fluff? With Aizawa who takes in/adopts a vigilante reader with an illusion quirk? And maybe she starts to develop a crush on Shinso too?? Thank you!! <3

Hello there! First of all, I saw your ask as soon as you sent it, but the reason I didn't respond was because my phone was (and still is) broken, but it's getting repaired, so I can respond now. Also I only have a phone, no computer or anything, so it's a bit hard, but I'm working on it! (o´Д`)=з

I'm very sorry for the wait, and I apologize again because there will still be more waiting until I finish the story, but I promise you it'll be worth the wait! I'm already nearing 14k words, and it's still going. I can't thank you enough for your patience, along with the fact that you're the first one to ever give me a request, so thank you very much! And feel free to request whenever you'd like, I really enjoy getting to write stories for people, and it makes my day, so you don't need to hesitate! (*´∇｀*)

Anyways, since I'm still working on the story, I originally wanted to post it all once it was done, but then I decided that since it might take awhile I'll post the first part and see what you think. I actually really like this idea because I was thinking something very similar to it around the time of your request. I hope you enjoy this bit, and please remember, I haven't forgotten, I'm just trying to work with a broken phone so it's a bit difficult, but it's advancing greatly and shouldn't be too long of a wait anymore. Thank you for your patience! ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

Escaping The Night (Part 1)

Welcome! - Introduction and Request rules (Important if you want me to write for you or if you want to know who I am)

▶ Characters: Shinso x Fem reader (although I used "they" in some areas) + Father/Mentor Aizawa

▶ Genre: Angst to Fluff

▶ Summary: Teenager Reader is a Vigilante that roams the streets with their friends, always on the lookout for crime and injustice. However, something disrupts Reader's world when they get themselves captured by the police. What will happen to them next?

▶ Warnings:

- Panic attack

- Reader got hit with a tranquilizer

- And an extra warning because I had to make a few characters just for this story (not necessarily OC's, just background characters. I know some people greatly dislike this so this is a warning, even though they're not that important).

- Also since this is part 1, you won't see Aizawa mainly until part 2, and Shinso is a bit further ahead. Another warning for those that don't like to get into a story and then have to wait

▶ Word Count: 3,201

➤ {This is Part 1}

➜ [Part 2]

➜ [Part 3]

➜ [Part 4]

➜ [Part 5]

➜ [Part 6]

➜ [Part 7]

➜ [Part 8] Coming Soon!

Tik...

Tik....

Tik...

The hands of your watch sounded endlessly as if it was mocking you, in a way, how it had infinite time while yours was limited.

You gritted your teeth and focused the best you could on the situation at hand. You and your partner were situated atop one of the city's numerous buildings, keeping an eye out for a particular sly little villain.

There were repeated reports of a variety of break-ins, ranging from small restaurants to higher bank robberies. At first, the people waited for the heroes to find this villain. But it seemed that they always had bigger fish to fry, always having excuses.

"The paperwork!"

"There's bigger issues at hand then some late night thief"

"We looked but didn't find anyone, sorry"

"Have you tried getting a better security system? I think that's the problem here"

It drove you mad. You didn't hate all heroes, not wanting to be like those anti-hero people who got upset everytime a hero wasn't there immediately whenever they ran into the smallest issue. But you did have a grudge.

You just didn't understand how the very heros that society put on a pedestal didn't do the simplest things that were expected of them sometimes. Too busy getting caught up in the paperwork and red tape.

Being a Hero once was something that was only ever dreamed of, something that one couldn't ever get close to. When quirks were introduced, this changed many mindsets, and completely flipped the many laws of reality that so many had believed. It was groundbreaking, revolutionary. Society advanced at faster speeds, and new technologies were pouring out.

But, unfortunately, what goes up, must come down.

On the beginning, the definition and laws of a hero were choppy, they didn't really have any boundaries due to the fact that no one had anything to go off of. But, as time progressed, more laws were put into place. A hero simply couldn't go and fight a villain and be done with. Now, they had to fill out reports, and sometimes the villains successfully won court cases over this.

The foundation of what it meant to be a hero was put into place. Or had it? It was still a very controversial topic, but the main idea was set, and that's all that mattered.

Now in current days, heroes still look like the same cape-wearing muscular doer's of justice, but many times, they're either doing it for the gold or the glory. Or they don't do anything at all, restricted and bound by paperwork and invisible strings. They know what's right, and they have the gift to help and save. But if they're told "no" then they follow.

That's why you preferred being a vigilante. You got to battle villains and help people, all the while avoiding the specificities. Yeah, you did have to run from the cops every now and then, sometimes a hero or two, but that just made it all the more interesting.

Plus, you got to be a part of a sort of underground society, one that was shielded from public eye and hidden away in the depths of existence.

So, here you were doing the heroes' jobs, again.

You looked to your partner, who was watching the entrance of a significant jewelry shop that hadn't been touched by any villains yet. You were currently using your illusion quirk to cover both of yourselves in a sheet of invisibility so you could better the possibility of your expected outcome.

Your quirk was powerful, and full of possibility. Though you were never fully nor formally trained, you still understood the limits of your quirk enough to use it exceptionally well. Long, intense training sessions over a span of time allowed you to gain a deeper insight into the inner depths of your quirk, to which you've come to the realization wasn't just any ordinary quirk, even going as far to call it overpowered at some points.

Your thinking was cut short when your partner signaled to you with a silent fist up from where you two were laying. You looked down and finally spotted the villain you were looking for. He didn't look too strong, nor did his face ring any bells, so that meant he was just some lowly villain who lucked out with a shifty quirk.

From the rooftop where you laid, you and your partner watched together to see what the man was going to do next. You noticed he looked like any other person walking around the town, short black hair with a black hoodie on over a pair of black jeans, and you realized that it was surely no accident he was dressed so camouflaged since it was late in the night.

Your eyes followed the man, curious as to how he was able to get in and out of robberies so quickly. The man walked up to the back door of the bank, and your eyes widened when you saw his body begin to shift and distort, slowly closing in until he was perfectly 2-dimensional, and looking at him made you think about all the cartoon characters that you watched when you were younger.

Upon this discovery, the plan was set in motion as you and your partner both hopped down the fire escape of the building and went in for a silent chase across the street, as the man had already slinked underneath the door. He had unlocked it for an easy exit, you thought possibly because he couldn't turn other objects flat like him.

Your partner, Omonifukai Hanawadashii (whom you called Fukai for short) whispered for you both to split up so this villain would think that it was only him, since you were better at stealth rather then combat like he was.

Fukai's quirk was one that seemed simple, but had proven to be incredibly strong when used right. He was able to control the density of different objects, including people or even specific parts of people. His specialty was increasing the density of his hand to the point to where it was easily able to crush anything under it, to which he normally used to knock villains out. A positive side of his quirk was he could still lift anything he used it on, but his drawbacks caused him to feel more pain than normal if hit or attacked.

Your agreed, and uncovered him from the blanket of your quirk, revealing him to reality just as he had once been before you put it on him.

Fukai ran in the direction of the villain as you ran in the opposite direction, going for a higher point so you could see the action and use your quirk properly.

Unfortunately the building wasn't as tall as it was wide, so you had to stick with crouching behind one of the jewelry counters, trying to stick as close to the wall as possible in order to remain unseen.

As luck would have it the villain seemed to have been thinking in a similar manner, as you watched Fukai chase after him as he slithered across the wall, a cheeky grin resting on his face as Fukai grew frustrated at his devious tricks of escape. The alarm started to blare as Fukai tripped one of the wires, cursing low to himself as the villain chuckled at the misfortune.

You studied the villain, watching as he glided across the walls and the floor at times, and you realized that he was able to move at an increased pace when aligned to a flat surface, in contrast to standing straight up as he did earlier. You came to the conclusion that he was a villain of cowardice, preferring to get in and out without a fight, and opting to use sly skills instead of risking a fight with a person of stronger status.

With this new information secured into place by your observations, you devised a plan in order to catch the villain and leave him be for the police.

You used your quirk and dug into his subconscious, a grin of your own growing on your face as you located your target, an almost cruel idea forming in your head at the expense of the villain. You had found his fear.

The villain dodged each of Fukai's attempts at landing a blow to him with such an ease it seemed as if he had all the time in the world. He was cocky in his own skills, having had been in worse scenarios and still escaped.

The villain looked directly at Fukai from where he was seated on one of the walls, almost laughing at the sight of some random teenage boy thinking he could play hero and catch the big bad villain.

Fukai noticed you signal to him with your hand up, closing and opening from the corner of his eye and understood that you were going to set off your quirk. Without this context, most people wouldn't understand that some of your illusions work directly in your opponents mind, meaning that your opponents would react to something surrounding people couldn't see. Fukai understood, and he backed off a bit in order to not disrupt the illusion.

The villain was about to mock Fukai a bit more before departing, but his smirk quickly fell at he noticed a large, hulking figure appear behind the kid.

His eyes widened and breathing became still as he made eye contact with the one and only symbol of peace, All Might himself.

Shocked to the point of motion becoming forgotten, the villain's thoughts suddenly started bouncing all around, before erratically trying to think of different plans, anything he could do to get away. He ran into a dead end with every single trick up his sleeve as he recalled seeing the massive hero defeat some of these biggest, baddest villains known to Japan into a pile of defeat. No, there was no solution to this problem.

Just as you both were about to take out the villain in his moment of vulnerability, everyone in the room jumped as a man wearing all black with a large scarf resting around his shoulders dropped from one of the pipes near the roof of the building. His absolute silence despite his sudden movements made you wonder how long he was there for.

Your illusion was ruined as the intruding man walked through it, unable to see it. The villain's frustration grew as he realized that he had been duped, but before he could do anything the man's scarf that had once been still suddenly jumped to life as it floated all around the dark-haired man's head for a second, before violently snapping around the villain, and your eyes grew as you saw the man's hair rise in the air in a very similar manner. Surreal. Before you knew it the villain was back to normal, and you quickly realized that this man was most likely a hero of sorts.

You saw Fukai looking over at you as he shuffled to the walls while the man was busy, but narrowly avoided being caught in the man's scarf as it aimed to close around him just as it has done to the villain moments ago.

You signaled for him to run, and he hesitated for a second, worry filling his eyes, but ultimately decided to listen and trust you as the scarf slithered around his ankle, to which he just barely managed to shake off.

You heard the man in the scarf curse as he watched your friend go, not wanting to risk letting the villain go in trade.

You toiled a bit, trying to tackle the problem that presented itself to you without introduction. A hero showing up so early wasn't part of the plan, nor was it expected considering most of the heroes' patrol routes were situated a slight distance away.

So, you wondered, who was this guy?

Your thinking was interrupted by the interrupter himself.

"I know you're there. Don't try to fool me into believing you're not."

You gasped a bit, not considering how he was able to know you were there when you were under your quirk. That is, until you held up your hand and realized that it was visible again, and right behind it was the man in the scarf, hair afloat and glowing red eyes situated directly on you.

He had the villain unconscious on the ground, tied in that scarf of his, which he held two parts of in his hands in order to keep it secure. But there was plenty of the scarf to go around. You realized this as you came face to face with the snake-like entrails of the scarf flickering and snapping at you, seeking to seize and bind you along the villain.

You were lucky your face was covered, because this man didn't seem to be as ignorant as some of the other heroes (especially sidekicks). You didn't speak as you dodged and ran, not wanting to reveal who you might be.

To your devastation, as soon as you opened the back doors from where you came you were met with police offers running in your direction from the front of the building. Panic built up in your chest as you didn't have much energy from continuously covering yourself in your quirk, along with having it disrupted twice.

You still pushed yourself to at least run, deciding that you could easily lose them in the plentiful twists and turns that filled the little seaside town.

You understood that if you ran in the direction of your place that you and your things were were currently at, then you would most likely give it away to the police and you'd have to deal with them being on your back as you looked for a new place to stay. But you didn't want to outright run in the opposite direction in case they thought of your plan, so you settled on running in a sort of zig zag, not wanting them to be able to predict your path of travel.

You turned randomly at each turn you ran into, landing in alleyways, on top of dumpsters, underneath large trees heavy with leaves, and eventually up and over fences of backyards as you found yourself in some sort of comfortable little neighborhood nestled in the small town.

Your panic shrunk a bit as you realized that you had thrown off most of the police officers that were chasing you, having been diminished to a small few stragglers that refused to let up.

Sweat poured down your face and blotted your underarms and neck, making you grimace in discomfort as you also had to deal with the sharp pangs that made their way up your legs and back.

You awkwardly sprinted as a little dog chased you across a small yard, and hopped another fence, looking to find somewhere to turn or hide, just anything to get them off your back.

You used your quirk with scarcity as you looked over your back to the best of your ability and hit 3 of the remaining 5 officers with an illusion of yourself tripping over the fence to which they turned to. The other two tried yelling at them that it was a trick, but decided their attempts would be pointless as they kept up the chase, not faltering.

You frowned, squinting as you felt an impending migraine starting to make its way into your head. You knew that you were overexerting yourself, and that the migraine would only serve as a distraction if it grew, but you were so very close, you didn't have any choice but to keep going.

You hopped the next fence without as much strength as you originally did, knowing that it only drained your energy faster having to constantly boost yourself up and down rather than running and turning. You wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.

You remembered that there was a cluster of empty houses that weren't sold yet somewhere nearby, so you ran in turn, changing your course of action by jumping out into the street from one of the backyards you were in, missing the pair of curious violet eyes watching you from a window in one of the houses.

You ran down the street into a more disheveled neighborhood that connected to the newer one you were just in, looking over to see only one officer remained. You didn't remember when the other one disappeared, but you excused it because you couldn't constantly look over your back when running.

You sharply turned a corner to get out of the sight of the remaining officer, heading to the end of the neighborhood where the empty houses were before throwing yourself through the open window of the first one you saw without thought, you just needed a place of hiding.

You breathed a heavy sigh as you propped yourself down for a second, having been through way too much action than you signed up for. You knew the police would probably think you ran out back towards the desolate fields that laid behind the houses.

To them, the houses were legally listed as private property*, so they wouldn't think about you bursting into someone's home without warning. You knew they were empty though from your days of scavenging for goods to survive, in fact you learned a lot about your surroundings because of that, and that's how you were able to evade the police for such a long time.

You held your breath as you heard him pass by, but once again fate seemed to be voting for your downfall, as you heard crunching of footsteps walk around the house instead of right past, and you started to grasp at what they were doing.

As soon as the backdoor flew open was the exact moment you recognized just where you were, and what house you had chosen.

You started to hyperventilate, air whooshing in and out of your lungs as the room around you started to spin.

Home...

You were home...

But this wasn't home...

It was a house once filled with horrors, pain and agony, which now reeked of death. A familiar smell you knew all too well.

Your legs moved indistinctly, as though they had minds of their own and yet still understood your internal logic.

Heart racing, eyes watering, you refused to let yourself get caught, especially in the very place you gained your new life after the death of your old one.

Mind numb, and filled with only thoughts of 'escape', you ran to the doors, but remembered they were glued shut, along with the windows. You had done that once so very long ago.

The remaining open window was shut and blocked by the police officer that was chasing you earlier, who was now the one cornering you right by it. You could see a look of compassion and understanding in his eyes, but you saw it as a look of pity instead in your moment of frustration.

You could hear not one, not two, but three voices surrounding you, and anyone that was surrounding you blurred into one giant mass as your fear started to overwhelm you, overtaking your very mind and filling every crevice it could find.

In a moment of desperation you tried using your quirk, trying to create the worst, cruelest entity that you could create, but nothing came out instead.

Your eyes started to warm as you felt tears of frustration and fear building up, but you didn't cry, you refused to. Your emotions started to slow down as you saw one of the police officer aiming what looked like a gun at you, finger on trigger. At that moment you gained slight control of your thoughts, your mind painfully screaming at you to get out of there, to protect your pride and dignity.

In your panicked state you turned and tried slamming the window to escape, but all you attempts were futile as it wasn't going to budge. You heard the trigger being pulled and braced yourself, but all you felt was a little stab on your arm. You looked down and realized that it was a tranquilizer dart that had lodged itself into your upper arm.

Your mind started to fill with fog and the edges of your vision started to slowly fill in as you banged your hand on the window in one last attempt of escape.

And then your world went dark.

A/N:

Alright, so that was part 1! I do hope that it was good enough for you, I'm trying to learn from past mistakes when writing, and I feel as though I'm in improving little by little everyday.

Don't worry, if writing the story takes too long then I'll post the parts one by one instead of waiting until it's all finished. This is my first time writing something so long, but I enjoy it!ദി ᷇ᵕ ᷆ )♡

Any feedback or constructive criticism is completely allowed, and if you see any mistakes then please notify me so I can fix them.

If you wish to send in a request as well, once again, please don't hesitate!

I'll be working on this as much as I can, but my progress is slowed until my phone gets completely fixed (which it will soon-hopefully anyways). I appreciate your patience! (๑´ㅂ`๑)

For the first *, that basically means that I have a note about whatever is near it. The note for that was I have absolutely no clue how buying or selling houses and property works, I just made that up on the spot. I know there's a 99% chance it's wrong, so just please go with it, I'm sorry for any annoyance.

This story is ok for reposts or other uses such as those YouTube channels that read out fanfics and things like that. My only ask is that you tell me beforehand for everything but the reposts. I just like to see other people interact with things I make, it makes me happy (⁠^⁠^⁠).

Thank you so much for reading this complete mess, I know I wrote a lot of things that aren't the story, and once again I'm sorry about that.

I hope you have a lovely day!

ヾ(>᎑<`๑)ﾖｼﾖｼｨ

年2022/月12/日01

#Escaping The Night #bnha aizawa #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shōta #aizawa x daughter reader #shinsou x reader #dadzawa

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