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bakugoushotwife · 8 months

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kinktober day twenty-four: dry humping

>>> hawks that’s it that’s the post!!

>>> starring: keigo takami x curvy!f!reader >>>cw: ur just so submissive n breedable he can’t help it, mild exhibitionism, no aftercare, mating press, creampie. >>> wc: 2.1k i’m sorry my LAPTOP >>> event masterlist

keigo is a busy—and forgetful—man. he forgot his lunch at home at least twice a week, though you were beginning to think it was just so you would get all prettied up and make your way to his office to bring it to him.

you do it every time, knowing without a doubt that your hero would work straight through lunch if he wasn’t looking at it sitting on his desk. between running his own agency and reporting to the hpsc and his sidekicks and the media—taking care of himself was the last thing on his mind. thank goodness for his lovely little lady who always made sure he slept and showered and ate. he would definitely be in ruin if it wasn’t for you. you were more than he deserves; soft, sweet, and so, so, sexy. you certainly knew how to ease the stress in his life and solve the ache in his heart.

and apparently, the rumbling in his stomach.

you always took special care of your appearance anytime you visited hawks at his agency. you don’t know why, necessarily, but you felt the need to look your best when you strut to the top floor of his prestigious building. maybe it’s your way of showing off, maybe you just want him to feel proud of his choice. either way, you put on your cutest dress and do your makeup in the style that he likes, packing his bento and dutifully walking to his office.

keigo noticed about halfway through his commute to work that he left his lunch at home. he could easily fly back to the house and pick it up, he wouldn’t even be late for his morning patrol given his quirk—but! he knows you’ll bring it. it’s a thursday and he hadn’t forgotten it all week—he didn’t want you thinking that he didn’t wanna see his girl during the work day now. he looked forward to his break today, smiling a little wider as he flew towards his agency with the knowledge that his little dove would be stopping by to spend it with him.

the first half of the day passes rather hectically—though that was considered normal in his experience. he was short in sidekicks today but not short on missions that needed to be completed. he had to cover more ground than usual because of it and he had to do an interview right before your unscheduled but definitely scheduled arrival.

but as soon as he hears the cute little heels he bought you clink against the tile of his agency, he’s nearly cured. the headache he was developing eases, tunnel vision clearing up and his brow relaxing visibly at the sight of you.

“little dove!!!” he chirps, a few of his feathers taking the bento off your hands like you were carrying some heavy load.

“you forgot your lunch again, keigo. if you want me to eat lunch with you, all you have to do is ask.” you give him a knowing look, lifting your leg so you could take a little seat on the corner of his desk. he smiles at you with the utmost admiration the entire time—gold avian eyes glowing with soft affection, though your yellow sundress was definitely darkening his thoughts the longer he stared at the sweetheart neckline.

“asking takes all the fun out of it, little bird.” he leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose before going back to the mess of papers scattered around. you can tell it’s been a long day already—his shifty eyes and fidgeting hands shuffling over endless blurs of words that he needed to organize before he allowed himself to get distracted with you.

you roll your eyes at both his response to you and his adhd style mess that somehow made perfect sense to him. you pry the lid off the top of his bento, unstacking the little boxes to prepare to force feed him if necessary. you toss your hair over your shoulder, sliding off the desk to bend over his lap with your offering. he pretends to not notice what you’re doing—but you don’t understand. he has to. you basically have your tits in his face and he’s so stressed out that just the sight of his soft, warm pillows have him ready to risk it all. he can smell your sweet perfume, some of your stubborn hair still tickling his stubble-covered jaw.

“keigo…” you raise your brow, his gaze trained on your cleavage makes it clear that he was just lost in thought, not in paperwork. not that you cared—you thought his workload was ridiculous and that he was much harder on himself than he deserved. “you need to eat.” you huff, and your tone snaps him out of his dirty day dreams. he leans forward and takes the food off your extended chopsticks, smiling up at you innocently.

“wanna eat you instead.” he pouts, swiftly turning your wrist so you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the chopsticks before tugging you into his lap. you would chuff at such a cheesy reply—especially given his usual creativity, but he doesn’t give you the chance. he’s feeling at the fat of your hips, letting his face fall forward into the swollen mounds of your breasts. you giggle at the feeling of his scruff against your flesh, wet lips tracking over your chest. that feels far less funny, especially as his hands slide to your waist and back to your thighs; you find yourself arching into him and panting softly, trying to keep your volume down.

he just couldn’t help himself. you were such a relief in more ways than one, and he needed you to work your magic. it felt like he was the magician though, his hand moving further north to ghost over your cunt, your dress hiked up enough for him to tell his little dove isn’t wearing any underwear. how thoughtful of you, truly. it seems to him you wanted to relieve him too—of course his sweetness would.

your fingers knit in his hair as he cups your exposed pussy—warm and already slick for him. he grins a bit, looking up at you with his same love-filled gaze. he guides your need down on his lap—making your clit catch on his pants so deliciously your cheeks warm. he was biting his lip at the cute way you tug on his hair and struggle to be quiet.

“keep it down, pretty. don’t wanna get hawks in trouble, yeah?” he taunts a little—all part of his relief, you know. watching you wrestle to control yourself was so adorable, he just had to see more. his hands speed you up as his other hand pulls down the neckline of your sexy little dress.

you nod eagerly, hips humping up into him in order to chase that addicting burn in your stomach. you knew he’d give it to you—he wasn’t that mean, but he certainly wanted to see you squirm. you bite down on your lip to muffle your whines, feeling the intensity claw at your lungs to leave you gasping as softly as you could manage. he grins, a smug expression of his control over you as you nod vigorously—a silent sign that you were about to reach your end.

he nods to permiss it, eyes trained on how your fat tits bounce with your stuttering hips. he flickers up to watch your face, your mouth hung open in a perfect o—complimenting your crossed eyes. he chuckled a little, leaning up to kiss over your chest and wrap his arms around you with a knowing look.

“aw, my lil dove could hardly hold it together!” he giggles, the imprint of his dick shifting against your sensitive slit as he stood.

“mhm, ‘s hard to be quiet for you daddy.” you nod in agreement, pouting at him while securing your hold around his neck.

“poor baby—let’s go to the roof so you can be as loud as you want..” he purrs despite his avian nature. you bite your lip at the suggestion, just as riveting and tempting as the first time he offered to take you up there.

“need more of you—don’t care where.” you kiss at his jawline, only making his wings twitch with excitement for you. then the wind is whipping through your hair as keigo takes you to ‘his v.i.p. lounge.’

he lands smoothly as always, the blanket he leaves up for his lunch breaks with you serving as the barrier between your near naked form and the cool tile lurking beneath. he’s got you on your back instantly, shrugging out of his jacket and working on his belt with great haste. he’s focused on your impatient body, the slick coating your thighs and the light hickies he placed earlier combined with your needy face and spread legs had him fumbling to get his dick in you as soon as humanly possible. his pants drop to his knees and he pulls your hips forward, playing around in the mess he’s made of you. you whine at his teasing, shaking your head with a pout.

he chuckles, pushing your knees up to your ears as he sinks into your waiting cunt. his head falls back at how you fit around him. there was no pussy like this in the entire world, and he would fuck you like it.

“gah—ah~” you moan out at the weight of him nestled inside your body—the perfect movements he settled into to build that fire in your gut again, and this was just the beginning; two of his feathers flocked to your chest to rub against your perky nipples.

your back arches at the sensation, and he begins to fuck into you harder. you’re so intoxicating to him, you’re perfect and pliant nature—your stunning face and even more beautiful soul had him by the balls.

and then his phone rings. he groans, sending it to voicemail with a click—rutting against your womb at a pace most men would falter in. but then they call back, and he realizes that it has to be important. he listens to the voicemail message—and his suspicions were right. emergency in kyoto.

“gotta make this quick, darlin’. got some trouble a little bit away…gonna be a good girl and let me use my pretty pussy?” he asks, tossing his phone over his shoulder. you nod, his pace hadn’t slowed even while he was listening to the call, making you

a pile of mush already. you would let him do anything to you, and you weren’t sure he’d even have to ask.

“knew you would. so good for me to use.” he coos to you, languidly dragging his cock through your walls. you can feel every ridge of his dick, hitting every spot almost magically. your head rolls along your blanket, screaming for him just like he wanted. you can tell he’s working hard to finish—to fuck you and then go do his job, sweat beads along his hairline, pearly teeth digging at his lip. “geez you’re such a good sleeve for daddy. want to be full, little dove?”

he doesn’t know where to look. your gorgeous cunt sucking him in, your perfect tits bouncing in time with every brutal slam of his hips to your ass. how would he choose? how about your mouth forming perfect prayers of his name or your eyes rolling back in your head as he pins you down and makes you take it.

“fuck—daddy! please—“ you were so close, on the precipice of something intense and earth shattering. this wasn’t like earlier, the fire was uncontrollable and you couldn’t hold it much longer.

“gonna cum baby girl—just like that, fuck yeah.” he pants, guiding your hips forward to meet his insane thrusts. he spills his load, stilling his hips before you could tip off that precious precious edge—and you knew immediately he did it on purpose. you were his relief, he had to hurry! but don’t worry, keigo won’t leave you wanting for long.

he leans over to give you a quick smooch, tucking himself back into his pants and fixing his belt, giving you that same smug grin as he reaches for his jacket.

“lunch was delicious babe. dinner will be even better, i’ll see you at home!!” he coos, pecking your lips once more for good measure before he’s just a flash of scarlet in the clouds.

you’re still reeling, head spinning from denial and the feeling of his seed pearling down your legs. once you’ve finally got your breath, you’ve rationalized his departure. you knew he had a crazy day today—it really wasn’t his fault. plus, he was going to make it up to you when he got off tonight. but…wait a minute.

how the fuck are you getting off this roof?

#kylee’s kinktober event #kyleewritesmha #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mha hawks #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami smut #takami keigo #keigo takami

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

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Morning Song

A cozy morning spent with Travis, couldn't think of a better way to start the day

Requested by @princessmermaid1289 ❤️

Travis bought an apartment in downtown Kansas City near Arrowhead when he first started playing for the Chiefs. He was often exhausted after a game, and didn't want to have to deal with traffic and the long commute home. When the two of you started seriously dating, you spent a lot of nights there, and you felt like you were getting a taste of what being with Travis for the rest of your life would be like, and you were in love. What started out as a convenience purchase quickly became a way to get away from the world when he just wanted to be with you.

Once in a while the two of you would cancel all of your commitments and sneak off to your second home, spend the entire weekend in pajamas just watching movies and catching up on life.

"Good Morning", his voice was hoarse, the taste of alcohol still on his tongue from last night. Between your couple of glasses of wine and a few beers on his end, you had spent the night telling childhood stories and laughing until your face hurt. You didn't even realize you had fallen asleep until you were blinded by the sun the next morning.

The sunlight peered through the bedroom window, highlighting each individual hair on Travis' forearm as you grazed your fingers across his soft skin.

"Morning.", you repeated, giving him a soft smile as you stretched. He pulled you in closer to his body, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You placed a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your lips linger on his skin while you took in his scent.

"Is that my body wash?" You recognized the coconut scent wafting from his body. Travis chuckled, pressing a kiss on your forehead. "What? I like the way it smells. Breakfast?"

"That sounds perfect. I'm gonna grab a shower and then I'll join you." You gave him a quick kiss before hopping off the bed.

You pulled the towel off of your hair, squeezing the remaining water from the ends as you walked into the kitchen. Travis was finishing up cooking, a plate pancakes in his hand.

"Did you make these?" You took a seat at the table, sipping on your cup of coffee.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Travis raised his eyebrows at you as he passed you the plate of sausage.

"Not surprised, just impressed, baby. Everything looks amazing." You gave him a soft smile, digging into your first bite.

The room naturally settled into a peaceful quiet as you finished breakfast, nursing the last drops of your coffee. While Travis cleaned up the kitchen, you headed out to the balcony, grabbing a blanket to wrap yourself up in. You had a perfect view of downtown from where you stood, the busy city hustling below you.

"You're gonna freeze out here, babe." You felt Travis' arms snake around your waist, his warm chest pressing against your back. "Keep me warm then." You turned in his hold, resting your cheek against his chest. He pulled you in tighter, swaying back and forth. You allowed your eyes to close, feeling safe and secure in his arms.

"I really don't want to go back to the real world. This weekend with you has been like a dream", you whispered. Travis was quiet, so you weren't sure if he heard you. You looked up at him, rubbing your fingers against his jawline. His gaze dropped to your lips as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He gently lifted your chin, so your mouths barely grazed against one another before you crashed lips, his kiss hard and passionate. You pulled away gasping for air, your eyes still closed, completely lost in the moment.

"Every moment I am with you is a dream, babe. No matter where we are. I love you, Y/N." Travis held his breath as he waited for you to respond. It was the first time he had said those three important words to you, but it was far from the first time he had thought them.

"I love you too, Travis." You stood on your tiptoes to reach his lips again, planting soft kisses on his lips repeatedly while he lifted you into his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom. You had planned to spend the day in bed anyway.

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rookthorne · 1 year

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𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➷ Baker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count ➷ 965 Warnings ➷ Fluff, pet names Author's Note ➷ My third and final submission for @the-slumberparty's week 2 creator challenge - and it is also my late contribution to Valentine's Day... so happy Valentine's Day to y'all!

Slumberparty Masterlist

𝑪𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑵 : ̗̀➛ a sweet biscuit having a fairly soft, chewy texture and typically containing pieces of chocolate or fruit.

There were very few plans you had come up in your life with that rivalled the sheer brilliance of what you decided to do - ‘twas the belated day for it, anyway.

Time had slipped through your fingers, so much so you hadn’t realised Valentines Day had already passed by with not even as little as a notice, nor a message. It was the curse of working so hard; late nights, early mornings, so on and so forth.

Your morning commute didn’t differ in its crowds - people bustling back and forth, rushing to get to their 9 to 5 jobs, or rushing to get to class on time. Though, you did not mind, your thoughts were too occupied on whether you truly were going to pull off such a brazen idea.

It wasn’t reckless per se, but it was out of your norm. A bakery on your usual route to work had signs out, declaring their cookies and treats to be the best in Brooklyn. You didn’t disagree whatsoever, but it wasn’t thoughts of the baked goods that your mind was clouded with, no–it was the baker that occupied the counter. His smile was beautiful, bright enough to light up even the dreariest days, and you couldn’t help but be pulled under the swell of his ocean blue eyes.

Subconsciously, or instinctually, you found yourself before the very doors to that bakery with no recollection how you had got there, though you weren’t sour for the thought. You could see him talking with customers, bagging up fresh loaves of bread and slices of cakes with that same damn smile that enchanted you.

The door opened with a whoosh and a tinkling of the bell, and you were inside.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,” he said, his voice smooth. The woman smiled and waved, leaving the bakery with bags and bags of sweet treats.

Another customer stepped forward to be served and you browsed the selection, a little overwhelmed; chocolate this and chocolate that, strawberry this and strawberry that, it was a wonder there were so many ways to use the same flavour in entirely new ways. You were no connoisseur, but you knew baking was an art.

“Hey,” he called. “Whatcha after today?”

You turned and smiled brightly, trying to will your heart to slow the tattoo it beat against your ribs. “I’m not sure actually,” you offered, sheepish. “I lost track of time and…” A better idea struck you. “I didn’t have time to get a gift before Valentine's Day, so I have to make up for that.”

The man laughed and rounded the counter. “Alright, now that is something I can help with. My name is Bucky, by the way.” You offered yours, and Bucky smiled. “What does your partner like?”

“I want to surprise them, see, they don’t have a favourite–I just know that they love your sweets.” It was a wonder you kept a straight face at the admission, your plan depended on it, and the delighted smile on Bucky’s lips almost broke your facade.

“The choc chip is by far the most popular, and not to be biassed–one of my favourites.” Bucky directed you towards the clear glass jars where a label was connected with twine, neat script defined ‘chocolate chip’. “And then there’s these,” Bucky continued, pointing towards a cream coloured biscuit with a heart shaped indent, filled to the brim with jam. “They are a safe, but still loved, classic for Valentine’s; even if it is belated.”

“Do you like them?” You asked, peering closer at the dusted sugar and how it sparkled under the soft lighting.

Bucky nodded next to you. “It was my ma’s recipe.”

“Perfect,” you sighed happily. “I’ll take some choc chip ones and these,” you pointed towards the heart biscuits. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“No worries, doll,” Bucky grinned. Oh, the things you would do to see that smile all the time.

A few moments later you met Bucky at the counter to pay, a shy smile on your face when you felt the slight crinkle of paper in your hand. Under the guise of digging through your bag, you wrote your phone number on a loose piece of paper and prayed to whoever would listen that this would work.

Bucky gave you the total with a happy smile and you waved your card. “Here you are,” Bucky said, handing you the bag full of the sweets he had ever so carefully packed. “I hope they like them, be sure to give my thanks for such high praise.”

“I will,” you rushed, grabbing the bag. Bucky turned to the box behind him and fiddled with something, and you took your chance; the slip of paper with your number fell neatly on top of the sealed boxes, its placement obvious and impossible to miss. “Actually, Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, turning with a raised brow. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you offered the bag back to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky stared. Shock, bewilderment, and amusement flashed in his pretty eyes as they flicked between you and the offered bag, before finally settling on endearment; a smile and wide eyes softening his features.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky breathed, taking the bag back and brushing his fingers against yours. His gaze flicked into the bag and his eyes grew even wider.

Before he could say anymore, you squeaked and skipped to the door. “Enjoy!”

Not even ten minutes later, your phone chimed as you walked through crowds to get to work. You pulled it free and let out a breath. It was an unknown number and an attachment, though what it contained told you exactly who had messaged.

Thank you for that, sugar. 😘

The attachment, much to your utter delight, was a selfie of Bucky’s bright smile, blue eyes, and he was holding up the piece of paper with your number. You floated on cloud nine for the rest of the day as you worked; giddy, excited, and happy.

↠ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ↞

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apocalyp-tech-a · 2 months

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SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW 🌈 (TechxReader)

Hello! This is my Bad Batch XReader Exchange gift for @deezlees for the @cloneficgiftexchange run by @ghostofskywalker!!! 💜

Prompts: Learning to ride a horse || Going on a vacation together || His first time at a history museum || Confident reader persona

Words: 2500

Warnings: None except flirtation maybe

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55173340

A/N: Having background in public history and having already written Tech at museums, this was a perfect matching!!! Hope you enjoy it! 🤓 And thank you to @cloneficgiftexchange for running it!

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW 🌈 (Tech X Reader)

The sun shone through the early morning commute of speeders and ships traversing Coruscant's sky, its pale blue color muted by smog that even the planet's filtering system could not alleviate. Towering skyscrapers of grays in every hue passed by as you navigated to the Grand Army of the Republic's base.

Upon pulling up in your speeder, a bright millaflower red Mustang XD38, you saw your future passenger salute you by casually flicking three fingers from his brow. You brought the speeder to a stop and flirted. "Hey good looking. Looking for a ride?"

"That depends," he said as he hopped into the passenger side with one dexterous and confident move.

"Depends on what, Tech?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"On if I can be the driver." He adjusted his goggles hopefully.

"Can I pilot the Marauder?"

"No."

"Then you can be my CO-pilot. Just remember, I am the Captain here." You winked at him playfully.

You revved up the engine, but it wasn't loud enough to cover Tech's large sigh of frustration. You chuckled to yourself proudly before shooting him a grinning glance. "Aw, don't be like that, maybe you can drive back."

"That is exactly what you said on our previous two outings." Tech held up a pointed finger in a very casual, yet disgruntled manner.

"Yes. Hence the word "maybe."

Tech's propensity for arguing about who was driving dissipated as the museum came into view. His eyes were wide with excitement, though you knew he was trying to keep that emotion at bay. You had seen him go on one of his excited know-it-all rants before. You found them amusing, endearing, and most of all impressive. He was the smartest person you knew, whether it was from Kaminoan meddling or not, didn't matter. You loved listening to him, and he loved to talk. And you didn't just like listening to him because of the pleasing sound of his voice and looks, but because he actually did talk about things that were interesting.

After parking, you both walked to the museum's main entrance. Tech adjusted his goggles as his head tilted back to take in the much larger than necessary doors adorned by a full arch of sculpted marble, stone, mythological figures from all over the galaxy.

"Shall we?" You suggested with a smile.

Tech nodded in the affirmative. "After you, Madame." Tech took note of the strange face you gave him upon being called 'Madame.' Perhaps it was a little old fashioned, but he still had not figured out what else he could use in place of your name without being too forward or disrespectful. Sometimes you called him 'Hot Shot' or 'Ace' which were exceedingly better than the names his brothers called him.

As for you, his brothers were not without suggestions. Crosshair suggested 'Doll,' Hunter suggested 'Sweetheart,' Echo suggested 'Dearest,' and Wrecker suggested 'Booboo-tooka.'

None of those monikers were quite sufficient, however, but Tech knew a solution would eventually present itself.

Since you had already purchased tickets as a surprise for him since he had not only repaired, but upgraded and heavily modified the repulsor system for your speeder, you were able to acquire visitor badges quickly and began your mosey through the museum.

With twenty levels, there was no way you could see everything in one day let alone a few hours, but you knew Tech had marked out an itinerary on his datapad to follow at your suggestion. You knew he only had so much leave to see what most piqued his interest. Even though he wanted to see everything, you finally convinced him to whittle it down to four floors.

"Let's start with the Paleolithic and Neolithic," he said with a tweak of his goggles. He started walking toward the lifts as if he had been there before, but you knew he had simply memorized the entire museum's layout.

"Sounds good to me," you said walking beside him. As you stood in the lift, you tilted your head up to study his profile as he continued to look down at his datapad. You wanted to blame the movement of the lift tube for the slight buckling in your knees, but you knew it was all due to his handsomeness.

Your heart pitter-pattered the moment you had seen him at 79s three months ago. You weren't one to go pick up guys at bars, but there was something unique and enticing about him. You thought little of it or him, figuring to never see him again until he came into your electronics shop in search of a capacitor.

Apparently your knowledge of computers made an impression because he came in the next day looking for a hyper-regulator. With fate on your side, you asked if he wanted to meet you for a drink and after some adorable awkwardness, he agreed.

The lift doors slid open and you stepped into a carefully curated world of wood and stone. Dioramas with the first humans, the first Trandoshans, the first Rodians, Twi'leks, and Pantorans were set up along one corridor.

"It is fascinating, the similarities between different species as pertains to the genesis and evolution of technology," Tech marveled as you came to the exhibit of like tools from all over the galaxy. "The Twi'lek arrowhead is quite similar to the Devaronian and Human. The same goes for ax-heads and needles. But once you get to items like beads and pottery vessels, you see the cultural trajectory lose conformity and develop based on materials available by individual local environment and customs."

"I had never really thought about it like that. I'm used to technology and more recent history I guess." You shrugged.

"Indeed. One can hardly expect the modern mind to memorize all of the information whether historical or technological. Though I do try."

"You have some 'exceptional' advantages that the rest of us do not," you teased. You had not known him three rotations when he went on a detailed explanation of he and his brothers' 'defects' which did not sound like defects at all to you. Then he continued to explain how those traits made them more deviant than defective. You certainly understood that side of him as he often met with you when he should have been attending to GAR duties.

Satisfied with your visit to the 'stone' ages, you next traveled through time and to the fifth floor to the rise of cities and nation states.

Tech stared at the first exhibit with fascination. "The agricultural revolution varied by planet. Those that did not have crops that could be mass produced could only sustain small settlements, whereas those with large crops could maintain large cities that grew exponentially into kingdoms and nations."

"And wars and starvation."

"Yes," Tech turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern at your statement. Did you not find history as fascinating as he did? He knew your views on the war and cloning. He dared not ask, but all he could do was agree with you.

When Tech continued to stare at you, you realized maybe you had gone too far and put a damper on an outing that was supposed to be fun. "I'm sorry, Tech. I didn't mean to rain on your parade."

He adjusted his goggles thoughtfully. "I have seen plenty of rain on Kamino," he said understandingly. "You need not apologize. That is an unfortunately correct assessment of civilization. With growth and progress comes conflict and suffering. The two seem to go hand in hand, but I think rather to have faith that intelligence and good intentions have the advantage."

"In that case, it's almost as if sentient life is collectively "defective." You smiled, grateful for his understanding and wisdom. For being a clone maybe a third your age, if that, you can not but admire his calm and collected approach to situations and problems. The only thing he seemed to ever be nervous around is you, but that was understandable because you knew the clone troopers didn't exactly get lessons in romance in the GAR.

Tech merely pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose with a knowing smile. He was never quite sure how to take your sarcasm, probably because he was self aware of his own and that of his brothers, Crosshair in particular. But the affectionate twinkle in your eyes and gentle flourish of your smile made his heart beat a little faster and the tips of his ears feel a little warmer.

He had not expected to become interested in a female. He was engineered to be a soldier, nothing more. Yet, you made him feel like he was more than that, that he wanted more even. He found himself returning to your shop even though he really did not need to.

And yet he did 'need' to.

Tech found himself smiling back at you. "Indeed. I must apologize. We have been to two floors of exhibits that I wanted to see. Is there something you would like to see?"

"No, Tech. This was all for you."

"I should very much like to learn about what interests you."

"Well, there is an atrium level. Gardens and ruins from other worlds. I remember being taken with the one from Naboo when I was a child." You felt a little weird saying that considering Tech was technically the same age as you were at the time. "You can actually sit there and relax. Or meditate like a Jedi." You shrugged.

"I would very much like that."

After browsing the garden exhibits of Kashyyyk, Chandrila, Selonia, and Old Coruscant, you settled in the Naboo section. A small waterfall splashed down a rock cliff before flowing through a makeshift river that encapsulated the area and then recycled back to the top of the waterfall. Lush green grass spread across one half before melding with a more tree and moss covered rocky area that housed some Gungan head statues. But what really amazed you not only as a child, but as an adult as well, were the guarlara statues that guarded the Naboo area.

Tech studied you as you gazed upon the statues, content to witness your own fixation with something in the museum since you put up with his. "The guarlara, a quadrupedal mammal native to Naboo, having evolved the physical trait of speed on that planet's grassy plains and also a long mane of hair. Used as transportation before the speeder was invented and now only used for official royal business such as coronations."

"Sadly, I don't think I'll ever get a chance to ride one."

"No. They are reserved for royalty," Tech said a little too bluntly. But you knew he didn't mean anything by it and that he for the most part sympathized with you.

"Indeed," you echoed a word he had a habit of saying. "Let's sit over on that fancy stone bench. My feet are a little sore from all of the walking we've done."

"Indeed," Tech said in reply with a grin. He forgot you were probably not used to walking five or ten klicks or more as he was.

You both sat in silence as the sound of the waterfall drowned out the low chatter of the museum. You took extra satisfaction because Tech is sitting right next to you, so close that your arms and legs were touching.

You knew he was a little nervous because he continued to look down at his datapad rather than enjoy the soothing sound of the waterfall, but maybe water just wasn't his thing.

“Hey Ace. What cycle are we heading for next?”

There it was. 'Ace.' One of your pet names for him. He wanted so badly to find one for you as well, but he wanted a special name, not the usual. He knew you liked driving and piloting as he did, but Ace could not work for both of you. He knew you also liked guarlaras, but there were not many equus related monikers that seemed suitable. Guarlara itself did not roll off the tongue very well. Pony was not very romantic. And mare simply sounded unsuitable.

Tech's eyes went from studying his datapad to studying the floor. He was disappointed that he could not find an ideal solution to this very simple quandary.

He now turned to you, studying your delicate features, so content to be in your favorite part of the museum, yet you were so colorful as well, not like anyone he had ever met before. When you turned to him, he took to studying the sparkle in your eyes, that seemed to represent everything he admired about you.

“What is it?” you asked, noticing Tech staring at you strangely.

He took your hand in his. "I was simply thinking about what an extraordinarily colorful woman you are. You remind me of the rainbows on Kamino. They were always so vibrant after a storm. And you are a vibrant beacon after all of the missions we go on. You are like a rainbow to me, albeit in adult human female form."

“Awwww...” You squeeze his hand and place your other hand over your heart. "I think that might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Tech could not help the large smile that spread across his face. “Then it is settled, Rainbow.”

You could not stifle the huge goofy smile that was spread across your face, beaming with happiness at Tech, whose eyes reflected your contentment. “You know, Ace, I think you might have earned the title of Captain.”

“That is not possible. Hunter is our Sergeant and first in line for that- Oh. You are referring to your speeder. You are going to let me pilot it?” Tech asked with a hopeful tweak of his goggles.

You laughed at him. “Come on, Captain Tech. Let's finish out the rest of the museum, then you can take me for ride.” The sly wink you gave him gave you exactly the fumbling reaction you desired.

Tech pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose nervously and cleared his throat. “Yes. I shall take you for a ride in your speeder.”

After you were all done at the museum, you took note of Tech's excitement to sit on the pilot side of your speeder while you took the seat he had earlier. Before you knew it, you were speeding away from the museum, up into the sky at a breakneck, but controlled speed, but it didn't matter, you knew he was a skilled pilot, and you trusted him with your life, and your heart.

Tech looked over at you, a huge smile spread across your face as the speeder breezed through the bright, neon signs and beaming lights of the other vehicles in the skylanes and shining through the windows of the skyscrapers. All of the colors of the Coruscant evening did not compare to the lovely colors of you, his own personal Rainbow.

#TBBE24 #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tech x reader #star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #aelfwynn on ao3 #fan fiction #reader exchange #aelfwynn / techpopstar on ao3

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storiesofsvu · 2 months

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Don't Blame Me Ch 2

Joe Velasco x reader Warnings: language, minor mentions of negative histories, major fluff otherwise!

Every year when the weather began to pick up in springtime you always opted to spend as much of your time outdoors, even if it was at night or it made your commute a little bit longer. Traffic in the city was bad enough most days, if you could swap that for a subway ride and a walk it helped clear your head and got some exercise in. You preferred it that way, able to change your direction at the last minute, pop into a shop or bodega without a second thought about parking, and there was something calming about being out in the fresh air.

Tonight you were hungry but couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was you were craving, wandering the aisles of the bodega until you finally huffed with defeat and picked up a bag of chips for the rest of the walk home. Half a block later you passed an all night pizza joint, bustling full with people who’d left he clubs early, teetering over each other as they the grease started to soak up all the booze in their stomachs. Lord knows you’d nursed enough hangovers with New York pizza, you were glad you wouldn’t have to be doing that in the morning. You tossed the now empty chip bag into the bin and turned down the next block that was mainly bars, bass still echoing into the streets. You felt your phone start to buzz in your bag and your lips split into a grin when Jose’s name was flashing across the screen.

“Hey stranger.” You answered.

“Hey yourself. I was gonna apologize for it being so late but it sounds like you’re out on the town.”

“Worked late,” you laughed, “I’m just on my way home.”

“How about a pit stop? I can’t stop thinking about you, I’d love to buy you a drink.”

“You know…” you tugged your lip into your mouth as you waited for a light to change, your stomach growling again and wondered if the slight shift would send him looking for an excuse, “I’ve got a hankering for pancakes right now. You got a place for that?”

“Absolutely.” He chuckled, “where abouts are you?”

“Just around the corner from Fordham station.”

“I’ll pick you up there in five.”

“Alright. See ya.”

Smiling, Joe hung up the phone, swinging his keys around his finger while he waved goodnight to his friends, quickly slipping into the drivers seat. He was likely less than five minutes away from where you’d been, which was another reason his mind was telling him that this is exactly the impulse he was supposed to be following tonight. He’d hoped he’d be able to rope you into a drink, but a meal at this hour was even better, it meant a quieter environment, and a longer interaction. He pulled up to the station, parking the car and getting out so you could find him properly, leaning against the vehicle while he waited. He spotted you first, completely unaware you were in his eyeline as you waited to cross the street. You were a little more casual tonight, capri leggings and tank top, a small bag thrown over your shoulder and your hair pulled back into a ponytail. As soon as you crossed the street he stepped away from the car and into your eyeline, happy at the way a smile broke out on your face.

“Hey.” You greeted, shivering slightly when he leant in to kiss your cheek softly.

“Hey.” His hand rubbed up and down your back, “are you not freezing?”

“No.” You straight up lied as your body betrayed you, shivering again and he chuckled, opening the back door and digging around in the back seat.

“You’re gonna get sick if you keep going out at night without a coat.” Reappearing from the car he had a hoodie in hand, passing it to you, “here.”

You took the hoodie from him, tugging it over your head you couldn’t help but let out a small groan, it was the perfect level of warm, fuzzy and it still smelt like him. “Oh you are never getting this back.”

“She’s a thief now, remind me to lock up my valuables.” He teased and you rolled your eyes, stepping toward the passenger door when he guided you to it, opening it for you to get in. He waited until you were tucked into the car before shutting it behind you and circling around to get in the driver’s seat.

“Who knew such a gentleman would take up with a lowly thief.” You teased back, earning a laugh from him.

“Yeah?” He raised a brow, a gleam in his eye as he suddenly leant over the middle console, one hand braced on it the other caging you into your seat and you were suddenly lost for any more teasing, your breath caught in your throat. “Even thieves have to do up their seatbelts.” He quickly pecked your cheek pulling a semi awkward giggle from you as he settled back in the driver’s seat.

His hand remained on your thigh for the drive across the borough, thumb stroking your leg every so often. You were surprised with just how comfortable the music filled silence was, it didn’t feel like you were strangers who had just met, it felt like you’d known each other a lifetime already. There was a comment every so often, a little bit of back and fourth before he was pulling into a parking lot of an all night diner.

After opening your door for you he took your hand, leading you inside, the bell above the door jingling when it opened. It was exactly what you’d expect for a twenty four hour diner, though the lights were dimmed a little bit to make things more comfortable after the midnight hour. Joe waved a friendly greeting to the woman behind the counter, paused for a brief fist bump with a couple of the bussers and nodded in greeting to a couple of guys in the corner table before leading you to a booth.

“I take it you come here often?” You asked, picking up the menu from the end of the table.

“You gotta know the people in the neighbourhood, good for business.”

“Makes sense.” You opened the menu, flipping to the breakfast pages, “so what’s the best to get here?”

“You still want pancakes?” He asked with a grin and you nodded, “they’ve got banana walnut, Nutella stuffed, banana and strawberry topped, chocolate chip, blueberry, or cranberry apple cinnamon.”

“What if I want Nutella stuffed pancakes also topped with banana and strawberry?”

“I just knew you were gonna go for that.” He chuckled, “get ‘em with bacon and sausage, just trust me.”

“You just know all the secrets don’t you?”

He chuckled again, grinning across the table as you glanced back down at the menu and he felt a warmth bloom through his chest at the sight of you in his hoodie. You looked unbelievably cozy and he was starting to wish you were curled up in his lap rather than around yourself. Before he could get too lost in his daydream you were thankfully interrupted by your server.

“Jose…” the woman reached out, pinching at his cheek, “been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“You’ve been stuck on day shift.” He protested with a laugh, “you know my sleep schedule doesn’t allow that. Hey, how’s the knee?”

“Better, thanks to you.” She smiled down at him, “actually managed that 5k Hayley was so insistent on.”

“I told you.” He grinned.

“I mean, had to walk half of it, but she’s still proud of me, remind me to show you pictures later. Now, I never know at this hour, is it a coffee night or a beer night?” She asked and Joe looked over at you, nudging your foot under the table.

“You wanna beer?”

“I---” you stalled with a laugh, flipping between two of the drink pages of the menu, “this is gonna make me sound like I’m a teenager, but is there anyway I can do a coke float with a shot of vanilla vodka?”

“Course honey.” She smiled down at you, “and don’t let him tease you about it either.” She swatted at Joe’s arm, “he’s one of our biggest consumers of chocolate milkshakes with baileys.”

“Oh c’mon.” He laughed, “you guys can’t team up on me.”

“Sounds like we just did.” You smirked from across the table and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“Helen, this is y/n.” Joe introduced, “y/n, Helen.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You replied with a smile.

“You too. Don’t let this one drive you wild.” She turned back to Jose, “she’s pretty, and smart. Don’t fuck it up.” After the warning she turned back to both of you, “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

“I didn’t order a drink.” Joe muttered and you laughed.

“Looks like you’re getting a milkshake.”

You were right of course, Helen coming back a few minutes later with exactly that and your float, she took your food orders and then disappeared off to deal with the rest of her tables.

“Are you from the city?” Joe asked.

“Born and raised in Queens.” You nodded, “lived in a little townhouse with my mom, her best friend and her two girls.”

“Not a lot of space for five people.”

“Not at all. Basically no privacy. Thankfully once I hit thirteen they let me move into the basement. Sharing a room with the laundry was better than sharing with my mom.”

“When’d you move out?”

“Soon as I could. Graduated high school and never looked back.”

“Dad not around?” He asked and when you looked up at him you could see the careful curiosity in his eyes.

“Nope. Never met him, mom had a couple of boyfriends who would show up all the time when I was growing up, try to get me to call them dad, none of them ever stuck around long enough for me to care. You know your dad?”

“Unfortunately.” He replied and you grimaced, your nose scrunching up at the tone of his voice. “it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, trust me. Thankfully the bastard bit the dust before I was a teenager.”

“You grow up here?”

“Nah.” He took a sip of his drink, “Juarez.”

You stalled, looking up at him with slightly wide eyes, “and you got out?”

“I had help.” He shrugged, “part of why community means so much to me up here.”

“Understandable.”

The conversation took a brief pause as food was delivered and Helen asked if you needed any refills on drinks.

“Is your mom here?” You asked over a bite of pancakes and Joe shook his head.

“Back in Mexico, we talk every so often, I make sure to send some money every month but that’s about it.”

“Sometimes the family we make is the real family we need.” You pointed out and Joe let out a huff of a laugh.

“See, you get it.” His hand slid across the table, squeezing at yours, “I take it your mom isn’t around much anymore?”

“Ran off with one of her trucker boyfriends on my nineteenth birthday. Haven’t heard from her since. But I’m a big girl, I know how to take care of myself, I can tie my own shoes and everything.”

“You’re wearing Toms.” He pointed out with a teasing grin and you scowled at him across the table. He took full advantage of the distraction to swipe a piece of bacon from your plate.

“Hey!” You nearly whined.

“I told you to order both.” He pointed out.

“You could’ve ordered your own bacon if you were planning on eating all of mine!” You protested with a laugh and he simply shrugged.

“Isn’t it like, cuter or something if I’m eating off your plate?”

“Oh we’re into those technicalities already?” You smirked, hand sneaking across the table to swipe a couple of tater tots off his plate. “Then this is completely warranted.”

“What’s mine is yours.” He laughed, sliding his plate closer to you.

“Now that sounds more like it.” You teased back, snagging another tater tot. Though you let out a mock scoff when he stole a piece of strawberry off your plate.

As the two of you finished your meals you were more than thankful that he’d called knowing you likely would’ve just throw something barely edible into the microwave instead of eating actual food. There was just something so calming about being around Jose, you felt safe, comfortable, like you knew you would be taken care of. What had started out as a small fluttering in your stomach had moved up to you chest, a warmth blooming through your entire body, goosebumps breaking out on your skin every time he touched you.

Glancing around the restaurant Joe noticed how the crowd had started to dissipate, those who’d been out late yawning, saying goodnight and making their way home. There were only a few people scattered through the room, the types that worked odd hours or night shift. He looked up at you, noticing that you weren’t affected by the chain of yawns going around, your eyes still bright when you glanced up at him.

“What?” You asked with a small smile.

“You a night owl? You don’t seem tired at all.”

“Kinda.” You shrugged, “I prefer to be awake when the city’s asleep. It’s more peaceful. No one else awake to bother you, get more shit done.” You wiped up a spot of syrup on the table before folding the napkin on top of your plate, “I need to wash my hands, I’ll be right back.”

Joe took the opportunity when you disappeared to the bathroom to sneak up to the front to pay the bill, opting to add on a couple of last-minute treats considering you seemed okay to keep the date going. He knew he was caught when he felt the comfort of your hand sliding across his back as you tucked yourself into his side.

“What’s all this?” You asked.

“A treat.” He smiled back, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before he scooped up the drink tray, wrapping his free arm around you to direct you back to the car. “Hot chocolate. Figured since you weren’t tired we don’t have to go home yet.”

“You kidnapping me?”

“I don’t think it counts if you’re a willing participant.” He pointed out and you laughed, sliding into the car, making no protests whatsoever when he handed the drink tray to you.

Joe drove through the night streets with ease, the city having calmed down while you’d been at the diner, a few turns here and down another backroad and you realized you were coming out by Pelham Bay Park. He pulled onto a side road, going down a couple of smaller turn offs before it opened up into the coastline and he backed up to the sand.

“C’mon.” He gestured, grabbing a blanket from the backseat before the two of you rounded the car and he was spreading it out on the trunk. He hopped up first, then took the drink tray from you, placing it to the side and gave you a hand getting up onto the trunk. “I like coming out here at night, it’s weirdly peaceful.”

“It is.” You smiled softly, relaxing against the back window next to Jose as your gaze drifted upwards, “I didn’t realize you could see so many stars and still technically be in the city. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah…” Joe’s eyes hadn’t moved from your face, watching the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, a small grin on his cheeks, “it really is.”

Etching the vision in front of him into his brain to never let go of the memory, Joe finally relaxed against the car, eyes focussed on the sky above him. His lips twitched up into a smile when your hand slid into his, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. The wind picked up, swooping the colder temperature of the water with it and you involuntary shivered, even with Joe’s hoodie wrapped around your frame.

“C’mere.” He lifted his arm, wrapping it around you and you shuffled closer to him.

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking furnace.” You nestled deeper into the embrace, curling around his side, your hand coming to rest on his chest as you looked up at him, laughing softly, “I don’t know why I’m surprised by that.”

Another breeze blew through the bay and Jose’s arm wrapped tighter around you, your breath catching in your throat at the way he was still gazing down at you. A few pieces of your hair caught in the wind and his free hand reached out, smoothing them back before he caressed down the side of your face, cupping your cheek. The butterflies in your stomach shot up to your chest, your heart rate picking up when he leant down, lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The jittering in your chest burst through you, a small sigh escaping your lips into the kiss and your hand slid up his chest, cupping the back of his neck as you kissed him back.

Your lips moved with ease against each other, there was almost a familiarity to the way he kissed you, it was incredibly soft, his thumb stroking across your cheek, urging you to fully melt into his arms. The breeze that wrapped around the two of you was no longer one that brought a chill, it instead warmed the night, bringing peace to your minds and little smiles to your lips. Smaller kisses broke through, unable to keep your lips from curving up until Joe leant back in with more fire, his tongue sliding across the seam of your lips and you parted them. His tongue snuck into your mouth, deepening the kiss as your nails scratched at the back of his head, pulling him impossibly close.

“God I could kiss you forever.” He muttered and you huffed out a laugh.

“Then you better not stop now.” You whispered back and he chuckled, leaning back in for another kiss.

Jose kept true to his word, kissing you breathless, until you were completely wrapped in bliss and no longer able to keep the smile off your face, the giggles escaping your kiss swollen lips. He tucked you into the crook of his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you relaxed against each other. It was only when you started to yawn heavily that he nudged at your side, insisting that he get you home so you could get your beauty sleep.

_____________

@witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girl girl @wandas-wife @katieslotherford @momlifebehard @dondivajade @misscharlielulu @alexxavicry @rosaliedepp @legit9thlunaticwarrior @daffodil-heart @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @silversprings-mp3 @blackbird-brewster

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #don't blame me #law and order svu #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

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gribbo · 3 months

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“You’re late,” Lady Linnacker observes.

Her minstrel doesn’t scowl at her. Nor does he smile. “Your driver was late.”

His commute each ninthday takes most of the morning: a furtive walk through Whitkeep and the squealing stockyards of Sowsfoot, then—eyes shut, jaw tight, tapping on his knee the notes of Partita in A minor—the ferry, then a ride to Ruth’s townhouse in her three-layer cake of a cabriolet. Gilded spokes. Mouldings like piped frosting. He’s fortunate, she’s assured him with that sly smile of hers, to be fetched in a carriage so fetching.

He surveys, with weary resolution, the tableau of her second-favorite parlor: his patroness lounging in the lemon chaise, hair piled atop her head in powdered plaits. Her granddaughter, her constant companion, sitting straight-backed on the tuffet. Light pouring through the picture-windows at the precise angle required to glitter on Ruth’s jewels.

“Let’s begin with Chrestobel,” she says brightly, “so you can snip at me for not practicing, and we can have it over.”

He’d have started her on scales. “If I’m ever short with you, my lady, I beg your—”

“Short?” Lady Linnacker’s eyes twinkle. Her latest motion must have passed, if she��s twinkling. “No, indeed—not even when my driver is late, and Riza and I are so terribly provoking. Have you been practicing, Riza?”

Little Fariza sits up straighter, if such a thing is possible. “Yes, Grandmama.”

“When I am provoking,” Ruth corrects herself, “and Riza”—she pinches the child’s cheek, extracting a giggle—“is a perfect doll.”

The minstrel smiles. Tightly.

His patroness stumbles through Chrestobel, somehow. He tries not to look too cross when, with great panache, she flubs every part he’d told her to practice—she claims to find his forthrightness adorable, a novelty in a life of deferential beneficiaries and servants with downcast eyes, but a patriar is a patriar. He doesn’t even glare at the footman who opens the sitting-room door, interrupting them. Ruth does it for him.

“I thought I told you,” she snaps, “that I’m not in—why, Enver,” she cries in quite a different voice, flying across the room, “whatever’s happened to your arm?”

The man in the doorway bows with a roguish flourish: some rising man of business, perhaps, hoping to glide into the Parliament of Peers on the opulent train of Ruth’s gown. Young, handsome, the usual. The arm that has caused such a stir is tucked to his chest in a gauzy sling.

“Wouldn’t you know it,” he says with a smile, offering her the other, “a stray dog bit me in the street. And here I thought I’d won the hearts and minds of the public.”

“How horrible.” Lady Linnacker’s laugh is light and droll. “Suppose it was mad? And contagious?”

“What is madness, Ruth, but the font of genius?” asks the man, looking pleased with both the rejoinder and himself. “A boon, in moderation—and it’s not so deep a bite. Milady.”

He bows grandly to Fariza, who curtsies like a wind-up doll. When her grandmother and the newcomer proceed in their turn about the room—a form of entertainment favored mostly, the minstrel thinks, by caged animals and the gentry—she glares at the man’s back and settles with studied hauteur on the minstrel’s bench. It’s close enough to the floor to spare her the indignity of climbing up. Him, too. He and the child are nearly of a height.

“You don’t like him, Frizz?” he asks in an undertone, passing her Ruth’s abandoned lute.

The little Linnacker—who will one day inherit her family’s fantastic fortune in mineral estates—lifts her chin in the sober, knowledgeable way that suggests she’s about to parrot her grandmother. “His father was a cobbler.”

“Without cobblers,” murmurs the minstrel, guiding her stubby fingers to the proper strings, “we’d all go barefoot.”

A wide-eyed Frizz absorbs this wisdom. Then she kicks out her feet to study her fashionable shoes. “He wants to buy one of Grandmama’s mines.”

“Does your lady grandmother”—he’d almost said grandmama—“want to sell?”

The child shrugs; Lady Linnacker’s machinations are a bit beyond her, yet. She plucks a note with pretty poise, back straight, lips parted in a practiced moue. “What did your father do?”

His father had pasted labels on pots of shoeshine. “What did your father do?”

The miniature of Ruth giggles at his gravity, or at the question, or at some fond memory attached. “Threw me in the air—”

“—of course you haven’t heard of him,” says Lady Linnacker, back within earshot. “His star rose and fell long before yours. But a century ago,” she adds, no doubt to remind her guest that he’s in the company of old, old money, “the people would fill the Wide to hear him play.” She beams with unprecedented radiance at the minstrel. “Silk, dear, won’t you privilege us with a song?”

“Me?” The minstrel blinks up at her, startled. He throws the child under the proverbial omnibus. “Mistress Fariza has been practicing The Little Teacup—”

Ruth’s smile sharpens. He frowns, taking her meaning, and opens his mouth to protest—

“Oh, Silk,” whispers Frizz, her little face filling with delight, “will you play the fast one?”

He plays the fast one. When he looks up halfway through, his neck prickles; Enver the cobbler’s son, with a strange smile, is studying him.

* * *

The minstrel can think of only one reason that Gortash, the mad wretch, would invite half the Steel Watch to his coronation. He nearly pushes over Duke Portyr when, across the hall, he spots that ridiculous powdered coiffure.

“Oh, Silk,” Lady Linnacker breathes, sinking down to him. “What’s happened to you?” Her hand flutters past his worm-ravaged face to tug his doublet. “I mean, really—puffed sleeves?”

“Ruth.” He could laugh. He could weep. There’s no time. “Walk out with us.”

“And be seen leaving early?” Her delicate brow creases at the notion. “Hardly the done thing—but it’s been so long. You must call on us soon.” Her smile is light and droll. Only a friend would note the strain about her eyes. “Riza will be so pleased to learn that you’ve returned.”

It strikes him like an arquebus. Fariza isn’t with her.

“Ruth,” he says, though he’s beginning to understand. Grief closes like a fist around his throat. “Everyone here is in terrible—”

“Terrible disarray, I know,” says Ruth. Only her hand shakes as she retrieves it, and only slightly. “Look at Portyr. His wig’s practically on backwards.”

"Ruth—"

She smiles down at him. He's always, despite his best interests, understood her smiles. “Be a dear and save my granddaughter.”

He walks out, somehow. Light pours through the fortress's windows, glittering on the Steel Watchers' hulls.

#hurray...sidequest #bg3 #microfic #oc tag #silk #and lady linnacker + her granddaughter + gortash

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stanchett · 1 year

Text

Here we go y’all!!! Enjoy ;)

Per usual, thanks so much to @zephyr-is-tired and @pro-weems-places for editing !!

AO3 Link

Nervous, Chapter 5

2.3k words

The next morning you decided to take things slow, eternally grateful for the dreamless slumber that you fell into the night before. Your only class on Thursdays was in the afternoon, so you had plenty of time to spare. You spent the early hours cleaning and organizing your apartment, your mind on Larissa the entire time.

“I wanted to let you know in case you found yourself… In need of anything from me.”

What was she implying? You would only “need” her if there was trouble brewing in your classroom, surely she hadn’t meant it in any way other than a professional one… But the way she said it had sent a shiver through you. You definitely “needed” her in more ways than one. You shook the thought away upon completing your tirade of tidiness across your home.

You leaned back on your kitchen counter to admire your work and an idea came to you: to reward yourself for completing your little task, you decided to head to the Weathervane for a fresh cup of coffee, as opposed to your usual dingy home-brew. Grabbing your coat and keys, you headed out the door with a wide grin.

—-------

It was a short walk to the café from your apartment, and you were grateful for the opportunity to enjoy the day a bit before being stuck in your classroom for the last part of it. You passed all the shops you had yet to set foot in as you were still relatively new to the area, and silently swore to visit them one day when you weren’t preoccupied with being such an introvert. You strode past a few fellow residents before reaching your destination, nodding in greeting as they passed you on the sidewalk.

Pulling open the glass door, you spotted an empty booth beside the window and sat down immediately, relieved the lobby was almost empty. You had only been in a few times, but recognized the barista, Tyler, as he made his way over to you. You greeted him with a tight-lipped smile.

“What can I get you today, Ms… Y/L/N?” he asked, unsure whether or not he remembered your name correctly. You nodded in confirmation and he looked relieved for a moment before pulling out a small notepad.

“I think I’ll just go with a latte today, and maybe a croissant?”

Tyler nodded in agreement, taking down your order before flipping the notepad shut. You mumbled your thanks as he turned back in the direction of the counter to make it for you.

After he left you sat in silence for a beat, admiring the view from the large window beside you, and allowed yourself to become lost in thought. You watched the people of Jericho bustling about, tending to their own affairs, when your mind wandered back to Larissa. You wondered what she was up to, what kind of “conference” she had to attend today.

As if beckoned by your contemplation of her, you turned your attention forward as a large figure swept down onto the cushioned bench across from you.

“What a lovely surprise,” Larissa teased, her presence catching you off guard. You didn’t even see her come in. Had she been there the whole time? Had she been watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to descend upon you? The mug in her hand was only half filled, indicating she had already been there prior to your arrival.

Your jaw fell in surprise for a moment before you picked it back up again in your attempt to gather yourself. “Hey, I thought you had a conference...?” you asked dumbly, almost ashamed at how shaken your voice sounded.

“Oh yes, it’s here in Jericho. I thought it easier to stay in town for it as opposed to making the commute,” she offered with an easy smile before raising the cup to her lips. Her ocean blue eyes swept over you as she swallowed, and you looked away nervously. You hoped the blush creeping up your neck wasn’t too obvious to her as she looked you over. You glanced back her way as she lowered it back onto the table, a faint print of her lipstick lingering on the mug’s ceramic surface. Suddenly, you found yourself wishing to be that very mug.

At that moment, Tyler returned to your table, your refreshments in-hand. He arranged them in front of you and you immediately scooped up the hot beverage, desperate for something to busy your hands with. You sipped it with a hum of approval, the temperature burning your tongue on the way down. The barista then turned his attention to Larissa.

“It’s been nice seeing you again Ms. Weems, Ms. Y/L/N didn’t tell me she had a date.”

A dribble of coffee fell from your mouth and your free hand fumbled to conceal it, blush now fully apparent at Tyler’s words. Before you could backpedal the conversation, Larissa jumped in with her own reply to his assumption.

“Yes, she is a rather quiet one, isn’t she?” Your eyes widened as she threw a wink in your direction. Tyler fished for a napkin in the pocket of his apron, handing it over to you with a confused look.

“Well, enjoy,” he stated with a final nod before leaving the two of you alone again. You cleaned up your spilled coffee in a hurry. Larissa must have thought you a slob and a scatter-brain, but that was only true in her presence. Great.

“You must be more careful in your efforts to consume beverages, Sweetheart. We can’t have you choking, now.”

Your mouth ran dry despite the remnants of the coffee you had swallowed only moments ago. Reaching toward you, her fingers took the napkin from your grasp and she dabbed at a spot at the corner of your mouth that you had missed, before folding it and placing it on the table. Checking her watch, she excused herself from you all too suddenly.

“I must be going Y/N, my meeting will be starting shortly. I’m so glad I ran into you, Darling. See you later.” She left just as quickly as she’d come, leaving both you and her mug behind. You had no doubt you looked like a fool to her, having hardly contributed to the conversation at all. She jumbled your thoughts so badly, you couldn’t help but stay silent.

Finishing up your small breakfast, your eyes kept coming back to her mug, the overlapping lipstick marks now seared into your memory. You wondered how the shade would look in contrast with your skin. Sliding out of the booth reluctantly, you left the tab and tip on the table with your now empty dishes. Part of you was relieved to have a break from Larissa, but more so you yearned to be with her again. She made a mess of you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

—-------

The afternoon came upon you more quickly than you had anticipated and before you knew it, you were wrapping up the day’s lesson for your class. Handing out their graded exams, you passed Margo’s desk and offered her a smile.

“I think I’m ready to retake it,” she said, keeping her voice low enough to avoid comments from her fellow classmates. You gave her a thumbs-up and carried on past her seat.

The majority of the class had filed out of the room when the young girl approached your desk, sharpened pencil in hand. You passed off a freshly-printed copy of the assignment to her, and she lowered herself back into her desk, razor-sharp focus etched onto her features from the moment she wrote her name atop it.

In total, it took her about an hour to finish filling out the sheet. You didn’t anticipate staying late at school, but you didn’t mind it. With the shortening autumn days, the sky began to darken earlier than you liked. It was flooded with various shades of pink and orange when Margo approached your desk again, a wide grin on her face.

“Done,” she said, her excitement clear in her features. You took the exam from her and returned her smile, placing it on the table before you. “Thanks again Ms. Y/L/N, I really appreciate you giving me another chance. See you next week!” Gathering her belongings, you bid her farewell in return.

“No problem, have a great evening!” You were relieved to be alone again and the moment the door clicked shut, you glanced over the sheet on your desk. You read over her answers quickly, scanning through the paper. You didn’t even need a red pen to make corrections. She’d aced it.

A relieved sigh left you, much like the one the girl would likely let out upon being presented with her results, and you slid the sheet into the back of a folder of other tests to be graded. It was then you realized you might as well get to grading them - you loved leaving your 3-day weekends free to do as you pleased.

You shuffled through your tote bag and pulled out your headphones. Putting on your favorite music, you cranked up the volume and freed the contents of the folder, red pen finding your fingers as you placed the stack in front of you and set to work. Might as well make the task a little more enjoyable.

—-------

Larissa arrived back at her office just as the sun was setting, the fading light bathing the room in warm orange tones. Removing her heels, she sighed in relief, setting her laptop and a stack of papers and pamphlets on her desk. She was grateful to finally have a moment to herself, as these conferences were so tiresome and never interested her in the slightest. She only kept up her attendance of them to keep Nevermore in the conversation.

The fireplace roared to life as she switched the pilot on, its warmth washing over her. She then reached into the bottom drawer of her desk, taking the fresh bottle of red wine from where it stood, corkscrew coming with it. Releasing its seal with a pop, the liquid flowed into the crystal clear glass she held below its neck, before she lowered herself into her seat facing the flames.

She closed her eyes for a moment before her thoughts veered to you. She wondered what you were up to. Upon her arrival, she thought she had noticed your classroom light left on through the window behind her desk. Taking a long sip from her glass, she then placed it down, walking on tip toes to her desk to retrieve her binoculars.

She eased the curtains aside to make more room for her form, quickly noting that your overhead fluorescent lights were definitely still on. She raised the binoculars to aid her in her curiosity, gaze immediately falling on you seated at your desk, writing away.

She smiled to herself as she observed you, finding it infinitely amusing when you bopped your head to the tune in your ears that she wished she could hear herself. Larissa giggled to herself when the tune in your headphones must have reached a particular crescendo, and you broke out in a small fit of air drumming in the empty space before you.

An idea struck her in that moment; perhaps it was the alcohol that spurred her on, or maybe your adorable display, and she stepped back in the direction of her laptop. Typing up a quick email, she sent it your way before she could stop herself.

—-------

You were two-thirds of the way through your grading endeavor when your phone pinged beside you. You unlocked it confidently, but the red “1” was back to haunt you. Pausing your music, you opened it to find Larissa’s email. What was she doing messaging you after school hours?

Reading it over, your heart stopped. How did the principal know you were still here? Turning your head to the window, you noticed a glow coming from her office. She must have come back from the conference. Your eyes regarded her message once more, a sense of panic running through you.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Please see me immediately to discuss your extensive hours of overtime.

Thank you.

Regards,

Larissa Weems

Were you in trouble? Just yesterday you were caught going through her things in her office and now this? Fuck her. The rebellious streak of your youth got the better of you again all these years later, and you dropped your pen on the desk before stomping your way to the principal’s office, not even bothering to lock up behind you.

—-------

You didn’t waste your time knocking on the door when you approached, the rest of the school having been long settled in for the night. You burst in to find her leaning over the desk like a lioness on the prowl, her palms flat on its surface and her eyes trained on you as you let yourself in. You couldn’t contain your frustration any longer and it flowed into your words, making you sound more angry than you perhaps meant to. Your feet carried you up to her desk, and you found yourself face to face with the object of your desires once again.

“What is your deal with me? You think you can screw with my head, treat me like I’m your toy and tease me whenever you’d like?” You allowed your feelings to take hold of your words but kept yourself from raising your voice at her, as much as you would’ve liked to. She had kept you on edge for days, both in your waking and unconscious hours. You leaned into her, reaching deep within yourself to bury the anxious nature she brought about in you. “Well? Make your move… Larissa.”

The use of her first name caught her by surprise, and she raised an eyebrow at your sudden nerve. It didn’t escape your notice that she was staring at your lips. Your face was red-hot you knew, both in anger and a wave of sudden arousal. She didn’t pull away from you, rather whispered against your lips.

“The last move is yours to make, Darling.”

tags: @alienstookourstars @enchantressb @justcallmelittleone @im-a-carnivorous-plant @gwendolinechristieiscute @weemssapphic @larissaoftarthweems @imean-its-just-me @poorwritingandstalecoffee @jelly-frogss @sapphire-moment @readingtheentrails @brienneswife @kimiinou @just-your-casual-nerd (apologies if I missed anyone!!)

#larrisa weems #larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie #requests #my fics

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 2 years

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Prompt 7 of 12 with Nanami Kento (Requested)

Warnings: Drunk Nanami is dangerous to the heart.

You’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer for YEARS, you’ve seen everything.

The terrifying, the disgusting, the downright ridiculous and the outright mad.

Suffice it to say, you’ve seen some shit, but this, this takes the cake, because of all weird, wacky and horrible things, what surprises you most, is finding Nanami Kento outside a bar on your way home from a case, slumped against a wall.

At first, you assumed he’d had his own assignment and made your way over to offer your help, but the moment he looked up, glasses discarded and eyes glazed over, you realised that wasn’t the case.

Still, you didn’t believe your eyes, but couldn’t deny your nose when he stood straight and the smell of alcohol and smoke rolled off him.

‘Uh, Nanami? Were you... drinking?’

‘You sound surprised,’

Was he...smiling? Freely, with flushed cheeks and blood shot eyes and a slouch to his regularly perfect posture. Is that a tear in his jacket? Where in the world is his tie?

‘Probably because I am!’ You mutter jovially. ‘You good? Know your way home?’

Not that you were letting him take himself home from this.

Kento sighs, shoulders relaxed as he runs a hand through his hair. ‘Not really, I don’t think this was the bar I started out in. Gojo started it, and I’m...not entirely sure where he ended up either.’

‘Meh, he’ll live.’ You shrug, glancing at your phone to check the time. ‘It’s three in the morning, and we’re on the other side of the city. I’ve got a hotel booked down the road, might be easier just to head there.’

‘Honestly (Y/N),’ as he chuckled, Nanami swayed precariously on his feet, ‘I’ll follow you.’

‘Come on then, Mr Perfect.’ You wink flirtatiously, linking your arm through his, only to realise it would be easier to throw his arm over your shoulders and help steady him. ‘Not far to go.’

A series of unintelligible garbles is all that Nanami replies with, muttering the tail-ends of random thoughts falling sporadically from his lips as you completed your short trip to the hotel room you’d set up in for the night. Tokyo’s a big city, and you can’t stand commuting.

The woman behind the desk doesn’t ask, barely even looks up long enough to see you flash her your room key and a heart stopping smile on your way to the elevator. It’s the graveyard shift, you can’t blame her, but judging from the resting bitch face, she earned the shift.

Kento dropped his head on your shoulder, his breath gently fanning against your skin.

It was so far out of character for him that you genuinely had no idea what to do with yourself. You’ve been flirting with the man since the day you met him, and the longer it went on, the more serious that flirting became. Your feelings for him were a secret to no one, but he’s never reciprocated in any satisfactory way.

Not like this...

The moment you shut the room door behind you, Kento slides onto the bed, starfishing across the king-size sheets.

‘Oi, you do realize you smell like a bar, right?’ You called playfully, throwing off your jacket and gloves. ‘At least shower and go puke before you pass out drunk.’

‘As if you don’t stink yourself into your sheets every night. By now I've come to accept that you’re just scent marking.’

‘Oh, fuck you.’

‘Mmn, fuck me.’

Eyes going wide, you blinked and pinched your thigh. ‘What?’

Kento slid back against the headboard, letting it prop him up. ‘What?’

‘I asked you first! And you said a swear word other than shit!’

Your voice cracked, throat constricted at the sight of the man you’ve been head over heels for since you were in school, perfectly, beautifully, deliciously dishevelled and looking at you with those stunning eyes of his.

‘Never known you to turn down a challenge, (Y/N),’ before your very eyes, Nanami Kento winked, and lazily patted his thigh, ‘What, never expected me to call your bluff?’

‘You’re drunk, and my feelings aren’t a joke, no matter how much I treat them like they are.’

The smile on his face falls away, it’s as if he’s sobered all at once. ‘You’re not a joke, you never were. If anything, I’m the joke for needing something as ridiculous as alcohol to have the courage to say what you’ve been showing for years.’

‘...what?’

Kento sighs, his lips curved in a smile you could only call adoring.

‘I love you too.’

@mystikawi

#jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #teeth rotting fluff #gnreader #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff

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lou-struck · 1 year

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Aren't They Perfect?

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea

~You get hit with a quirk that makes a marble copy of you. But is that all it really does?

~This is my Submission for @dark-mnjiro's Taste of Divine Rush Collab. LINK HERE

WC: 4.3k

WARNINGS: Lots of swearing, Mental health is discussed heavily, reader has low self esteem to begin with but it is twisted into obsession thanks to the quirk, multiple voices in reader's head, reader passing out, injury, intentionally skipping a meal, really creepy marble statues, reader goes temporarily crazy.

A/n: This fic is inspired by Ovid’s epic tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, but it is not a retelling. The projection of the reader's feelings in a way gives life to the statue.

There is just something so innately adult about walking through the bustling city streets holding a drink carrier. A few people spare you a glance and step out of your path so you do not spill the sweet caffeinated liquid.

You can see the tall tinted windows of your boyfriend’s Hero Agency off in the distance. It’s a bit out of the way from your usual commute, but Katsuki had forgotten his wallet on the kitchen counter this morning, so you thought it would be best to drop it off for him as well as a cup of coffee and an overpriced croissant from the cafe’s display case.

Noble intentions aside, you are mostly just stopping by to see his grumpily handsome face before he has to go out on patrol.

The doors part for you as you are overwhelmed by the high-pitched shrieks of what looks to be a whole class of elementary schoolers, who look so excited to be visiting your boyfriend’s hero agency. It’s a bit unnerving to see dozens of children just wandering the office halls. Field trips may be normal occurrences for other hero agencies, but this is Dynamite’s Agency we are talking about. Katsuki Bakugou isn’t known for his child-friendly language.

Speaking of child-friendly language, you spot a frazzled middle-aged woman with bright orange hair and an electric blue dress who mouths what can only be an f-bomb as she runs around trying to wrangle all the students.

But when they see you, a new face in the building, many of them stop in their tracks and begin to wave at you and smile with gap-toothed grins.

“Hi there, I’m Ovid.” a little boy with long black curls poking out from underneath his red baseball cap says, stepping forward. “Are you a hero?

You shake your head, “Nope, just dropping something off for Dynamite.”

At the mention of the explosion hero, they look excited and start looking around, chattering amongst themselves.

You shoot the lady from earlier (who must be their teacher) a sympathetic glance as she tries to calm down the once again rowdy students who seem to have forgotten you were there.

Head off down the sunlight hallway; the office seems like a second home after all the hours you have spent with Katsuki. There are little touches of you all around the building, ranging from the artwork you have picked out to the blooming houseplants that rest by the tall windows.

The blinds inside his office are drawn, which tells you he is inside, most likely reading one of the romance novels he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk.

As you push open the door, you hear the slight crinkling of pages and the closing of his desk drawer. The familiar noise made you smile; you were right.

He looks up quickly from his desk, ready to yell at whoever disturbed his peaceful morning, but quickly clams up when he notices just how sweetly you are standing in the doorway.

“Did you really have to sneak up on me like that?” he asks, stepping out from behind the desk, “I almost blasted ya into next week.”

“Your poor sidekicks, do you treat all of them like this when I am not here?” You laugh, raising an inquisitive brow at the solid wall of muscle and spiky hair in front of you.

“Only the dumb ones,” he mumbles, and you really aren’t sure if he is telling the truth or not.

“You have visitors,” you hum, holding out his pastry and drink for him to take.

“I don’t wanna deal with any damn brats this morning,” he grumbles, taking a deep swig from his coffee cup. You smile at his words, knowing that he was the one who signed off on allowing the elementary students to come visit his agency.

“I got your wallet,” you say, reaching into your bag and pulling out the heavy black leather pouch.

“I know,” He smiles wickedly, taking it from you and tossing it carelessly behind him. “I knew you would bring it over when you saw it.”

Wow, did you, a full-grown adult, really leave your wallet behind just so I would take the time to visit you at work?”

“Yeah, so what?” he shrugs, casually wrapping his arms around you. And you think to yourself just how childish he can be sometimes. Maybe he should go and spend some time with the elementary schoolers downstairs for a bit.

Your gaze drifts to the clock on the wall. “Oh shit, I gotta go,” you say, twisting out of his grasp easily, not spilling a drop of coffee as you do so.

“You know,” he pouts, puffing out his cheeks and exhaling, “you wouldn’t have to leave me so much if you just got a job here.”

You smile softly, having had this conversation at least a dozen or so times since he opened the place, “If we worked together, we wouldn’t last. You’re way too bossy.”

Although you say the words teasingly, you know that’s not the reason why you don’t want to spend more time with him; Even since you started seeing each other, there has been this little voice in your head nagging you and telling you something you are sure everyone else says.

‘Katsuki Bakugou is too damn good for you, and everyone knows it.’

But you have been trying to fix that little problem by doing whatever you can to better yourself. You are up for a promotion at work, and if you get it, you could be seen as more worthy of the Hero.

“Bossy?” he states, pulling you from your thoughts, “I’m only bossy when these extras don’t know what they’re supposed to be doing.”

He opens the door for you and leads you down the hallway from which you came. Glancing in the reflection of the dark conference room mirror, you see a million and one imperfections.

Does he see them too?

From down the hallway, you hear the teacher from earlier calling after one of her students. “Ovid, come back here.”

Turning head, you see the little box with the red baseball cap rushing down the hallway.

“Mr. Dynamite, Mr. Dynamite,” he calls, smiling happily. “Check out my quirk.” a soft gray light begins to crackle at his fingertips as he runs towards the two of you.

It is just so adorable to see the little guy trying to show off his quirk to his childhood hero; you smile. But Katsuki’s eyes widen in concern.

“Hey, slow down. Stop running before you~” he starts to stop the boy, but it is too late; the pair of little feet rushing towards you trip over themselves, sending him crashing to the ground and his quirk directly at you.

Your coffee hits the ground before you do…

You are awakened by the soft sound of the hospital monitors checking your vitals. Everything feels a bit fuzzy as you try to remember what exactly happened to put you in this condition.

The last thing you remember was Katsuki walking you out of the agency and then one of the kids….

Oh, right, you got hit with a quirk…

You stir just a bit as the feeling begins to return to your body. You don’t know why, but your limbs feel as heavy as stone. At your movement, you hear a breath that is not your own.

Katsuki sits right next to the hos[ital bed, his crimson gaze staring at you intently. “You’re awake.” The relief is evident on his features as he looks you over. “How do you feel?”

“Like a million bucks.” you rasp, stretching your arms and sitting up. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” he replies, watching your movements carefully. “That brat was lucky his quirk was harmless.”

“Oh my god, is Ovid okay?” you ask, remembering the red-capped child.

Katsuki scoffs, “Brat’s fine; he was just crying until the ambulance came to get you.

“But?” there is something else he is not telling you.

“The kid’s quirk is called Sculptor,” He sighs, “It’s supposed to be harmless, but he can make marble copies of the things he hits with it.

You nod carefully as your still-tired brain processes what he had just said, ‘So there is just a big marble sculpture of me in the middle of your agency?” you ask awkwardly.

“Nah, I had the sidekicks drop it at home until we decide what to do with it,” he says, and you grimace.

Why would anyone want a marble sculpture of someone like you?

“Is it big?” you ask, brushing the thought away.

“It’s fuckin life-size, you gotta see it.” he laughs, the sound ugly and boisterous like a hyena as it echoes off the white walls, but it’s cute in its own way.

“When can I leave?” you ask, already thinking about how you can get the new decoration out of your hair. You heard that there are repurposing centers that can recycle the material for a low cost.

“Right now,” he smiles, helping you out of the bed. Your legs are shaky, but you are excited to get home. “I called your work, and you are off for the rest of the week, so take it easy and take a seat.” He pulls out the wheelchair from behind him and gestures for you to sit in it.

“Do I really have to do that?” you ask, looking between him and the chair, “I feel fine.”

He sighs. “It’s some damn hospital policy; they won’t let me take ya if I don’t wheel you out.”

You playfully roll your eyes and sit in the chair, it doesn’t take long for you to be discharged, but before you leave, one of your doctors stops you.

“If you start to feel anything strange at all, don’t hesitate to come back. The child responsible is currently having his quirk reevaluated, so if anything comes up, we will contact you.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “If anything changes, we will let you know.”

The doctor nods before leaving the two of you, taking a whole group of residents with her.

“Hey,” Katsuki asks en route to the car, “Are you sure you’re okay? You had me scared for a second.”

“Please don’t worry, I’m fine,” you say now, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Are you going to go back to the Agency when we get home?”

“Hell no, you dumbass,” he yells in the usual Katsuki fashion, still opening the car door for you like a gentleman. “I ain’t leaving you after you’ve been in the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” you huff, climbing out of the chair and into the passenger seat.

He ignores this and drops the chair off at the front of the hospital, handing it to a flustered-looking nurse and stalking back toward the vehicle.

No doubt ready to get rid of you…

The ride is uncomfortably silent for both of you. But as you drive down the road, you can’t help but feel drained. Especially after you pass the agency where this whole mess started.

Your mind drifts to what must’ve happened right after you collapsed, and you clench your fist to hide your embarrassment.

You never have been a pretty sleeper; you probably don’t look that much better unconscious. You hope you weren’t too messy to deal with.

“Hey, we’re home,” he says, pulling into the garage. “Can you get out by yourself?”

You nod and slide right out of the seat.

“Tell me if you’re gonna pass out again,” he says clearly, still worried about you.

He shouldn’t waste his valuable time thinking about you.

You walk to the door, Katsuki hovering behind you just in case you faint again. Your body feels a bit weak, but you wouldn’t tell him that.

If you seem like too much trouble, he may not want to be with you anymore

Or worse, he feels forced to stay with you.

You look back at him and give him your most convincing smile. “So, where is the statue?”

“The extras put it in the living room,” he answers.

“Does it really look like me?” you ask?

“I dunno; I was too worried about you to look at the damn thing.”

Walking into the living room, you are almost blinded by the large white statue that sits right in the middle of the carpet.

“Wow,” you say, approaching the base and running your hand along the arm of the statue. It’s smooth to the touch and soothingly cool against your kinda clammy hands.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was life-sized.” squinting, you get a closer look at all the little details in the marble. Everything from the coffee in your hand to the aglets on your shoelaces was turned into solid marble, but when you look at the face of this ‘copy of you,’ you don’t see a resemblance at all.

It looks plain, not like you at all. It actually looks kinda beautiful. Almost as if Pygmillion carved it out of stone himself, like in the Greek myth.

“At least it’s not naked,” you say dryly, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend in response. “But other than the clothes, I don’t think it looks like me.”

He looks a bit confused and looks between you and the statue, but you feel his gaze rests longer on the statue than on you. “It’s a damn copy, but you’re not made of stone, so, of course, it looks different.”

You shake your head no but say no more on the subject. It’s tiring to try and correct him when you know he is just trying to be nice to you.

How could you ever look like this statue? Where are your pores, your scraps, your moles and bumps?

You could only wish to look like it.

The frown still sits on his face in your silence. “Well, come on, how about I make us some dinner, and we can watch a movie later or somethin?” he offers. Quality time is rare between the two of you, but for some reason, you feel like you don’t deserve it tonight.

“Umm, actually, I’m not feeling too great; I think I may just go to bed,” you mumble, stepping away from him.

“Not even dinner?” he calls as you walk into the bedroom.

“I’m feeling kinda nauseous,” you lie, ignoring your quietly growling stomach. “I think it’s a side effect from the quirk.”

“I’ll make you some damn soup,” he says, “You need to eat somethin.”

Why is he pressuring you so much? Everything would be so much easier if he just let you go to bed.

He doesn’t have to keep pretending to care about you.

“Katsuki,” you snap in a much louder voice than you meant to. “Just let me go to bed, it’s been a long day, and I just want to not feel like shit.”

He flinches a bit at your unusually harsh tone but stays where he is. “Fine,” he snaps back. “Excuse me for trying to help you. You’re just damn ungrateful.” His words hurt too.

But they are deserved.

You really are ungrateful.

You just need to give him space.

Heading into the bedroom, you lie down and close your eyes. In the darkness, you lay there for a long time, just thinking about how much of an inconvenience today has been for Katsuki. He had to take the rest of the day off to take care of you, leaving him with what you can only assume to be mountains of paperwork.

Not to mention, You probably terrified those poor kids, scaring them for life. The doctors wasted a bed on you when you were completely fine.

They should’ve just left you on the floor of the agency. You were far enough to the side you wouldn’t have been in anyone’s way.

A few tears of frustration well in your eyes; they can’t even fall properly. Dripping onto the dark pillowcase in fat, unsightly blobs.

The door opens a crack, and Katsuki comes in.

Sneakily you wipe away your tears and act as if you are sleeping. You don’t want to say anything else to him that you regret. You’re as stiff as a board as he brushes his teeth, does his skincare routine, and changes into his sleep sweats.

The dip in the mattress tells you that he is in bed with you.

His breath is shaky, and even with your eyes closed, you feel him looking at you.

You wish he wouldn’t.

It could give him bad dreams.

You feel his warm, soft lips kiss your forehead tenderly. The act of intimacy makes you want to sob into his chest, but you stay composed.

You’ve always been an ugly crier.

“Goodnight, babe,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair carefully behind your ear. “You really scared me today, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lays back against his own pillow, and it only takes a few minutes for the soft sound of his snoring to fill the room, but you stay awake, reflecting on his last two words.

‘Are you okay?’

The night has been long and restless. Despite how tired you feel, you cannot for the life of you fall asleep. The stress from the day pricks your skin like needles making you feel stiff and tense.

Usually, when Katsuki’s arms are wrapped around you, you are out like a light but now…

You are just thinking about how uncomfortable he must be

Your body is too warm and clammy to be soothing

You look at him, sleeping peacefully, and sigh deeply. The intake tugging at your heartstrings in sorrow.

He probably would prefer it if you were made of something as cool as marble.

Just through the crack in the door, you see the bright white of the statue. Its milky white face visible in the moonlight.

They’re looking at you…

What an odd pair the two of you must make, The Hero and the Zero.

It’s too much; you can’t sleep in this room tonight. Carefully you twist your way out of Katsuki's Caramel scented embrace and replace your form with a long body pillow. His brow furrows, but you are sure he’s fine.

He’ll sleep better if you aren’t near him.

Your feet carry you out the bedroom door and out into the living room where they are waiting; the pleasant smile on their poreless face greets you as you lay down on the faux leather couch next to it.

The moonlight illuminates their pearly white features giving them such a heavenly glow.

You could never look that angelic.

You don’t understand how, but the statue even makes your clothes look as if they belong in a museum. Tired eyes rake over each and every last detail of the marble until sleep finally comes to you.

“What the hell are you doing on the couch?” a voice asks, pulling you from your dark and dreamless sleep. Your eyes shoot open and immediately come to rest on the statue.

Can it speak now?

You look to it for answers, but Its lips remain sealed in that mysterious little smile.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” the voice asks again. The sound coming from behind you. You reluctantly turn away from the work of art and see Katsuki.

“Mornin Suki,” you say softly, looking up at him with lidded eyes.

You hate the way your voice sounds so early in the morning.

“I said, what the hell are you doing on the couch?” he says; he looks so hurt and confused.

Did he want to be the first one to see it this morning?

“I couldn’t sleep,” you reply, “It was too warm with the two of us, and I didn’t want to wake you with all my tossing and turning.”

“Then why didn’t you sleep in the guest room? It’s creepy to be out here layin’ next to that creepy statue.”

Creepy? This statue is perfect. It’s better than you will ever be; how can he so easily insult it.

What does he say about you behind your back?

“You’ve been acting strange,” he says, looking at you with concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, just tired,” you say, using the same excuse you gave him last night. “I couldn’t sleep; I think I’m just gonna lay down and go back to bed.”

You should’ve just said that, but of course, you and your big mouth had to add one more little comment.

“God knows I could use some beauty sleep.”

Your words seem to echo through the apartment, but your stature gives you a little smile of approval. What you said is true, but why does Katuski look so mad?

You are beautiful.” he says, stepping closer. He looks at you with such a sickenly pitiful expression, and he doesn’t touch you at all. He just stares.

You stay there in silence until his phone starts to ring. He answers it at the first chime.

No doubt waiting for an excuse to be away from you

“I have to take this; I’ll be right back, okay,” he says, putting the phone to his ear and leaving the room.

Alone again with the statue, you give it your full attention once again, turning your head to admire it from a different angle.

How could he say it is creepy?

He settles for you; why doesn’t he just enjoy the You that You could never be?

It’s then you catch a speck of dust settled on the tip of its nose in the sunlight.

It’s dirty…

It has a flaw…

Maybe he hates it because it reminds him of you…

You are filled with a desire to fix it, rushing to the storage closet to grab an armload of dust cloths to wipe the whole thing down.

It needs to be perfect…

At least one of you does, or else…

You are sobbing by the time you reach its base. You frantically clean the surface, wiping your hand over every inch. Your head is pounding, but through your sobs, you hear something else,

Screaming?

Cheering?

It’s all the same now.

You are pulled away roughly from The Marble perfection, and you shriek as you are carried farther and farther away from it. Only when the bedroom door closes fully, and it is out of your sight, do you realize that Katuski was the one who pulled you away.

He drops you gently on the bed but positions himself between you and the door, his muscles a wall of their own.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, already trying to rush past him

“I’m helping you,” he yells back, throwing the two of you down onto the bed. This time he refuses to let you go.

He must really hate touching you like this.

But if you clean the rest of the statue, he may love you again.

“I need to see it,” you cry, squirming in his hold, your nails scratching down his forearm hard. “I need to fix it. It’s so dirty; that’s why you don’t love it.”

“I don’t need to love a damn statue,” he hisses at the pain but still holds you closer. “I have you, and I am trying to help you.”

Help you? Is that what he calls it?

Isn’t he trying to leave you?

The fight leaves your body, and you lay limp against him. Your eyes look up at his face expecting to see anger or disgust in the depths of his crimson gaze, but you see that somewhere in your struggle, he is crying too.

“Can’t you see?” you ask in a broken whisper, “They’re perfect; if you don’t want them, then you would never want me?”

His arms wrap tighter around you, physically shaking from the restraint he has placed on his own emotions. More than “They are not real, it’s just a damn statute y/n, I don’t want them. Please, let me talk to you.” Through your exhaustion and distress, his words manage to reach you. You nod softly, not having the energy to do anything else but realize something else.

Not all your thoughts are your own…

“Thank you,” he says gently, “I just got off the phone with the teacher of the kid who hit you yesterday,” his eyes scan your face, making sure you are listening to him. “That Ovid kid’s quirk is more complicated than they realized. It does more than just make statues of the things it hits; it can mess with people’s heads if they stay too close to their own statues.”

You blink slowly, shaking away a melancholy fog you didn’t even realize had settled over you. “I-It’s the quirk?”

He nods, holding you a bit gentler. “Yes, we gotta smash the damn thing, and you’ll feel better.”

“Smash, the statue?” you repeat.

‘Why would you do that?’ The voice masquerading as your innermost thoughts of insecurity asks, trying to coax you back into the fog. But this time, you won’t let it.

“We are going to fuck that shit up.” he chuckles, wiping away your tears. “So you think you can do it?”

You nod, “I think so.”

“Atta girl.” his hand flies up to ruffle your hair as you giggle, weakly trying to hit it away.

As a man who appreciates some good old-fashioned destruction, Katsuki has a few sledgehammers just lying around. Once the two of you have some protective eyewear on, you are ready to head back to face the statue.

As you approach it, you take one last look at its face.

You see the familiar curve of your nose and chin.

“It kind of does look like me,” you say as your boyfriend puts an encouraging hand on your shoulder.

“You’re way better than this hunk of rock.” he laughs wickedly. The sound fills you with your daily dose of dopamine.

“You’re right,” you giggle, “Let’s smash it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#todrcollab #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #Katsuki bakugou x reader #x reader #mha #🚫DC #<- Possibly... IDK

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laurenairay · 1 year

Text

Déjà-Brew – E. Pettersson

Here a little fic I wrote for @ryngrvs birthday celebrations!! I chose the bingo strip of: ‘unrequited love’, ‘handwritten notes’, ‘mutual pining’, ‘you make me better’, ‘golden retriever x black cat’.

I had a lot of fun writing this and creating all the little things that went into it, and I’m definitely indulging in the fantasies of my teenage barista self. And yes, I definitely fudged the Canucks schedule for November. I hope you enjoy this C! Happy birthday 💛

Summary: Elias Pettersson walked into a coffee shop one morning and met Joanna.

Word count: 8.2k

Warnings: light angst, fluff, pining

Elias was restless. He had a call scheduled with his agent first thing this Monday morning, 9am, but it was only 6am and he couldn’t sleep. It was ridiculous really, that on a rare day off training, his body woke up anyway, but here he was wide awake with no hope of slipping back into sleep. There was no point just lying there, staring up at the ceiling either. So with a sigh and a brief close of his eyes, he pushed himself upright, reluctantly kicking the warmth of the duvet away. A brief run outside would be productive at least, right? And he could definitely zone out enough to not have to wake up fully. It was better than lazing around and he could absolutely use it to humble-brag to his teammates later – perfect.

By the time he stepped outside into the brisk September air, Elias did regret trying to be proactive a little bit, but it was too late now. He’d committed to it, and it would make the trainers happy if nothing else. So he set off, music providing the perfect backdrop to drown out the sparse early morning commuter traffic, leaving him to lightly jog down the streets of his neighbourhood in an eerily empty bliss. He knew he didn’t spend enough time exploring his surrounding area, noting the cafes and bars and restaurants in passing that he didn’t recognise, all of them still dim in the grey morning light. Maybe he should do this more often – coming out and seeing the world while it was relatively empty, cementing his place in the city that he hoped to call his own for a long time to come.

He ran and he ran and he ran, losing himself in his thoughts until his watch beeped loudly, telling him he’d run a full 3 miles; 45 minutes had flown by, without evening realising it. Elias winced as he slowed down to a stop, realising he was a long way from his apartment now, and turned around with a quiet groan to start the journey back. The sun was starting to rise now, just around 7am, so he knew the world would start coming alive soon, something he was hoping to avoid. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the fans, especially the little kids who were always so happy to see him, but at this time in the morning it was the last thing he wanted to do, to make polite small talk when he was only thinking about coffee and breakfast.

Actually, coffee wasn’t a bad idea.

By the time he’d made it back to his neighbourhood, to the cafes and bars and restaurants he’d passed earlier, he noticed one little light on. A coffee shop – exactly what he needed. Déjà-Brew. Huh, a pun he didn’t automatically hate. That was something new. And it only 7.30am, so it was too early for anyone other than office commuters to be around, which was even better.

Elias found himself slowing down to a stop outside the shop, turning his music off and tugging out his headphones, noticing there were barely any customers. Perfect. He’d been hoping for, and expecting, the warmth that hit him like a wall as he opened the door, the familiar scent of freshly-ground coffee beans, the cosy armchairs and rickety tables, and the splashes of colour in the artwork across the walls.

What he wasn’t expecting was the beaming smile that greeted him the moment he walked through the door.

“Good morning Sunshine!”

That…that was a lot of pep.

“Um, hello?” he offered, a lot more hesitant that he expected.

The girl behind the counter just laughed, smile staying present, and tilted her head, copper hair shining in the bright lights of the store.

“What can I get for you, on this beautiful day?”

Still cheerful, still upbeat, still smiling. And as he walked up to the counter, he noticed exactly how beautiful that smile was, matching the person wearing it. That was a weird thought. But it was true, all the same.

“A large cappuccino?” he asked, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Sure thing! What name, and is that to have in or take out?”

“Elias. Take out. I’ve got to get back to a meeting,” he admitted, a little sheepishly.

What had prompted him to say that? He didn’t even know this girl…and yet here he was, blurting out things that she didn’t need to know.

But she just giggled, nodding. “Rather you than me – thank you for stopping by our little store anyway!”

Elias found himself smiling softly as she scribbled down the order on the side of the cup, her good mood infectious, something which he was sure was one of the main reasons she was at the register this early in the morning. The girl passed the cup over to her colleague to start making the order, before ringing up his total.

“That’ll be $4,” she said, that pretty smile still in place.

He handed over a $10 bill. “Keep the change.”

It was the least he could do, right? To say thanks for putting him in such a good mood? Especially since it wasn’t always such an easy feat.

“Awesome, thank you! Your coffee will be ready soon, and you can pick it up just down the end there.”

He just nodded, earning another beaming smile back, leaving him a little stunned in the best way as he shuffled down the counter to wait. He watched as she immediately put the change in the large tip jar on the counter, humming happily to herself even as she whipped out a cloth and wiped over the surface on her side that didn’t need wiping. Endlessly optimistic, a positive energy he’d only seen from Brock on his good days, and he wondered how much of it was real. Even just thinking that, he knew he was at least a little wrong for doubting her positivity, because as far as she knew no-one was watching her, and there she was carrying it out – so it wasn’t for show. Who was this girl? What was her deal? What was it about her that made her occupy his thoughts like this?

“Large cappuccino for Elias?”

He tore his gaze away from the girl behind the counter, hoping there wasn’t a tell-tale blush on his pale cheeks, and stepped up to retrieve his coffee. But what he saw written on the side stopped him in his tracks. Other than his name and his coffee order, there was an extra message…just for him?

image description: handwritten note, have a wonderful day! with a drawn cartoon sun.

“Just so you know, Jojo really is that cheerful 100% of the time. It’s genuine.”

A deep voice startled him out of his thoughts, making Elias glance back up at the counter to see the male barista who’d made his drink looking at him in amusement.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Elias murmured.

The barista just laughed, nodding his acknowledgement, before leaving Elias to glance down at the cup one last time. Jojo. A beautiful name to match a beautiful smile and beautiful face. Okay now he was just being ridiculous. What was it about this girl that had him so intrigued? Whatever it was, he couldn’t get caught up in it right now – he really did have to get going. But maybe he could come back? That wouldn’t be too weird, right? It wouldn’t do anyone any harm if he came back to see her again, right?

As Elias walked out of the shop, he caught eyes with the pretty girl – Jojo – behind the counter again, finding himself smiling slightly as she waved goodbye, and it was all he could do to raise his coffee cup in salute as he walked out the door. Maybe a little bit of positivity like that would be good for him, every now and again.

And damn, the coffee was good too.

Joanna watched the coffee shop door close with a small smile on her face, replaying that adorable dorky little salute over in her head. That wasn’t the interaction she’d been expecting this dreary Monday morning, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

“Of all the people you could’ve served this morning, it had to be Elias Pettersson,” Carl mused.

She glanced up at her colleague, raising an eyebrow at the grin on his face.

“What’s so bad about that?” Joanna frowned, “You were the one who actually made his coffee?”

“He’s famous? And cute as hell? And you just acted as if he was anyone else?” he laughed.

Oh, she knew who he was. She wasn’t blind – and this was Vancouver. But why wouldn’t she treat him like anyone else?

“He wasn’t here for a team thing. He wasn’t even wearing any merch. He was literally being just a normal person coming in for coffee,” she shrugged, “I wasn’t going to make him feel awkward about that.”

“Only you, Jojo. Only you,” Carl teased.

Joanna rolled her eyes, smiling fondly, and just shook her head. While she watched hockey like any other Canadian, she wasn’t a superfan – Carl on the other hand absolutely was – and even then, she wasn’t going to treat poor Elias like an alien just for the crime of existing in the coffee shop she worked in. Aside from the fact she was only working part-time around her college classes, Joanna actually quite liked working at the shop; she’d been there since she was 16 so she had the routine down well, she adored her ridiculous co-workers, and she loved the opportunity to brighten someone’s day just by smiling and greeting them. Maybe it wasn’t much to some people, but it was more than enough for her.

And if Elias Pettersson became one of those people whose day she brightened? Well, then she wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

“Howdy partner!”

Elias found himself back at the coffee shop two weeks later, now in the first week of October, unable to come in before this Monday morning with training and the roadtrip schedule. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the barista, her copper hair and beautiful smile, even to the point where Nils and Brock teased him about his abnormal spacing out, but he’d refused to admit what – or who – occupied his thoughts. No, this was something he wanted to keep for himself, while he was still processing his thoughts about it all. About her. Was he stupid or creepy or weird for not being able to get someone he’d only met once out of his mind? He hoped not. Even so, when he realised he had the Monday morning free, he’d made up his mind to go back to the coffee shop ahead of training later in the morning, not needing the excuse of running. If nothing else, the coffee was damn good. That was how he justified it to himself anyway, rather than letting himself feel like a weirdo for hoping for the chance to see her again.

But there she was, bright smile and cheerful greeting.

“Howdy?” he mused.

“Eh, I’m trying something new this week,” she shrugged, unphased.

There was just something about her optimism that lifted his mood.

“You can’t win them all,” he said simply.

She gasped dramatically, hand clasped over her heart, earning laughter from her colleagues and a small smile from him. Adorable.

“You are a tough guy to win over – I’ll remember that,” she grinned, “Large cappuccino, right? Elias?”

Heat flared on his cheeks at her teasing – he loved that about her, that she made him feel so comfortable – and she remembered his order? After only one time?

“Yeah, that sounds great, thanks,” he nodded.

She hummed to herself as she scribbled the order onto the cup, passing it along to the girl standing next to her before she looked back at him.

“That’ll be $4,” she said, smiling.

He passed over $10, same as the previous time. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks! That’s so kind of you,” she said cheerfully.

Elias didn’t think it was anything particularly kind that he’d done, but he wasn’t going to complain if it got her to smile at him like that. He moved along the counter to wait for his drink, same as last time, and in no time at all the girl behind the coffee machine called out his name. Just as he’d hoped, there was a message written in the pretty cursive handwriting from before.

Image description: handwritten note, in case no-one said it today – you’re great!

Elias let out a soft laugh, a small smile spreading across his lips at the little message. Yet again, the barista’s positivity was infectious. What did the male barista last time say her name was? Jojo? No, it felt weird ‘knowing’ her name when she had never told him it herself. The normal thing to do was to ask her himself, right?

Thankfully there was no other customers at the counter, and she was still standing there by herself, so Elias walked back down to see her, a knot in his stomach that he was trying to ignore.

“Thanks for the message,” he mused.

“Ah, just a little something to make your Monday morning a little brighter,” she shrugged, although a pleased flush dusted her cheeks.

So cute. So ridiculously cute.

“I bet everyone appreciates it,” he added.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment before smiling wryly.

“I don’t write them for everyone,” she admitted, blushing a little harder.

She didn’t? So he was an exception here? Well, that was good to know. Very good.

“In that case, I should probably ask the name of the girl who makes me smile on a Monday morning,” Elias said smoothly.

She laughed, but in a way that he knew wasn’t at him.

“Joanna. Most people call me Jojo,” she said sweetly, smiling up at him.

Joanna. Even more beautiful. While the confidence was still with him, he smiled properly at her, earning a wide smile back.

“Nice to meet you, Joanna.”

“Nice to meet you too, Elias.”

The sound of the coffee shop door opening broke him out of the little bubble they were in, and he cleared his throat, taking a step back to find a sense of normality again. What was it about this girl?

“Thanks for the coffee. See you soon?” he asked hopefully.

Idiot. Of course he’d see her if he came in here while she was working. Idiot.

“Yeah, see you,” she nodded, still smiling.

Well at least she wasn’t laughing at him going from smooth to foolish. That was something at least.

She felt like she was on cloud nine. Joanna could only smile to herself as she wiped over the counter after Elias left the shop – he’d actually come in again! And he’d talked to her, even asked her name! It was stupid feeling so giddy after such a short conversation, but damn it he was cute, okay?

“So that was interesting.”

Joanna turned her head to look at her colleague, smile still on her face even as the customers she’d just served moved to a table to sit down. Carl, her usual Monday morning co-worker had swapped his shift with Jessie, the barista who usually worked Tuesday through Friday, so Joanna still knew her well – even if it through her usual routine off, it was still nice to see a friendly face this early in the day.

“What was?” Joanna asked.

“I haven’t seen the two of you interact before, but Carl was right – he’s definitely interested,” Jessie mused.

Of course Carl was gossiping. “He’s not interested. Why would someone like him ever look at me twice? I’m nobody.”

Oops. That came out a little more self-deprecating than she’d intended it too. Not that she was wrong, but still.

Jessie pursed her lips, shaking her head. “Baby, no-one holds a conversation that smoothly if they don’t think you’re cute. And you are not nobody – you are Jojo, queen of the cash register and future empress of sociology. He’s lucky to get those cute little messages from you on his cup, let alone the time of day.”

Joanna blushed, shaking her head.

“You know who he is,” she said, voice soft, “Next to him, I’m literally nothing.”

“And yet he smiled because you treated him like a normal guy. Own that. If nothing else, it’s a bit of flirting to liven up your Monday,” Jessie shrugged.

She was right. Jessie was so right. Joanna had never been someone who viewed the world so negatively, and she wasn’t going to start that now.

“Yeah, that’s true. I can own that,” Joanna said firmly.

“Damn right you can,” Jessie laughed. “Now, where did Carl put the oat milk?”

Halloween was both the joy of her year and the bane of her life. Joanna loved the fact that she got to dress up and have some fun with her friends watching spooky movies – in fact, she and a few of her college friends had a standing tradition for after her shift – but it also meant that she had to dress up at work.

So there she was, waving in Carl as he arrived to start his shift at 7am, both of them dressed in full pirate regalia. That was the theme this year; all the people who worked on Halloween decided on co-ordinating outfits, as a fun way to pass the time. Last year they’d decided on superheroes (and Joanna had made a killer Black Widow, if she said so herself), with the previous years including greeks and romans, cheesy 90s romcoms, and even Ghostbusters. It was the only thing that made the working on the day of Halloween worthwhile – even if it took her a little while to get used to all the stares that people sent her.

But she powered on, trying to ignore the fact that she was dressed a little ridiculously. It was Halloween, after all, and she knew for a fact that a good proportion of their customers would probably be wearing costumes at all, so at least that was something to look forward to.

Speaking of things to look forward to…Elias. He’d been in one other Monday this month since he’d asked her name – why Mondays, she still had no idea – but seeing him for a third time this month? Amazing.

“Ahoy matey!”

Oh wow, that one was bad, even for her. But Elias just laughed, immediately smiling at her, and all of a sudden it didn’t matter that she was wearing a tri-corner hat and a billowing white shirt. Funny how that worked.

“Ahoy to you too. You guys are really into Halloween huh?” he said, glancing around at all the decorations they’d put up this morning.

“Oh you have no idea. This is pretty tame for us – and at least the theme could be worse?” she mused.

Elias laughed again, nodding his agreement, leaning on the counter with his elbows as he smiled at her. “Yeah we’ve had some pretty bad group costumes. One year was the Shrek characters. Another year was Minions.”

Damn, yeah okay, she had definitely gotten off lightly with pirates then. Although knowing Elias, he probably pulled off whatever costume he’d worn. Cute as hell – Carl had been right saying that the first time he’d come in.

“Alright, you win,” she giggled.

“It got us a few laughs and a lot of smiles, so it was worth it,” he shrugged, although his cheeks flushed with a light pleased pink.

How sweet.

“Are you having your usual?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“Yeah, go for it,” he nodded, smiling back at her.

Joanna swung her copper braid over her shoulder – still not used to having it out of its usual high ponytail – humming to herself as she scribbled down today’s message. Hopefully this would put a smile on his face too. While Carl made the large cappuccino, Elias stayed up by the cash register, the two of them making small talk about past Halloween experiences, Joanna fully taking advantage of the lack of early customers to take these little extra moments with him. It was things like this that got her through the day, a smile like his on such a pretty face, and the fact that he was willingly talking with her rather than moving along? Well that made all the difference.

“Here you go.”

Carl’s amused voice broke them out of their conversation, Elias taking the cup from her colleague with a dry laugh.

Image description: handwritten note, smiling at strangers never goes out of style.

Elias looked over at her with a little grin, making her let out a breathy laugh even as she allowed herself to indulge into melting into a puddle at the warmth of his gaze.

“You are incredibly sweet, you know that right?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really,” Joanna said, feeling her cheeks heat up in a blush regardless.

“I don’t think you realise how much of an impact you have on people,” Elias shrugged, leaning casually against the counter as he smiled at her.

What a smile it was.

“And yet she’s single as hell, such a shame.”

Joanna flinched at the sound of Carl’s passing remark, cheeks flaring now as she glared at his retreating back, wishing the ground would just swallow her up. It was bad enough that she was dressed as a pirate, but he had to tell Elias of all people that she was single? Why?!

“Their loss.”

“What?” she said, looking back at Elias.

But he just shrugged, still smiling that sweet small smile at her. “All those guys who don’t realise how amazing you are. It’s their loss,” he said simply.

Oh wow.

“Working here as well as taking full-time classes takes up all my time, if I’m being honest,” she said, trying to regain at least a little of her dignity.

“Makes sense,” he mused, “what are you studying?”

She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out why he was interested in that kind of mundane information, but his intense gaze didn’t change at all. He really was asking her about herself…to get to know her better? Well, she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

“I’m studying sociology at UBC. There are so many different aspects to it, like gender equality to law to race and discrimination, and I just love it,” she admitted, smiling shyly now.

It wasn’t often that people asked her the finer details about her life, especially not people like Elias, so the fact that he was still smiling at her after her explanation? Well, that felt good. It felt really good.

“Sounds like you get to do a little bit of everything that actually matters in the world – I can see why you love it,” he said warmly.

And there go the butterflies in her stomach, swirling a merry dance.

“Exactly that! Gives me a chance to narrow down what I want to do with my life, and now that I’m in my final year, I’m excited to see how it goes,” she grinned.

In truth, she was leaning towards going into counselling, having loved the aspects of those modules in particular, and she did have an internship already in place for this summer as she was graduating…so she could only hope that her grades continued to take her on the path she wanted to journey on. It was a little scary, if she was being honest, knowing that all too soon she was going to be released out into the world with no safety barriers around her – but that’s also what made it so exciting. She was going to get to explore a brand-new adventure that she genuinely enjoyed, so what could be better than that?

And if that fantasy included Elias by her side while she took that next step? Well, that was between her and her daydreams, wasn’t it?

“I’d better get going, as much as I’d rather stay here talking to you. You’re much more interesting than most the people I know,” Elias said dryly.

His faux-reluctance made her laugh – like she could compare to his teammates, really – earning a little pleased smile, and she waved him goodbye as he exited the shop. Maybe one day she’d find the courage to flirt with a little more intention with Elias, take that chance on a guy like him – could it be worth it?

Joanna’s words, her simple sweet words on his cup, paired with that brilliant grin she sent him as she was talking about her degree, played on his mind the whole drive to the arena, and he found himself unable to stop the smile on his lips even as the team pulled a stupid Halloween mascot jump scare prank for their social media channels. At least he didn’t shriek, just flinched, but even then he could tell the people running it were surprised at his smile as he walked away.

Nothing was going to change his good mood today. Not even a dumb prank. He’d held a full proper conversation with Joanna, finally, and he was finding out more and more about her each time he saw her. He loved it, loved that he was getting to know her so organically, and the fact that she was still taking the time to write those little messages for him? It was everything to him. And now he even knew that she was single too. Even if it was all one-sided infatuation on his end, and she was just being friendly, having these little moments with her made him feel like nothing ever had before. So yeah, he was smiling – he couldn’t help himself, and he didn’t care.

“Okay is this another prank?”

Elias broke out of his thoughts to see Nils and Brock standing in front of him, making him crane his neck up to look at them where he was sitting in his stall in the locker room. Even Thatcher and Quinn were watching him curiously from their own stalls, sending a stab of panic through him that he quickly tried to repress. They knew nothing. And they would continue to know nothing.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elias said dryly.

“I mean, that’s more like the Petey we know and love…but smiling to yourself like that? What’s gotten you so happy this morning?” Brock teased.

“Hearing you shriek like a little kid at the jump scare?” Elias said, raising an eyebrow.

Brock’s cheeks flushed as the few guys in the locker room laughed, but he was undeterred, like Coolie with a bone. Damn it.

“I bet it’s the same reason he’s been spacey for weeks,” Nils smirked.

“You’ve been spacey? Are you okay?” Quinn asked worriedly.

Oh no. Not the Quinn Hughes puppy dog eyes. Those things were lethal.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I just…”

He trailed off, knowing that if he admitted that he’d met Joanna that he would never hear the end of the teasing.

“Oh man, Petey met someone,” Nils grinned.

Damn it.

And when he didn’t immediately correct his countryman, the 4 men around him all grinned, making Elias groan. Perfect, just what he needed.

“Who is she?” Brock asked, eyes wide with excitement

“Or he. No judgement,” Thatcher added.

That man was a blessing. Not an accurate blessing, in this case, but a blessing all the same.

So Elias sighed. “She. I’ve been going to a new coffee shop and she works there.”

Cue the immature coos and fluttering eyelashes. His teammates truly were the worst.

“So Petey has met a cute barista and is getting his flirt on. Cute!” Nils teased.

“No, no flirting,” he said quickly.

At least, only that little bit of smooth-talking today? That didn’t count, right?

“No flirting? Come on, a pretty boy like you isn’t going to flirt with a cute barista?” Brock laughed.

His laughed stuttered as Elias kicked him in the shin, but that just earned snickers from his other teammates.

“She doesn’t flirt, she’s just being nice,” Elias muttered.

Their laughter abruptly cut off, only making him groan again.

“Oh buddy that can’t be true,” Thatcher frowned.

“You wouldn’t be smiling like that if there wasn’t something there,” Quinn agreed.

If only he could wrap Quinn Hughes in a blanket and protect him from the world.

“He’s right – we all know your smiles, and that was a rare one,” Brock said, as serious as he ever got.

Was that an insult? He wasn’t sure at this point.

“It’s nothing. There’s nothing to talk about,” Elias said shortly.

Thatcher pursed his lips, Quinn smiling sadly at him – only making Elias cringe internally – but Brock and Nils just frowned.

“If you want to talk about it, you know where we are,” Nils said firmly.

Yeah, right.

“But don’t give up just yet, bud. If your time with her is making you smile like this, then I would bet that it’s making her smile too,” Brock added.

He walked over to his own stall after clapping Elias on the shoulder, Nils going to his own too, leaving Elias to his thoughts. Could Brock be right? Joanna was such a bubbly smiley person as it was…but was there a chance he made her smile all by himself? Was there hope after all?

The weeks kept passing, and every Monday he was able to, Elias went into Déjà-Brew. He didn’t know why he made it a habit of going only on Mondays, especially when he had other days free when he could go to, but even though he spoke to Joanna a little more each time he visited the coffee shop, he still hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask her what other days she worked. All he knew was that Monday mornings were definitely her opening shift, and that Monday mornings in the shop were the quietest days, so if he could guarantee getting at least a little of her attention on his on that day then he was going to stick with it.

It made sense in his head at least anyway.

Elias managed two visits in the first few weeks of November, more than any other month so far (at least that he’d had the courage to do), and he found his thoughts growing more and more consumed with the little snippets of information he’d managed to gain about her. Joanna was 21 years old, studying sociology at the University of British Columbia, had two younger brothers she adored, had lived in Vancouver her whole life, and her favourite colour was forest green. And those were just the immediate details. There were dozens of little facts about her he was collecting like a dragon with its hoard, and he savoured them all. He knew that he wasn’t sharing as much as she was, but he still found himself talking about his family and how much he missed home in Ange, and she seemed to grow in confidence in asking him about himself too. It was everything, everything he didn’t know he needed, and Elias found himself coveting those few minutes with her when he was able to get them.

And there was the fact that maybe Brock and Nils were right after all – while Joanna was always already smiling when he arrived to the coffee shop, her smile seemed to kick up a few notches the moment she saw him, which was something that made his own traitorous heart beat that little bit faster. He knew he needed to find the courage to do more than just talk to her in passing, needed to take that next step, but there was that niggling voice at the back of his head that told him not to ruin this easy friendship they already had. Was it worth risking everything if she was just being friendly? Was it worth spending so much time caught up in his head when hockey should be his 100% focus? Was he just being ridiculous and delusional in the first place?

How was he supposed to tell? And what was he supposed to do about it?

No, he needed to stop being so stupid about this. They were just talking – there was nothing bad about that. Those little moments on Monday mornings were something he treasured, and considering that Joanna seemed just as happy to see him as he was to see her, he wasn’t going to ruin that for him. For either of them. He just needed to keep his head cool, not get over the top or overwhelmed with it, that was all. He could do that at least, right?

The Monday after Thanksgiving weekend was always a little quiet, in Joanna’s experience, and this year it was no different. She’d only served a couple of customers since opening an hour ago, and already she knew that today was going to be a long day. She could feel it, in her bones, and she found herself hoping for something to liven up the day. At least Carl would be joining her any moment, no doubt full of hilarious family drama stories, so she could handle the last 15 minutes on her own before he arrived. Hopefully.

Within minutes, the door opened, and she desperately tried to ignore the way her heart started beating that little bit faster. Elias.

“Sup, homeslice?”

When Elias just mumbled as hello in response, Joanna winced. Maybe not her finest greeting.

“That one wasn’t a winner, huh?”

It was only then that Elias seemed to process her words.

“Oh no, it’s really not you. I had a rough day yesterday,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah yeah, overtime loss. Must’ve felt pretty rough,” she grimaced.

A few of the staff from the coffee shop went over to Jessie’s last night to watch the game, Joanna included, and they’d all watched the frustrating game on the edge of their seats. It had been a tough game to watch, if she was being honest, so she could only imagine how he felt.

“You watch hockey?”

The confusion in his voice confused her.

“It’s Vancouver? Hockey is a must?” she mused.

“You know who I am?” Elias said softly.

Ah, okay, now she got it. Did he really think she didn’t know?

“Was I not supposed to?” Joanna teased.

His pale cheeks flushed, making her smile softly.

“No I, uh, I didn’t mean to be arrogant. You just…never said anything,” he winced.

Bless his heart.

“Well I figured you were coming in here as just Elias, not Elias Pettersson number 40 for the Vancouver Canucks. So I didn’t think you’d want to be fawned over, when you were just being you. Was I wrong?” Joanna asked.

She didn’t think she’d been reading him wrong all this time. But had she? He’d seemed so normal…

“No, you’re not wrong at all. No-one’s ever-”

His words were cut off by the door opening and two women walking in, new customers that ended their privacy, Carl appearing behind them as well. It had been quiet all morning and now people had to come in?! No-one’s ever…what? Treated him like a normal human being? No, this wasn’t the time for it, whatever he was about to say. Time to get back to reality.

“Are you having your normal cappuccino?” Joanna asked, smiling softly.

“Yeah, thanks,” Elias nodded.

Joanna chewed her bottom lip as she scribbled on the order, hesitating before writing today’s message. Hopefully she wasn’t coming across as too forward. Hopefully she wasn’t being too much. She stayed silent as she quickly made his cappuccino, Carl still signing in for the day, as Elias moved along the counter, but she kept glancing over at him, watching his exhausted figure as closely as she could. When she finally put the lid on the coffee cup and passed it over, she didn’t move away from her spot, waiting for Elias to pick up his coffee order with bated breath.

Image description: handwritten note, stop to take a minute and breathe, with a drawn heart.

His cheeks flushed a light pink again, and he immediately looked over to her, smiling softly in a way that made her heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Joanna,” he murmured.

“Any time, Elias,” she murmured in response.

She ignored Carl standing next to her as she watched Elias walk out of the shop a little hopelessly, butterflies making havoc in her stomach.

“Oh Jojo, you’ve got it bad,” Carl teased.

“You have no idea,” she sighed, moving back to the register.

Elias slumped down onto Brock’s sofa as soon as he arrived at his house, ignoring Nils staring at him from across the room as Milo immediately curled up next to him, head resting on his thigh as Coolie curled up by his feet. If the dogs could tell something was wrong with him, then there was no doubt that Nils and Brock would too. Not ideal. But then again, why had he come over to Brock’s if he didn’t want a little comfort?

“Well don’t you look a picture of positivity?” Brock mused, passing him a cold beer.

Elias took it without a word but didn’t take a sip, just picking at the label instead.

“Oh it’s even worse than I thought,” Nils murmured.

Elias wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear that or not, but either way he didn’t respond.

“Okay buddy, out with it. What’s happened? It can’t be the overtime loss yesterday, right? Like, I know it was rough, but it wasn’t that rough?” Brock prompted, sitting down next to him.

Neither dog moved, making Elias smile minutely, but he just shook his head. “No, it wasn’t the game.”

Nils hummed sitting down in the armchair on his other side, leaning forward on his elbows to look at Elias critically for a few moments.

“It’s the coffee shop girl, isn’t it?” he eventually said.

There was no teasing in his tone, no jokes to be made that would’ve riled Elias up, but he still sighed, finally taking a sip of the beer that Brock had given him.

“Oh Petey, she didn’t turn you down, did she?” Brock winced.

Hah, that would require Elias to actually ask her out.

“I didn’t ask her out. It’s just…she’s so sweet. And kind. And smiley and positive and happy, and I don’t think she’s interested in me at all,” Elias mumbled.

There it was, all out in the open, vulnerable for his two closest teammates to see. It made him a little nervous to expose himself like that, if he was being honest, but it was done now. He couldn’t take it back. All he could do was avoid their eyes and focus on giving Milo the attention he deserved.

“Why do you think she’s not interested?”

“Her colleague said that she’s super positive and friendly 100% of the time. That was one of the first things I learned about her, so I don’t know if it’s just me reading into things wrong,” Elias explained sadly.

At this point, Elias didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. His head was swirling with all the interactions they’d had, and he hated that he couldn’t trust his gut instinct, couldn’t believe all the wonderful conversations they’d had. What was wrong with him?

“What aren’t you telling us?” Brock said softly.

“What?” he said, frowning.

“What’s caught your eye about this girl that you haven’t mentioned before?” Brock said, “There’s something, I can tell.”

Elias chewed his bottom lip absent-mindedly, before deciding to just tell them everything. What could it really hurt, at this point.

“Joanna writes messages on my coffee cups. Like, sweet little phrases, just to make me smile. And she told me herself that she doesn’t write them for just anyone. And we’ve been talking, more and more each time I’ve gone in there – she’s so smart, and sweet, and kind, and she’s just so interesting. But I don’t know if I’m just creating this fantasy in my head because she’s kind of perfect to me.”

He lifted his eyes to see Brock mouthing the word ‘perfect’ to himself, eyes wide like he was a little stunned. He didn’t bother looking over to Nils, dreading his reaction to his outburst. It wasn’t like he talked about his feelings like this on a normal basis, and to be honest, he was kind of regretting talking about it at all.

“Maybe she’s just hard to read? Like, you’re really difficult to read and your face is full of the exact emotions you’re feeling all the time,” Nils suggested.

Was that an insult? He wasn’t sure at this point. It wasn’t like he could hide his resting bitch face, but he didn’t think he’d been doing that around Joanna.

“I don’t think she’s hard to read,” he sighed, “But maybe I just suck at reading how people truly feel. Vancouver is different to Ange. People act differently here.”

Wasn’t that the truth.

“Petey, have you even actively flirted?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You are a bit of a grumpy cat,” Nils agreed, “Maybe you think you’ve been flirting but she doesn’t know you’ve been flirting.”

He cursed the day that Nils discovered North American memes.

“Bud, you’ve got to make a move,” Brock said firmly, bringing Elias’s attention back to him.

“Oh my god it’s her place of work. I’m not going to be a creep,” Elias shot back.

But Brock just rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Not like, grab her and kiss her because, ew, consent. I meant like, making a statement. Doing something bold.”

Elias pursed his lips in a frown, mulling over Brock’s words as he took a sip of beer to buy himself some time to think. Doing something bold? Like what? He wasn’t exactly a bold move person – he was chill, cool, casual, no pressure. Something like that was the opposite of his usual persona…but maybe Joanna was worth pushing the boat out? Especially after such a sweet message this morning?

“What could I even do?”

The grins that spread over Nils’ and Brock’s faces sent an unsettled pang through his body, but he ignored his flight response just this one time.

“Okay, so I have some ideas…”

Halfway through December – well, the 11th – and it was officially two weeks too long since Joanna had taken a chance on being vulnerable with Elias, since he found out that she’d known who he was the whole time. The more time that passed, the more she regretted every moment of that encounter, especially the little heart she’d put on the cup. It was beyond unprofessional, even as friendly as the two of them had gotten, and she hated the thought of him avoiding coming into the shop just because she’d been dumb for a few minutes.

Was she thinking too much into it? It wasn’t like he’d done anything other than lightly flirting with her – he could’ve just been passing the time of day, not slipping into dangerous feelings territory like she was. And even just thinking like that made her cringe, made her feel like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. All she ever wanted to do was make people smile, and the thought of Elias potentially feeling too awkward around her now? No, she couldn’t face that.

All she could hope was that he would eventually come back into Déjà-Brew, to give her a chance to get them, and herself, back to a bit of normality. Was that too much to ask?

Thankfully, while she was still working out the front of the shop by herself just before 7am, Elias walked through the front door, hesitant smile on his face. Okay, play it cool. She could play it cool, just be friendly, be her usual positive cheerful self. It wasn’t that hard.

“What’s up buttercup?”

Aggressively normal. Ouch. By the slight crease in his brow, even Elias could tell that her positivity was a bit forced this Monday morning, and Joanna internally grimaced for even feeling like she had to overcompensate for how vulnerable she got last time he came in. But what else could she do?

“Are you having your usual cappuccino?” she asked, smiling a little less intensely.

She wasn’t sure why she had to ask that. He always said yes, always said the same thing. But it just felt like part of the routine they had, and she didn’t want to change of that if she didn’t have to. She just wanted things to be normal.

“Yes. But, um, I have this now,” Elias murmured.

He seemed to hesitate slightly, before he pulled a reusable to-go cup out of his coat pocket. What was all of that about not changing routines? About being normal?

Joanna felt her heart break a little bit as she looked down at the to-go cup he’d placed on the counter in front of her, realising he didn’t want her handwritten note this time. That’s what this was about, right? Message received. She didn’t think that she’d crossed the line last time – he hadn’t seemed offended or awkward with it – but clearly she’d crossed a line. Message received. Silently, she picked up the travel mug, biting her bottom lip in humiliation…until she noticed there was already a note on a sticky label on the cup.

Image description: handwritten note, I like you a latte.

Her lips parted in surprise, not daring to glance up at the guy in question. He specifically wrote this…for her to see? He wrote a coffee pun, just for her?

“It was a close call between you mocha me smile and where have you bean all my life?”

His voice broke her out of her stunned thoughts, and she finally looked up at him to see him smiling shyly at her.

Oh.

Oh wow. That…that was unexpected. Wow. Butterflies dared to dance in her stomach, excitement soared through her blood, but she tried valiantly to push them down.

“You really put the effort in there, huh?” she said, smiling softly back at him.

“You’re worth the possible soul-destroying rejection,” Elias mused, shrugging.

Rejection?

“What?” she asked, confused.

Elias sighed softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, before he took a shaky breath. “I know that I’m hard to read, and maybe I’ve been watching too many CW shows with Brock, but I figured that if I don’t take a shot here then I’m an idiot.”

“Elias…” she breathed, trailing off.

He just smiled wryly at her, cheeks a little flushed but seemingly undeterred.

“You make my Monday mornings better. You make me better. And I really hope I’m not reading things wrong and being a pressurising creep in your place of work…but would you like to go out with me some time?”

Her lips parted in surprise, but that didn’t stop a wide smile spreading across her face.

“Oh my god. Wow. I, uh, absolutely,” she said, nodding, laughing a little incredulously, “I would definitely like to go out with you.”

Did she just say that? Did she really just say that?

The look of relief that spread across Elias’s face made her smile even more, and as he sent her a beaming smile back, her heartbeat started to race. No wonder he smiled like that so rarely – it was a danger to society, clearly.

“Really?” he asked, sounding like he didn’t quite believe his luck.

What a ridiculous notion.

“Really,” she nodded, her smile a little shyer now. “I never thought someone like you would ever been interested in regular old me.”

“Well regular old me, I’m Just Elias in here, remember?” he mused.

She laughed at his teasing smile, nodding at the use of her own words.

“Alright Just Elias, it’s a date,” Joanna said happily.

As he passed her his phone for her to input her phone number – and wasn’t that a concept she never imagined happening – she ignored Carl smugly collecting money from their colleagues, too consumed with the giddiness of Elias actually asking her out. He asked her out. She was going on a date with Elias Pettersson. No, Just Elias, just Elias the guy that made Mondays her favourite day of the week.

“There, now you have my number too,” Elias said, smiling sweetly at her.

Joanna smiled sweetly back at him as her phone buzzed in her pocket, just nodding.

“I look forward to seeing what you plan for our date,” Joanna said, taking a chance on flirting a little harder than usual.

The intensity in Elias’s gaze made butterflies tease at her stomach.

“I look forward to taking you on your last first date,” he said smoothly.

That concept, paired with his slight smirk, made her head spin and the butterflies riot. Now she really couldn’t wait for their date. “That’s a pretty bold statement, Elias,” she said softly, smile tugging at her lips.

“Being bold got me your number, didn’t it?” he mused, although his cheeks flushed slightly.

She couldn’t argue with that. Both of them stepping out of their comfort zones had gotten them where they were right now, and quite honestly, she was thankful for it. Never had she so openly flirted with anyone, and she could imagine he rarely took the chance that he had taken with her. So if being bold was the way to go? Well, she couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

#my writing #elias pettersson fic #happy birthday c!#elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x oc #elias pettersson fanfic #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #c’sbirthdaybingo

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dee-the-red-witch · 5 months

Note

Would you do me the kindness of reading this thing I wrote?

I walk out to the edge of the lake and stare at the burning horizon, a perfect autumn evening. I watch the Canada geese cut a V across the sky. He walks up behind me, laces his fingers with mine. Today is the last day I will see him for a very long time. He is going to college in another state. I am going to apprentice as a welder. We hold each other closely and appreciate the feeling of one another's palms, the way the joints and lumps don't quite line up comfortably but fit all the better for it. It is three years later. I've got some time off, and I call ahead to tell him I am coming to visit. He has a little time, too; classes haven't gotten too busy, and he's in the planning stages with the group he intends to collaborate with for his senior research. He is always ahead of the curve, where as I always feel like I'm playing catch-up. But today, I have caught him, and we stand at the edge of the duck pond. His hands feel the same; mine have grown hard and calloused, but he doesn't mind. We embrace, and we feed little bits of corn and lettuce to the birds. He says they get too much bread, that they get fat and that the uneaten bits rot in the water. I'm happy to hear him speak. There is no place more comfortable that we could share than the crunchy brown leaves that cover the grass. Another three years have passed. We were supposed to reunite after he earned his Bachelor's, but he got a research offer out on the coast he couldn't pass up. I understand; I got a good job in Detroit, fixing all manner of things for cheap and commuting to help with sculptural projects at all manner of art school in the area. A welder's work is always needed. Today, he's very busy, but we've made time anyway; he's in his last year of his Master's program, we hope — the research is promising, and he doesn't mind teaching so much. I ask if the next college he studies at will have an arts program; maybe I can go to school there, too, and stay closer to him. He hopes so too. We are at a little bar in the gay district of the city he works and researches in; it's nice, and we're the only couple our age; everyone is fresh as morning dew or seasoned and glad for space to be. I have a ring in my pocket; I've been meaning to give it to him for too long. I made it myself, with help from a few art students, who I can't stop talking about him to. It's autumn again; we only seem to meet in autumn. He sips his hot drink. I get ready to go on one knee. But I do not. He has beaten me to it. He takes a knee next to the table and pulls out his own ring, and he asks me to put it on my finger. I say I will, and I do, and it's a little tight, but he says we'll get it fit. My hands are calloused from the work; he still remembers them as they were six years ago, soft and delicate, laced between his own as we watched the geese flying south and the sun set behind the trees at the far side of the lake on the most perfect of autumn evenings there ever was.

I have to admit, I nearly cried the first time I read over this one before recording it. Anyways, again, it's beautiful- thanks for letting me do it.

#voice asks #asks answered

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sl-newsie · 4 months

Text

Teach Me To Love Hate You (Race x Fem Jet OC, enemies to lovers)

Here I am to request again! (*insert evil laugh*) So Race is doing so bad in school that he has to get a tutor. The problem is he gets stuck with this posh Jet girl and they absolutely hate each other. Tutoring is a mess. But one night when Race goes out to play cards against the Jets he’s playing against her, but she’s all dressed up! Turns out she’s a card shark, and wins by flirting with her opponent to get in their head. Her strategy works, and by the end of the night they're practically dating.

Davey’s POV

“Another F, Mr. Higgins.”

Our math teacher, Mr. Johnson, hands the man sitting in front of me his test. No surprise that Race failed considering he spends all his time goofing off. I’ll admit since I’ve met Jack and his gang I myself have relaxed a bit but not too much to have my perfect grades drop.

“Very impressive, Mr. Jacobs.”

I’m handed my own test, which I passed with flying colors. The bell rings and signals for us to head home.

“Go ahead, Davey,” Race groans. “Rub your perfect score in my face. I hate school!”

I gather my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I know book smarts aren’t your thing. Um, have you maybe considered being tutored?”

Race huffs and pulls out his cigar to stick in his mouth. “No way! I’ll keep my own perfect score of failing before I team up with one-a those bookworms-”

“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Higgins.” Mr Johnson approaches us. “Your failing grades have led the school to force me to assign you a tutor. You are to stay after school every weekday until 5. You will continue this until your grades improve.” The teacher gestures to the door. “Your tutor is waiting for you in room 215.”

I can’t believe it. Neither can Race.

“Are you serious? God, outta all things…”

The flustered student gets up and struts out of the room, causing me to rush after him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? It’s only-”

“Dave, of course it’s gonna be bad! I’ll barely miss the card tournaments at 6!” We reach the end of the hall where room 215 is. “I’m gonna be locked up with some ugly stiff trying to teach the unteachable-!”

“You must be Anthony Higgins,” a woman’s voice speaks as the classroom door opens.

Race rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!”

Amanda’s POV

This is what I get? This is what I get for keeping good grades? Being forced to tutor someone? Mrs. Smith informed me this morning that I’ve been assigned to tutor someone all because I’m one of the top students. I don’t even go to Manhattan High! I’m only here for the math class! Sadly West Side High doesn’t have any higher up math classes, so I have to commute to ‘Hattan.

I take a deep breath as I wait in the empty classroom. Just get through it one day at a time. The sooner you help him improve the sooner this headache will be over. The sound of approaching chatter alerts me to the door. Putting on a perky face, I walk over and open it. Outside I recognize Davey from math club, and the other must be the student I’m supposed to meet.

“You must be Anthony Higgins.”

The man in question rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!” His jaw drops and I swear he’s having a stroke.

Davey waves a hand in front of him. “Um, Race? You ok?”

The blonde boy nods slowly, still gaping at me. I feel my patience slipping. Ugh. I am not staying after school to be ogled!

I grip the man’s shirt and drag him inside. “Thanks for dropping him off, David. I’ve got my work cut out. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Amanda!” The kind Jacobs man waves and shuts the door.

Race is still quiet. I steer him to a chair and push him down to sit. “Listen up, Higgins. We both don’t wanna be here. So let me make this perfectly clear: pay attention and smarten up!”

Higgins shakes himself awake and gets a lopsided grin. “Well hello, doll. Y’know friends call me Race-”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your tutor.”

My firm tone turns Race’s grin to a scowl. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve met you. I’dve remembered your lovely attitude.”

I stiffly take out some worksheets and slap them on the desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Higgins. I’m from West Side High.”

He snickers. “Ah, one-a Lorton’s gals. That’s where the attitude comes from!”

I roll my eyes. “Riff’s just a good friend. That also means that you shouldn’t try anything, understand? Just do these worksheets and we can be done for today. My whole life doesn’t revolve around school, and unlike you I actually have plans that don’t involve goofing off.”

“Well,” Race says cockily. “Since neither of us wanna suffer through this, whaddya say you lets me go early?”

That little-! That’s it. No more playing nice. I stiffly walk over to the door and lock it. It’s against school policy but I don’t care at this point. This cheeky moron is not gonna pin me for some softie!

“Hey! Why’d you-?”

I steer Race back into his seat with a firm hold. “Worksheets. Now! Before I really give you something to stress over!”

He’s shaken but still tries to keep confident. “Like what? The heartthrob you’s give’n me?”

“Like a black eye, dumbass! Now get to work!”

Race’s POV

God must have a sense-a humor ‘cause that tutor session felt like it took fifty years! It don’t help that my tutor is a stuck-up goody-goody. Jeez, for a moment I thought she was cute. I didn’t even get her name.

“Ey, Racer. Ya with us?” Jack asks.

“Um- Yeah. Just think’n,” I mudda as we enter the Jets’ hideout.

“You? Thinking?” Albert laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day! What’s got you so worked up?”

“He has to be tutored now,” Davey explains from behind.

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks Davey! Why not announce my failure to the whole woild, why dontcha?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Race,” Crutchy tries to comfort me. “It took me a while to understand math too.”

“What I don’t get is how are ya so bad at math when ya count cards like a madman?” Spot grunts. “You’s bedda not get us kicked out.”

This week’s card tournament is be’n held in the West Side. I ain’t too noivous ‘cause Riff’s always too busy boast’n ‘bout his new construction job to play the game. That and Baby John’s poker face ain’t worth dirt. I can see through him like glass. So far the turn up looks pretty bland. Maybe folks is get’n tired-a losing? Where’s the competition?

“Evening gents,” Riff greets us as we gather ‘round the table. “We’s just wait’n on a few more players, then we’ll start.”

“Is Bernardo coming?” Davey asks.

The Jet leader smirks. “Wouldn't you wanna know, Mouth? Expecting Liliana to show?”

David blushes and looks away. Sure, he gets a pretty goil tonight. Of all people I expected Davey Jacobs to be the last guy to find a date.

“What about Mouthpiece?” I ask. “Can’t a guy see his own brodda?”

Riff shakes his head. “Bernardo called to say he can’t make it either. Only Baby John and Amanda are left to show.”

“Besides, one Higgins is enough to handle,” Jack groans. “We don’t need the matching pair.”

I’d hoid of Baby John before but the odda name ain’t familiar. With my luck it’ll be some ditzy dame who don’t know a spade from a shovel-

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

Amanda’s POV

“Are you kidding me?” I gape as I peer through the window.

“What’s wrong?” Baby John asks from behind.

“Race is here, that’s what! That ding-dong plays cards here?”

“Actually he ain’t no ding-dong,” Baby John points out. “Race is one-a the best players in New York.”

I snort. “If he’s so smart, why do I gotta be forced to teach him basic algebra?” Perhaps that’s a question no one can answer. “Don’t matter. He’ll bend either way.”

“Gonna lay on the shark charm?” John questions with an arched brow.

“Ya bet.” I don’t always play by the rules. My secret is that after school I play tournaments as a card shark by flirting with players. Some frown at it but I’m proud of my acting skills. Plus any little money I can make goes towards helping my parents.

Baby John goes ahead and sits next to Riff at the table while I stand behind Race.

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

The man’s head jerks up and he spins around to look at me with surprised eyes. It’s as if he can’t decide that I’m real. He looks between me and Riff with a stunned expression.

“Amanda, I see you know Race,” the Jet assumes.

My lips press into a firm line. “Yeah. Through tutoring. Now since we’s not at school can we actually have fun and play some cards?”

The oddas just shrug and begin to assemble the deck, while Race looks at me like he just won the lottery.

“Amanda, is it? Golly, I’ve never pinned you for a card gal!”

“There’s many things you’d be surprised by,” I say in a sultry voice. My suave charm automatically draws Race in and I see him starting to lose his senses.

“Th- That’s some getup you’ve got on, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

His compliment is refreshing. Usually guys just eat my appearance right up with no thought-a be’n nice. Tonight’s outfit is a polka dot cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple red heels. I may be a card shark but I still got my dignity.

“Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly, but then regain my attitude. “I was starting to think ya couldn’t use that mouth for anything odda than back-sassing. Ready to lose?”

Race stares for a second then turns back to start gathering his delt hand. I decide to sit next to him for a better shot of distracting him. If I can get the oh-so-great Racetrack Higgins to falter at cards then I’ll have really set a record. Tonight’s game is Hearts and fortunately my hand is halfway decent. Lotta high cards plus the queen-a spades. Just enough to turn the tables and give everyone 26 points.

“You’ve been taking a lotta hearts,” Race says after a while, then says in a lower tone: “Wanna bet that you’d steal mine as well?”

Ha! He’s trying to play a card shark at her own game! This is too funny.

I pull on my best flirting smile and bat my eyelashes. “You tell me, handsome.”

That did it. Race’s face goes beet red and he goes back to staring at his cards. A few more hands go by and I continue to keep the lead. Luckily the oddas are too consumed by conversation to notice, all except Race. But for good measure to keep him distracted I slide my leg over to brush against his. This gets him shaking and all but hot and bothered. It’s working, but then why does a part-a me feel guilty? It ain’t a question that Race is a jerk sometimes but he’s still kinda handsome- No. I have a job to do. There's no holding back.

“Last hand. Who’s got the queen?” Davey asks as we all turn in our final card.

My smirk outshines all their oblivious faces. “I do!”

Jack chuckles. “You lose, Amanda.”

“Actually…” I fan out all the hearts I’ve collected. “I win!”

Everyone takes a double-take and groans. Another victory!

“Alright, you know the rules,” Riff grunts. “Pay up.”

The guys grudgingly take out their contribution and toss it onto the table. Maybe now I can afford to buy mom some good kitchen knives.

“Good job, Amanda.” Leave it to Crutchy to be the pro at sportsmanship. “You’re almost better than Race!”

“He’s right,” Spot agrees. “Hear that, Higgins? Ya got competition!”

The man in question has a stern look on his face. Instead-a answering he abruptly gets up and sulks down the hall to the bathroom. Sore loser. Can’t he take one defeat without holding a grudge?

“We’s gonna head back,” Jack calls. “Send Race over once he’s done.”

The ‘Hattan fellas make their way out, leaving me with Spot ‘nd the Jets. Soon enough they too walk out and leave me alone to count up my winnings. After a few moments I hear footsteps and turn to see Race fuming with what looks like anger.

“You got spunk, sweetheart,” he remarks slyly. “Not many dames can get into my head the way you do.” All of a sudden he struts forward and leans me back to lay against the table. “Almost makes me wanna soak ya for that, but then that’d be wasting that pretty face-a yours.”

How is he so strong? Also why are his eyes suddenly quite catching-? Ugh! Get a grip, Amanda! Just take the money and go.

“You’re lucky Riff ain’t here right now,” I growl. “Oddawise you’d be talking through a mouth with no teeth for saying that.”

Race scoffs. “You batted your eyes at me, sweetheart. What’s your angle?”

“It’s part of the game! Jeez Higgins, you’re so used to card tournaments I thought you’d already know what a card shark is!”

“So instead of being one-a Bernardo’s sharks, you’re an actual shark?” Race dramatically clutches his chest. “That hurts. That hurts deep, sweetheart.”

I hiss in frustration. “Stop calling me that!”

“Why? ‘Cause every odda bum ya flirt with calls you that? Just how many guys have ya swindled to give you cash?”

In a fleeting moment of anger I slap Race across the face. “I ain’t your usual lady of the night, Higgins! For your information, every cent I earn through card games goes to my folks! Unlike you I use my skills to help people instead of boasting ‘bout it like a spoiled brat!”

Race blanks for a second but is still angry. “Boasting? I ain’t the one boasting, sweetheart. I’ll admit my skills is good but it’s Jack ‘nd the oddas that boast ‘bout it!”

“Then why do you suck at math?” I jab.

“Maybe it’s the same reason why a clean-cut goil like you is a card shark,” Race replies. “I gots bedda things to do.”

“That don’t mean ya should throw your education in the trash!” I argue.

“I ain’t as smart as you, sweetheart. I know when to admit I’m no good.”

Race suddenly gets a saddened look and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad. It ain’t his fault he’s not book smart but that don’t mean he’s useless.

“You still don’t get it, Higgins. Life’s more than just academics. But you still gotta put up with the tough stuff.” I loosen up a little and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to cooperate, I could still tutor ya.”

Race laughs. “Ha! That’s a good one, sweetheart. Going soft on me?”

That son of a-! “Alright, fine! Go and fail math for all I care!” I lean forward and shove him against the wall. “To think I actually felt sorry for you, you snarky, hot, cocky-!”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Race’s face lights up. “Lay that on me again?”

“I was an idiot to think you’re a decent human being-! Ah!”

The blue-eyed man tilts over and plants a kiss on my lips. In my shocked state I don’t know whether to pound him or kiss him back. The gesture melts away my anger in pure ecstasy. God, what’s this guy doing to me?!

“You think I’m hot, sweetheart?” Race gets a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I ain’t flattered. You’s a scrumptious catch too.”

My face twitches as I try to form a rebuttal. “I- I… I-!”

“Well, whaddya know! I got the card shark speechless!” Race softly places his own hand on my shoulder. “I say we’d make a great pair, hm? Before we kill each odda, whaddya say to a milkshake at Doc’s?”

He’s got me hook, line, and sinker. As a card shark I’m not supposed to fall for anyone I play- where did I go wrong? Race is a pain! Yet still kinda cute… Ugh! Why does luv gotta be so complicated?!

“I- I ain’t good with luv, Race,” I mutter. “The only hearts I’ve been dealt with are cards. I ain’t a normal date.”

No matter how hard I wanna look away, Race’s eyes still capture me in a helpless trance. I’ve been disassembled from a cunning card shark into a pathetic mess. All I can do is stare as the man runs a hand softly across my cheek and looks down at me with kind eyes; a completely opposite demeanor than 10 minutes ago.

“I don’t want a normal date, Amanda. A normal date picks at my habits and says I gots a gambling problem.” Race bumps his nose on mine. “You wouldn’t say that, wouldya?”

My breath hitches. “No, you- you’re amazing at cards. Anybody who says oddawise is a joker.”

Now Race’s face is mere inches from mine. “Still up for a date?”

A sassy grin spreads on my lips. “Think ya can handle me, Higgins? I am still your tutor, after all.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just lemme kiss you, ya mouthy tutor.”

And I do. Over and over and over, Race kisses up and down. All talk-a math and school drips away and I give in to this new-found feeling.

“Never thought I’d fall for a bookworm,” Race mumbles between kisses.

I lightly smack his shoulder. “Remember this ‘bookworm’ just schooled you in Hearts, Higgins. You lost, remember?”

Race chuckles. “Yeah. Lost my own heart to you too, sweetheart.”

Tonight really was a successful game after all.

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