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glade-constellation · 9 months

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Not Built For This

Sun x Reader

Summary : Sun is having a difficult time, finally cracking under the stress of his job after a run in with a rude parent. You’re there to comfort him.

Trigger Warning(s) : Mentions of abusive/neglectful parent and alcohol, accidental self harm, mention of decommissioning

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 2053

Extra : Just a little one-shot I wrote a while ago, sometime in January of this year. I apologize if it’s a little odd. I wrote it when I was having a bad time myself, but I really enjoy how it came out and wanted to share.

“Because I wasn’t built for this!”

Sun threw his hands into the air, bells on his wrist ringing out softly, before he fell to the floor in a ball. You knew he couldn’t cry. Fazbear was at least smart enough to not build their bots with working tear ducts and have them start sparking like a lit firework. But you swore, in that moment, Sun’s eyes glassed over with unshed tears. His shaking frame leaked of such pure anguish you wondered if he’d been built with a human soul. Even covered in stray marker lines and spots of sparkling glitter, he looked so violently drowned in his own emotional pain that you felt it yourself.

“I wasn’t built to do any of this! The ‘daycare attendant’ wasn’t even a role when the Plex was first built! Why do you think we had so many complaints over the years? Why I seem too overbearing or Moon sometimes acts far too frightening for the kids? That’s what we were built for. Performances. Short bursts of dramatic entertainment. Comedy and tragedy. We were theater performers.”

The hiccuping static coming from his voice box was too close to sounding like a cry. His frame creaked and groaned, sounding as if about to combust. Knowing how little maintenance the two of them received, the possibility was too high for your liking. “Sun, honey, I need you to listen-“

“The kids weren’t even supposed to be near us! We were supposed to be up on a stage, only interacting when engaging with the crowd.”

You took a step forward, hands rising as if to reach out to him, “Sun, please, you’re going to hurt-”

A soft crunching sound filled the air. “We’re had to learn all of this ourselves, no help from anyone. Playtime, time outs, kissing the boo-boos away, we’ve had to learn all of it by watching others. People who didn’t even like working here, didn’t like us.”

He didn’t even notice the now dented rays in his hands. “Sunny, please-”

“I try my hardest every day to be the best I can be and do the best I can do with what very limited resources I was given and no one seems to care about anything I do meaning Fazbear hates us and we’re so close to being decommissioned for something we can’t even help-”

“SUN!”

Besides the rattling of his frame, there was finally silence. You stood over his curled body, hands gently but firmly placed on the sides of his face. Even without visible pupils, you could see when his eyes finally focused with yours. With slow movements, you softly began to remove his hands from his now bent rays. “You’re hurting yourself.”

Slowly, hesitantly, he moves his hands with yours. He slides them towards you, reaching but not touching. An unasked request for comfort. As you reach to pull him forward, he grabs your hips and does the same. There’s a moment in the silence when he simply holds you to him. Then the dam finally breaks.

Sun buries his face into your stomach and sobs.

It’s not quiet or soft, full of shaky breaths and muffled whimpers. It’s not like the daycare kids who threw fits with sharp huffs and cries. Sun folds into you and he screams, static scratching through his voice box. It’s loud and aching and broken, so defeated that your own heart couldn’t help but break with him. He grips you like a lifeline as he cries, frame shivering and vibrating so roughly yours afraid he might actually begin to fall apart. A star in threat of collapsing in on itself.

You let him cry. You hold him as he screams and you try not to cry yourself. Your hand moves from his shoulder to one of his rays, gently tracing it in a way you knew calmed him down.

It’s a while before he finally calms down enough to speak coherent words, but what he says only breaks you farther. “I’m sorry,” drops from his mouth, so strained in static you almost can’t make it out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeats it over and over like a mantra. You open your mouth, going to shush him, but freeze as he continues. “Please please please, don’t decommission us, don’t throw us out. I can do this, I can do this, I’m not broken, just a small mishap. Won’t happen again, I can do it, I’m sorry.”

You’re having not of that.

Pull his face away from you, you drop down to your knees. Your gaze is firm as you stare into his eyes. “Sun, you listen to me and you listen to me good. This wasn’t your fault. None of this was. You said it yourself, you weren’t built for this. Nothing about what you do in the daycare is part of a program you or Moon own.”

You stop for a moment, just long enough to cup your hands against the sides of his face. He’s still crying, but he’s listening, and that’s what matters right now. “But you want to know something? That makes what you do in here so fucking brilliant. You care for these kids almost every day, playing with them and cleaning their messes and kissing their hurts away, and you do it so much better than any of the human assistants I’ve seen sulking in here before me. You may not have been built for this but you do it so beautifully that I wouldn’t have known any better unless you or Moon told me. The fact that you had to learn how to do all of this while locked away in here with no help but your own two eyes is frankly far more astounding than Fazbears’ ability to create your AIs. How you haven’t lost it up until now is a fucking wonder.” You shake your head, chuckling.

“But maybe that’s just a testament to you two’s innate ability to love with all your being. When you two commit to loving something, you give yourself away to it. I watch you with those kids all the time and you treat them like a parent would their own children. As a parent should love their children. You spend hours upon hours keeping this daycare in working order without any help, not because you’re programmed to but because you love doing it. That kind of emotion isn’t something you can just replicate. The level of humanity I see in you and Moon far surpasses most of actual humanity that exists on this Earth today.

“If some kid’s abusive bitch of a mother wants to come in and call you a worthless machine because her kid love you far more than her, you take any word that comes out of her mouth with a fucking grain of salt. That’s her problem to work through, not yours. She doesn’t see what you do here. She obviously doesn’t see what you do for her own kid every single day she’s off getting drunk.

“What matters is what those who actually care about you think. The kids love you. Both of you. They were freaking out the day you guys went to maintenance, some actually started crying. Made all those Get Well cards for you two, remember? I highly doubt Fazbear is going to decommission one of their most beloved animatronics from one drunk lady’s comment. They’d have hell to pay.” You bring him forward, just enough to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. “Hell that I would raise for you.”

Sun falls forwards slightly, head hitting your chest as he pulls you close again. He moves you to the side just slightly, throwing a leg under you so you’re no longer resting on your knees. You throw an arm over his shoulder as he begins to rock the both of you, your other hand coming up to the back of his faceplate to hold him. It's another moment before either of you speak.

You can hear Sun mumble something, but whatever was said is buried in the sound of his fans buzzing on overdrive. You hum in question as you trace patterns aimlessly on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he says again, “Moon says it too.” You feel more than see when his rays shrink slightly into his faceplate, “I’m sorry.”

You snort, “Hey, what did I just say? No more of that. It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.” He pulls back from you, eyes looking down instead of towards you. “That was really childish on my part. Parents complain all the time. That shouldn’t have affected me that much.”

You shush him, placing a hand over his mouth despite knowing that wasn’t going to do much. It still had the desired outcome of shutting him up. “Sun, did you listen to anything I just said?” He nodded, and you quickly continued before he started up again. “I didn’t explicitly say it, but everything I just explained can also be used to say that both you and Moon are extremely overworked.” You give a huff as you roll your eyes, “Give an AI sentience and then make them work until the break. Typical Fazbear right there.”

You feel the speaker behind Sun’s faceplate vibrate as he speaks up, “But we were built to work-”

There’s an audible smack as you facepalm. “Oh my god, I spill my guts out trying to calm you down and you listened to none of it,” you groan. You grab his chin to tilt his face towards yours, “Sunny, honey, it doesn’t matter that it was just one parent telling you something you’ve already heard and gotten over before. You may have been built to work tirelessly but you literally just said you weren’t built to handle this kind of work. Plus, I don’t think Fazbear takes into account that they build living beings. Straw on the camel’s back and all that. You and Moon have one too many things going on up in that pretty little head right now. It couldn’t handle the additional yelling and triggered all your pent up emotions. It’s normal. Happens to me too. Don’t apologize for simply being alive.”

You drop your hand as you finish, watching as Sun blinks at you. His rays flex in and out in no particular pattern, something you’ve realized means he’s having an internal conversation. He finally seems to come back into focus after a moment, simply staring before moving a hand to gently cup your cheek. You laugh slightly as his hand covers the right side of your head but lean into it. He looks like he wants to smile, but whatever he’s thinking is obviously weighing on him. “You. . .really see us as people.”

You can't quite tell if it was a statement or a question, but you nod all the same. A confused look crossed your face, “I mean, yeah? You may be made of metal and silicone, and held together by desperation and glitter glue since the mechanics can’t do their job for shit, but that doesn’t change the fact that you have just as much intelligence and emotion as any human. Probably more, not gonna lie. I’ve seen Moon hack into things he really shouldn’t more times than I would like to admit. You have this unbelievable talent to read a person’s body language from across the room and change the mood of the whole room to fit their needs.

“And like I mentioned earlier, you two don’t half ass anything. When you give, you do so with your whole being. Simple machines don’t have things like love and trust. You two are the definition of it.”

You could feel as Sun ran his thumb across your cheek as you spoke. As you looked back up at him, you were greeted with a soft look. Sun’s rays slowly pinwheeled around his head as he smiled at you. His hand moved from the side of your head to the back as he pulled you forward. Your breath caught suddenly, your heart beat suddenly too obvious inside you.

He seemed to second guess himself at the last second, or maybe you had simply read too much into that act. Hugging you close, Sun reciprocated your earlier forehead kiss. “Thank you,” he mumbled softly.

#Writing of the Glade #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #sundrop #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #moondrop #fnaf y/n #fnaf dca x y/n #fnaf dca x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf sun x reader

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artoriaskujo · 1 year

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its such a shit feature that being visibly highly insecure makes people uncomfortable, because if someone said to me "[your behavior that stems from said insecurity] makes me uncomfortable" while i was at the points in my life where i was the most insecure i would actually combust on the spot

#lozzie complain #not a vent #just pondering

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shotorozu · 3 years

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I have so many cute, fluffy requests but lemme drop this one! I’d love to request head cannons of Bakugo, Shinsou, Kirishima, and Mirio being dared to lay on their crush’s lap. Y/N is chilling on the couch on her phone, unaware of this. So these bois fulfill the dare and of course Y/N is surprised but she always liked them and doesn’t think she’ll have an opportunity like this again, so what does she do? Place her phone down and gently rubs their head with one hand and cheek with the other with a tender smile and even calling them cute.

laying on their crush’s lap

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, togata mirio

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, but a f! reader, quirk’s not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff

note(s) : i want to apologize for not uploading yesterday! i was quite hoarded with school work, but just so you know— i do see your requests :)) i also wrote this at 3am by the way so.. no proofread rn but i will later!

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

ugh— first of all

bakugou is not one for dares. he thinks dares are quite useless, and irrelevant

however, it was either him; bakugou katsuki, being labeled a chicken or

laying his head down on Y/N— his crush. it doesn’t seem so bad to be honest

but.. the problem is that no one excluding the bakusquad has an idea of his feelings towards you

little did he know, you also harbor feelings towards him.

his pride.. can’t be hurt from something like this. nah, that’d be embarrassing

so he decides to go through with the dare.

after dinner, and briefly before he goes to sleep—

he enters the ground floor, and walks past the common room, where the bakusquad was just chilling at

you’re sitting beside them, just chilling on your phone— while listening to their antics

the bakusquad’s just staring at him, with a knowing look adorning their expressions

bakugou blinks, and he can sigh irritatedly— as he walks towards the couch, standing in front of you

carmine eyes practically glaring at you, waiting for you to notice his intense stare locked on you

with the bakusquad staring in anticipation, waiting for something to happen

you eventually notice (i mean, how could you not?) and you can only tilt your head “what’s up with you??” you question him with a light hearted tone

he doesn’t say much, only sighing before immediately dropping down and settling his head on your lap

you immediately grow flustered, suddenly aware of how soft his ash blond hair is (despite it’s rather.. spiky appearance)

the bakusquad’s just like “HOLY SHIT- he actually did it!” and it’s suddenly.. a lot more chaotic.

the blond shifts his position momentarily, red eyes staring up at you as they scan your expression for any sign of rejection

taking in your sheepish expression, and the fact that you gave him nothing but a rather.. contagious smile, he takes that as a good sign

but he’s surprised when you set down your phone, and attaching one hand onto his head- petting luscious blond pieces of hair

he blinks- genuinely pleased by this action and the bakusquad goes beserk

“is that good enough for you, dumbasses?” he asks switching back to his usual self, and they don’t give him much of an answer- only sending him cheeky looks.

when it’s time to go back to your rooms, bakugou suddenly breaks the silence.

“based off your reaction, i could say you like me back.” bakugou says it in such a soft tone, which is very out of character

you can only nod, and before you guys part ways, bakugou grabs the courage to grab your face and kiss you love the pining

hitoshi shinsou

it was definitely kaminari that asked him to do this, i mean.. when was it not-

recently joining the hero course in his second year, finally after working hard for his spot in the class- he became classmates with you

the person he’s been crushing on for the last year or so.

again, hitoshi’s pretty chill when it comes to dares and class games, but he’s not someone that would indulge in them regularly.

but kaminari, being quite the social butterfly he is, waltzed over to the recent addition to their class

and asked him to lay his head on your lap. since he was having his suspicions of shinsou having a crush.

shinsou’s thinking like.. “damn, he definitely knows. i mean, he’s probably the only person that knows.”

thing is, he’s probably the least bold out of all of these characters.

like.. he kinda wants to do it because it’s you but he’s also considering your feelings

oh boy.. if only you knew.

and he doesn’t want to embarrass you either. so he's just having a heart time just finding the perfect moment.

scanning the hallway of any people, he pads right across it as he enters the common room

he’s surprised to see you chilling on the couch.

you squeak out a small noise startled by the sudden appearance of another person, but they immediately calm down realizing it’s shinsou

“didn’t expect to see you there,” you laugh, and he could only chuckle at your reaction, as he stand next to the couch

his stomach is practically swarming with butterflies, but he replies anyway “you’re not staying in your room?”

“i didn’t realize how late it was,” you smile, “what’re you doing down here?”

“just getting a glass of water,” shinsou replies simply, silently trying his best to calm down his racing heart, shifting to stand infront of you

it’s silent for a few seconds, and it feels like forever. but shinsou concludes that he might as well do it now.

there's no one here to question his actions anyway.

dropping down, he pushes his head onto your lap- which surprises you because you never expected hitoshi shinsou; your crush

to just.. suddenly settle his head on your lap.

you’re flustered, but you love how the peaceful look on his usually tired out face.

placing your hand on his head, fingers weaving through purple locks- you allow a moment to pass by

breaking the silence, you speak “how cute,”

shinsou raises an eyebrow at your comment, and stands right up- walking away from the cut short moment.

“where are you going?” you ask, since how could he just do that and walk away so casually??

“getting water, like i said.” the corner of his lips turn up slightly. “i’ll see you later. maybe we could do this more.”

you don’t reply- and shinsou could only laugh at the way you owlishly blink “now who’s the cute one now?” he pokes fun at your bewildered- yet cute expression, and it’s not long before he disappears into the hallway

the next day, kaminari experiences such a field day when he finds out he did it. he could tell by the sheepish look on your face.

kirishima eijirou

who’s the one that dared him? it was mina and kaminari

similar to bakugou, the bakusquad’s the only one that has a slight idea of your crush, and that includes bakugou

to his dismay

so they dared kirishima to do this because it might just give you guys a head start. and they also wanted to see kiri’s reaction.

at first, kirishima was pretty reluctant regarding this dare, because.. how tf is he gonna do this??

is it unmanly to just.. walk up to you and plop his head right down onto your lap?

what if he tarnished what y’all have? he wouldn’t say it’s a relationship yet, but your relationship’s at a pretty good place right now.

it was bakugou that convinced him to do the dare because “just do it, idiot. it might do you something good for once.”

he only said this because he wanted them to shut up ngl

so if his bestie- bakugou is telling him to a dare then.. it’s probably a sign to do it.

shaking off the nervousness, kirishima walks off to find you- because the sooner the better, right?

you’re just doing your own thing, as you chill with mina on the couch. seeing the red head- mina sends a quick expression that practically tells him to go for it

kirishima gulps, nervously- and he enters the area, you’re suddenly aware of his presence.

“oh, hi kiri!” you greet him casually, and he waves back at you, butterflies tickling his stomach.

no need to feel nervous eijirou, just.. do it.

breathing in, he immediately kneels down on the floor right infront of you

you’re startled when you suddenly feel weight on your lap, and you’re visibly flustered seeing your own crush resting his head on your lap

mina’s making train noises right now, but she’s trying hard to not make a huge deal out of it (but how could she not, really? she’s tired of seeing both of her friends pinning over each other.)

“sorry, Y/N” kirishima apologizes, yet he doesn't see the slightest hint of discomfort.

you laugh, smoothing your head over his head, his face practically rivals his dyed hair. “if you wanted to lay your head on my lap, you could’ve said so, cutie.”

wait.. so does that mean you like him too?

mina couldn’t contain herself, as seeing the heavens as y’all interact. rip

togata mirio

shy? that’s so funny.

is that a thing with mirio togata? this is the same man that fought class 1-A butt ass naked.

there’s no shame detected in his bloodstream. more like.. he just knows how to hide it well.

nejire dared him to lay his head on your lap, because she wanted the both of you to just “get together already!!”

and she also wanted to see your reaction.

tamaki’s just like “uh.. won’t Y/N spontaneously combust though?”

mirio legit has no shame, this guy is the sole definition of ‘where’s my hug at?’

would not care about the location because a dare is a dare. the next time he sees you sitting outside of school hours

he’s sitting on that lap. end of the discussion.

you’re sitting on the couch of the dorm’s common room, and you’re just waiting for a text from nejire and tamaki

(since you and mirio aren’t classmates with tamaki and nejire, you guys try to meet up with each other as much as y’all can.)

mirio walks into the common room, and he’s glad to see you just sitting there.

now would be a good time!

calling your name out cheerfully, he approaches you-”Y/N, hi!” he grins as he approaches you, nothing seems off.

“hi mirio- wait,” your greeting is cut off short when he sets his head on your lap, humming immediately as he savors the pleasant feeling.

“w-what’re you doing?”

“laying on your lap! it’s pretty comfortable here. have i told you that yet?”

you shake your head, experiencing a loss of words.

he can only grin, eyes shimmering with joy- absolutely loving the expression on your face.

“you’re too cute, mirio. if you asked me out right now, i wouldn't be too mad at the idea.”

blinking up at you, he asks “well? will you?”

“of course.”

nejire and tamaki’s watching the scene from outside, and tamaki had to restrain nejire from squealing too hard.

thanks nejire :))

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing.

do not steal my work :))

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tetsuwhore · 4 years

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𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

Description: Atsumu and Osamu ‘helping’ their virgin bestfriend.

Warning: explicit content. loss of virginity.

Length: 1.2k words

Part 1 (Kuroo, Oikawa, Akaashi)

there is no shame between you two. you two are very open when it comes to discussing the topic of sex, so it isn’t even weird when he starts complaining about the previous night and how it took him a ‘whole five minutes’ of jerking off to cum

you scoff, immediately shooting back that for the average woman, it takes much, much longer than ‘a wHoLe fiVe mINuTeS’

but when you mindlessly add something about how you’ve never been able experience any pleasure while fingering yourself anyway?

that’s when his ears really perk up

now the gears are grinding in his head - the way Atsumu thinks of it is, why wouldn’t it make sense for him to offer to help you with your little ‘problem’?

with his fair share of experiences, not only has he had plenty of open conversations with past partners about how they like being touched, but he’s also had the practice to hone his technique

and, he’s good. he knows he’s good. so at least this way, Atsumu can guarantee that your first sexual experience is with someone who actually cares about your pleasure rather than with a partner who half asses it and leaves you unsatisfied

Atsumu: just sayin’ 😏 settin’ ain’t the only thing these fingers are useful for 😎 🤪 👅

You: kindly stfu and never speak to me again 🥰

ultimately though, you agree. even if Atsumu goes about the whole ordeal with his usual smug demeanour, you know he’s still your best friend, and you can trust that he’s going to take good care of you

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You don’t know what’s more embarrassing - the squelching sounds of Atsumu’s fingers pumping into your slopping cunt, or the high-pitched cries that he’s luring out of your lips. Either way, it’s not like you have the current mental capacity to care anyway.

Not when you’re too busy grinding your clit against his calloused palm, all while the tips of his digits continue abusing that spongy spot inside you. The sensation is so delicious, so different from all those nights spent alone, just you and your own fingers. No, Atsumu’s are longer, bigger; they’re stretching you out to accommodate the thickness.

And he knows exactly how to use them, curling and prodding just right, until...

“‘Tsumu… I-I’m-”

Atsumu chuckles when you begin writhing around involuntarily, nails frantically gripping for purchase on his tensed arm. He allows you to curl into him, pulling your form closer to his broad chest as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and sob out soft whines of his name.

“Mhmm, just like that,” he murmurs into your ear, voice uncharacteristically gentle, “Relax, relax, I got ya.”

His fingers only cease their movements when you weakly tug at his arm, coaxing him away from your overstimulated core.

“So... I’d ask if it was good, but from all that squirmin’ and moanin’, I guess it’s safe to assume it was?”

Cracking your eyes open to the sight of a smug smirk on his face, you shoot him a glare as you huff.

“Fuck you, Atsumu.”

Your breath chokes up in your throat when he grunts in response, tone serious, “I could, yanno. Give ya a taste of what a real man can do. At least before ya end up with some loser who shows ya a half-assed fuck that barely makes ya shiver.”

Atsumu grins when you slowly nod, visibly gulping as you watch his hands unbuckle his belt to free the large bulge in his boxers.

“Hmm, maybe if ya cum nice and hard on my cock like a good girl, I’ll reward ya by usin’ my tongue next.”

even if you’re close friends with Osamu, it’s still unlikely that he’s all that open about his sex life. therefore, you may not regularly have conversations about his past hookups (or your lack of them)

what you do know, however, is that he’s not quite the inexperienced virgin that people often picture him to be when they compare his outward image to that of Atsumu’s

which is why you’re not too worried about Osamu refusing to help when you approach him about you wanting to learn how to give someone a handjob

at first, he brushes you off, saying you could always just learn from porn

you both know he’s not actually serious - porn, with its glamourized visuals and performative nature, probably wouldn’t be the most realistic source to learn from

eventually, Osamu relents, sighing something about how he’d generously lend you his expertise so you don’t ‘end up accidentally breaking some dude’s dick off’

though, he would stipulate that since you were going to see him orgasm, it was ‘only fair’ that he got to watch you too. he suggests that you could simply limit it to masturbating in front of him if you didn’t want to go any further

Osamu knows how scary the vulnerability of having your first sexual experience can be, and he reasons that by doing this, he can help you learn to grow a little more comfortable with it

so when it comes to actually carrying out your request, he’s gentle with you, offering quiet instructions and reassurances as you hesitantly handle his weighty cock in your hand

and if you’re still a little shy when it’s time to fulfill your end of the bargain? Osamu’s already prepared with another solution, one that he’s sure you’ll enjoy immensely

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“If yer not gonna do it,” you hear him say, “why don’t ya let me?”

Your shaky fingers still, slipping out of your core. If you thought you were embarrassed before, it’s only gotten worse now, a flashing heat crawling up your neck as you fully comprehend what Osamu’s suggesting.

You wait a moment, allowing a second to pass, and then another. Swallowing it in, gaining some semblance of composure. Then, you nod.

“Mhmm, ‘kay. Want my fingers or tongue?”

Now this was too much. You’re thankful that your eyes are shut, because facing your best friend now surely would’ve made you combust. With whatever courage you can muster up, you stammer your answer.

“T-Tongue, ple-please.”

You barely even have time to inhale, because now you can feel his hot breath fanning across your cunt, and you oh- you can’t even squirm anymore because his strong arms are holding your thighs down to the bed, and oh- oh- he’s licking.

He’s licking, tongue swiping up from your dripping slit, curling all the way to your swollen clit. Osamu’s pace is lazy, languid, and yet, it’s teasing all the right spots, prodding your sensitive bud over and over in a repetitive motion that makes you tangle your fingers into the sheets so you don’t lose yourself entirely.

“F-Fuck, ‘Samu, th-that feels... sooo much better than, ah- than my fingers…”

Your eyes widen when you feel him chuckling against you, the vibrations running straight to your core. Daring to glance down, you see Osamu’s grey head lift up as his dark eyes lock on yours. They’re mischievous, just like the slight grin on his face. Your breath hitches when his tongue darts out, licking the slickness coating his lips.

“Don’tcha worry. By the time I’m done with ya, yer never gonna be able to go back to just ya fingers.”

#atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu smut #osamu smut #haikyuu smut #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

We need more Time and Wild bonding

For you, Anon! And also for @1142 who requested the same thing!

Summary: Time sees his family, friends and other loved ones in his boys, but Wild especially is reminding him of himself this morning, and he wants to offer some encouragement to the poor kid.

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It's quiet to read alone, listen to this!

Epona’s song drifted through the cool morning air.

The sound brought a smile to Time’s lips as he snuggled closer to the warmth pressed beside him, breathing in the clean morning air and tugging the blanket up higher on his shoulder.

He really didn’t want to wake up.

Although, he didn’t remember opening the bedroom window last-

Wait. They weren’t on the farm! They’d gone to sleep in the forest last night! There was no window to leave open, and no Malon singing or lying beside him. He shoots awake, pulling himself up with the intent of looking around camp, only to have something pull him back down towards the ground.

Looking down, he feels his scarred heart melt. Twilight twitches in his sleep, arms locking around his shoulders, sleepily groans sounding as the lad hangs off him, cold nose pressed to his neck. Tiny, whuffling snores sound from his pup as the younger man nuzzles closer, and he can only chuckle softly and rub his protégé's back lightly as he settled back down to let Twilight sleep.

He is curious who had been singing though.

A single blue eye takes in the camp as he props himself up slightly on his bedroll, careful not to disturb Twilight as he takes in where each of his boys lay.

Legend and Hyrule lay curled into each other, Legend clinging to his protégé while Hyrule’s hands lay buried in his mentor’s silky hair, a smile on the face of the younger and drool on the face of the elder*. Warriors lies close by, sprawled across his bedroll and snoring fit to wake the dead, utterly content and comfortable in the safety of his brothers and proving it with his noise. Opposite the three, Wind and Sky curl close, Sky’s sailcloth and their blankets thrown over the two leaving only Four’s left foot visible from between them.

His pup curls close to his side, one leg thrown over his waist and arms locked tight around his shoulders, holding him in place and preventing him from rising, but the bedroll on his left...

Epona’s song continues to dance through the camp, and Time’s single eye finally falls on Wild, the cook busily scrubbing out his favorite cooking pot on the very edge of camp, the familiar tune dancing off of the young one’s lips, suds rising halfway up his arms and hair thrown back in a messy bun that reminds Time strongly of Lullaby’s own hair when the woman loses patience with it. Decorum be shot, the queen will throw her own hair back with a simple hair tie in front of the whole court, ignoring how it makes her appear and continuing her duties without hair hanging in her face and her neck free from the oppressing heat of its constant curtain.

If ever he doubted that Lullaby and Shiek were the same person, each time he sees his princess behave in such a way, he’s reminded that, different time lines or no, there is still the same fiery spirit and passion for change in his friend that there had always been, and it is something he is happy to see reflected in some of his boys, along with Malon’s stubborn personality and incredible strength and kindness.

Maybe he is looking for the traits of those dearest to his heart in the boys that had pushed their way in. Be it by force or by accident as the hero might be, but it brings him no small joy to see Lullaby in Legend’s sharp glares or in Warriors’ brisk manner when planning. In Hyrule’s swift fingers or Wild’s sharp and calculating eyes. To see her in Four’s dark eyes, always thoughtful, always knowing, or in Sky’s burning passion.

It’s a wonder to see Malon in Wind’s boisterous cheer, and in Twilight’s rolling laughter. To see his wife’s mischief reflected in Wild’s luminescent gaze or her love of life in the way Legend cares for his orchard and animal friends. And the glimpse of unbelievable strength in Four’s easy lifting of weapons as big as himself, or the echo of her in the firm set of Warriors’ shoulders always makes him smile to himself.

There are others at times. Saria in Hyrule’s smile. Kafai in Wild’s laugh. Romani in Wind’s eccentric ideas, Nabooru in Legend’s firm stance and heavily lidded gaze, Navi in Sky’s light scolding and Tatl in Four’s acerbic wit. Glimpses of home and family echo around him, pulling close what reflected it and making them home and safety themselves. And over it all he can hear the winding of tunes that both tore apart and hold together the memories of his youth.

And now, one such tune, one especially close to his heart, one meant only for the Lon family and their famous steeds, dances over the edges of the camp and past the ears of the sleeping heroes as Wild lifts his cooking pot and carries it over to the fire, singing softly with faint and muddled words, many of them wrong, mumbled or tripped over, but sung all the same as food winks into being from the champion’s slate.

“-ne-ver far from home. Epona, Epona, can you hear hmm hmm, singing from in my heart, hmm-hmm-hmm.” Mumbled hums break the words as the champion works over the fire, measuring and stirring. “Something if you’re wandering far away hmm-hmm, listen for this melody calling you! Re-mem-ber that you have something-or-other to complete! I trust hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hm!”

The muddled version of the song makes him chuckle softly, startling the younger hero into spinning around, the spoon that Sky carved him brandished like a weapon as the champion prepares to defend himself against whatever he thinks may have startled him. Face beet red and growing redder.

“You have a nice singing voice.”

Wild looks instants away from combusting on the spot. “hOW- How long were you awake?” Gone are the stumbling yet melodious trills of the cook’s voice, instead replaced with a panicked squeak only made worse by his age.

It was like the first time he’d successfully startled Shiek, both of them both still so young that their voices broke under pressure, and the thought makes him smile as he meets the startled child’s gaze.

“Long enough.”

Wild’s ears droop, quivering with shame and embarrassment as the kid’s shoulders hunch up to brush against them, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Time’s as boot scuffs the dirt softly. “I thought you guys- that is- I thought it was-” Cornflower blue glances up, meeting his own for only a second before darting away again. “I thought it was safe.”

Safe? What does the cub- Understanding dawns and he finds himself chuckling low and soft. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“It’s not that.” The champion whispers. “I just- I don’t like people...hearing.”

Oh.

Also familiar, also so very familiar. Only this time he doesn’t see his wife or sisters and brothers, or mother or friends in the flushed face of the hero before him.

A squeaky voiced young hero, who’d pulled his cap over his face more times than anyone would guess when looking at his scarred face now, had time and again been encouraged by a darting blue fairy.

“You’ve got a lovely voice Link. No shame, come on!”

Of course, fairies always like hero their Chosen sing, but Time himself had, admittedly, stumbled over notes and keys nearly as badly as his pup still does, but he’d lacked any of Twilight’s playful self-confidence to be able to own up to the harsh squeaks and shrieking chirps that erupted out of him whenever someone else tried to get him to sing, or caught him singing.

He was fine, when Navi was fast asleep or the Kolkiri were half a forest away, or when it had just been himself and Epona, trailing through the dark woods in search of a light he’d have given anything to hear encouraging him to keep trying to raise his voice. It’d been the first time he’d really tried to Sing for his fairy, but it hadn’t done anything but tempt over two fairies who already had their own Chosen, a skullkid who’d pulled him along into a world where his voice had hidden with his face behind mask after mask.

It took Malon catching him singing while at work in the barn before he’d been able to et the guts up to actually try for her, but it’d been worth it when he hadn’t had to fumble with fancy words to ask her to marry him, not when there was a song and a dance just for that that he’d learned for Kafai while in Termina. Malon made his heart sing, but she also made him sing, and while her voice far outdid his own, it always made him happy to hear the two ringing together.

He’d once hoped, once he found out, that he’d one day hear Twilight’s voice rise up with theirs on some starlit evening, but after hearing his pup sing...

He loves Twilight like a son, but heaven forbid he ever force his wife to listen to that tone deaf mess!

Wild though, oh, Malon would love to tempt Wild into singing and guide him along until his voice could ring with hers. The child had the voice of a fairy, ethereal and inhuman, but in a way that made him feel light and airy and almost like he could fly.

“Well...” He wants very much to stand and walk over to Wild, but he was still trapped and Twilight was both a brick and incredibly strong, leaving him trapped until his pup is good and ready to wake up, something he fully believed Wild would prefer to prevent happening for the time being. “I can’t not hear it, Wild.”

“Try?” The kid pleads, eyes wide and face nearly purple from embarrassment.

“It’d be an insult to whoever created the voice to do so!” The words spilled out before he could stop them. He was supposed to reassure the kid, not make him panic more by pressuring him! “That is- Wild, you have the voice of an... I suppose Legend would say “an angel” whatever those really are. To be frank, I wouldn’t choose to forget it if I could.”

“I’m not a good singer.”

“Bullshit.”

The newest hero’s gaze shoots up to meet his own, shock written across scarred features at hearing him swear. “You-”

“Don’t tell Warriors.” He whispers with a wink- blink- whatever, it was meant as a wink, and hopefully Wild would read it as one.

“You swore.” Wild breathes

“And you lied.” He returns. “You’re a good singer. Confident, maybe not, but I thought I heard Maon when I first woke up, and unless you want to tell me that my wife has a poor singing voise-”

“No! Of course not!”

“Settled then.” He smiled. “You’re a good singer.”

The champion stares at him, ears twitching slowly and eyes blinking as he processes the words, before a light scowl pulls at the kid’s scars as he crosses his arms. “It- no!” At the grin he shoots at the kid, Wild whines softly. “Dad!”

Both freeze at that. Or rather, Time blinks repeatedly, shocked, and Wild’s hands fly up to his mouth, eyes wide and horrified.

“I’m sorry!” Wild blurts out, still hiding behind his hands. “I slipped I-”

Laughter, deep and rumbling enough that Twilight is happy grumbling against him in response, sounds through the camp as Time throws his head back. He can’t stop it, but he will embrace it. This is the best morning he’s had in ages and Hylia have him if he doesn’t take a moment to enjoy it! “You’re fine, Cub. I’ve been called much worse than that more than once. Unless of course,” He grins at the young hero, brows pulling down in a mock stare, even if he can’t hold his smile back to be convincing. “You think I’d be a bad one?”

“No! You’re an awesome- You’re going to be-” Wild is somehow redder than he was before and he stomps his foot almost petulantly as he catches on to the laughter that still rumbles in Time’s chest. “Time!”

“I don’t mind.” He rumbles out, and more than anything he wants to walk over and ruffle the kids hair, or wrap him in a hug, but he’s trapped by Twilight, and instead can only lift his free arm in an offer that Wild hesitates to take. He’s almost considering lowering his arm and rescinding his invitation when the champion barrels into his side, face buried in his shoulder as Golden hair fills his vision.

“I hate you.”

“Such disrespect to your father.” Time scolds playfully, gently pinching Wild’s ear and making the champion giggle at the touch. “What will your Mamalon say?”

“Ma-” Wild sits up again, staring down at him in confusion. “Mamalon?”

His lips pull into a smile again, something he’s done more this morning than he has nearly all week. “Something Legend calls her, which I’m stealing because she and I both like it.”

The champion’s eyes trail down to where scarred fingers still tangle into his tunic. “Can I call her that too?”

“Well,” He chuckles. “If I’m your Father Time, I think it’s only fair she’s you Mamalon.” At Wild’s smile he smirks. “Ad she’ll be delighted to learn you already know the family song, if only in part. Her mother wrote that for her you know, and I’m sure she’d love to teach you the rest of it. She taught it to me after all, and I used to sing as poorly as Twilight!”

Wild’s mouth opens and closes a few times as a light blush colors the kid’s cheeks before he shyly nods. “I’d- I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” And breakfast or no, Time thinks the others can wait for a half of a minute to eat after waking up, because if Twilight’s going to pin him down than he’s going to return the favor with his other son.

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the-obelisk · 3 years

Text

Source - Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: The one where he helps you to channel your powers with patience, while pissing off Tony Stark in the process

You felt utterly useless.

Here you were, standing in front of Earth’s mightiest heroes unable to conjure up your magic like many of your cousins had with ease as children.

Magic, for you, never came easy.

When you had left your realm that floated right above earth’s visible plane, you fell in love with the mundane and the ordinary. You found beauty in the ease of things and small bursts of excitement because humans only remained on their plane for a short lived while, while you would age among various generations of humankind slowly.

When Thor had found you seated in a SHIELD interrogation room, eyes closed simply breathing deeply, he looked to Coulson-- a high ranking agent at the time. “How long has she been indoors?”

The man shrugged his shoulders, “About a month or so. She refused at first and then they stopped asking.”

“She is of Fae. Her people are connected to nature. She has lost her energy.”

Thor was cleared to bring you to the Avengers compound where you met the rest of the team. They welcomed you but you had seemed to lose the small amount of practice you had accumulated before your time of confinement.

Your powers were bounded at birth in protection from the dark elves that reigned terror on Alfheim now, it was why you were sent to the invisible plane above Midgard. Outcasts, refugees, and runaways— your history was erased. With that, hope was lost and the understanding of why your power were bounded remained unknown.

“Wanda, I don’t think I can do it.”

The redheaded was enlisted by Tony to help mentor you. It had seemed Wanda and you shared one common trait, the ability to tap into others minds. It was something that came of ease for you, however, they already had a mind reader, a witch with the ability of telepathy, they wouldn’t need you.

“Yes, you can. Feel your energy. Where is the source?” Her voice was calm but you were growing increasingly frustrated.

Tony, Steve, Natasha, Thor and Loki stood watching as Sam and Bucky waited for Rhodey to return with their snacks. Clearly it had been forever, and they were growing impatient. Thor every so often would give you an encouraging nod. He believed in you.

In a way they all did, but in that moment you didn’t feel it. Or specifically, hear that.

“How long is she going to take? I should start my training.”

“I have dinner with Pepper at 5. She’s gonna kick my ass if I hold her up.”

You closed your eyes again but knew you had no idea what source she was even talking about. All you felt was annoyed, tired of standing, and hungry.

Sensing this, Loki rolled his eyes and glided over to you, passing Wanda who stood off to the side of you. Tony and Steve immediately tensed up at the quick movement, while Rhodey entered at the moment already suspicious of why Steve’s fist was clenched. Thor looked over and spoke in a low voice, “Trust him. I think he may have an idea.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and offered him a pointed look, “Let’s hope it isn’t anything harmful.”

Loki smiled softly at you, “You feel no source, do you?”

You bit your lip and looked down, “No.” You looked at Wanda and shrugged, “I’m sorry. Maybe I just don’t have anything else to offer other than telepathy.”

The raven-haired man bowed his head catching your eyes, “But you do. I can feel it.” You looked up at him with questioning eyes only to see he had turned around and stared at Tony and Steve, “If you had let me help her originally, you would know that unlike the witch, her power isn’t sourced in her, it is in nature.”

“Well, how do you expect us to trust you, Reindeer Games? You are here because Thor gave us his word that you meant no harm.”

Loki rolled his eyes. He never cared what Tony Stark’s perceptions were of him. He turned back to look at you and caught your eye, “Do you trust me?”

You looked into his eyes and nodded. Of course you did.

While you both never spent time together in front of the other members on account that Loki always hid in the library. So when you weren’t buzzing around the building, and walked in to see him sitting in his usual chair— you would smile and begin talking.

Many times for extended hours, and with the exception of a few nights, your conversation often remained light.

But there were nights when vulnerability would seep in. And so, a blossoming interest in one another and a friendship developed in the quietness of late night conversations in your library.

“Very well.” He smirked and looked back at the group, “Being surrounded by this Midgardian garbage of concrete and rubber mats will do nothing for her. We shall take this outside.”

Tony glared daggers into Loki’s head as the group followed Loki and you to the courtyard. “Midgardian trash? This cost me a fortune. What the hell is he talking ab--”

You pushed his thoughts out as he projected them loudly. You giggled softly, Loki had looked down at you while holding the door. “You heard it too. Glad you find his anger equally as comical as I do.”

“I don’t think he will let that one go.”

“Good, I hope not.”

Loki smirked at you as you walked on the grass. He stopped soon after, and you followed. The rest of the group stopped at a distance. Wanda joined the spot next to Natasha and Thor, they all watched intently.

You looked at all of them until you heard Loki call your name softly. “Y/N, focus on me.” You met his eyes and inhaled deeply before nodding. “Sorry, I can’t focus with all of their eyes on me.”

He blew out a short breath in acknowledgement. “The redhead witch keeps trying to enter my barriers. Quiet annoying, I will say.” You smiled as you peeped a quick look at Wanda who seemed extremely focused on the man standing in front of you.

You heard him speak again, “May I?” Hands held out, he waited for your answer. You looked down and slid your gloves off. Your eyes drew back up to his and you slid your hands into his, feeling his cool hand wrap around your warm ones.

Normally, you hated touching but once you held his hands it felt as though the world slipped away. All you felt was energy, all that surrounded you. You basked in its soft hum.

He continued, “Now, I want you close your eyes and take a deep breath in with me, little one, and clear your mind.”

You closed you eyes in response, and smiled sweetly at the pet name subconsciously. To which Loki caught and smiled in return, knowing you couldn’t see.

“You are one with the world around you. Feel the warmth of the sun on this brisk day. You are at peace— the very center of the world around you. Everything here has energy. Nature holds memory of the past and present. You are here, darling. You are safe.” His voice was soft and smooth.

It would be a lie if you didn’t feel yourself melting into his words. They were slick and entrancing. “What do you hear, Y/N?” He asked in his soft lulls.

“The trees. The wind is blowing...” You spoke to him in a quiet voice.

Loki nodded, “Tell me, dove. How does the wind on your skin make you feel?”

“It’s soft and slightly warm after the initial cold.” You stated once again causing him to observe you curiously. He turned your hands to face each other slowly in hopes he wouldn’t sever the connection you found.

His hand cupped against the back of yours as if you were holding an invisible ball. “Gods, she is intoxicating.” Immediately you were pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his voice, “You aren’t supposed to be intruding in my mind, little one.”

You smiled tightly embarrassed of getting caught, you heard him chuckle. “Do you feel all the tethers connecting through you? They flow in and out of you. Concentrate them between our hands.

“I don’t know how.”

“Just feel and trust. Visualize it.”

Slowly you felt warmth gathering closer and closer to your hands. It was forming and growing, you projected a thought to him fearing you would break concentration if you spoke. “It feels like the sun.”

He smiled, “Open your eyes slowly and take a look.”

You opened your eyes to his eyes staring at you. He smiled at you endearingly.

Holding his gaze for a bit, you then followed his eyes down to the ball of light in between both of your hands. Inside it was white with several revolving colors that interchanged. Hues of purples, red, green, and blue shone with gold shimmering around the outside.

“We did that?” She looked at him with surprise.

“You did.” He spoke softly. “You are harnessing the world around you. Its energy.”

A smile grew on your lips out of excitement. He moved around you stopping behind you shoulder. You felt his hands slide down your arm, resting them on your elbow and back. “Now throw it.”

You gave a little push it forward and was greeted with a cloud of smoke and Tony yelling. “Not the tree! Come on.” He threw up his hands as Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey laughed throwing popcorn at one another.

“That was awesome.” You looked at Loki in pure amusement. You couldn’t explain the feeling that coursed through your body.

He smiled at you and nodded, “I told you that you held power. Come, I have a few books to show you.”

You nodded eagerly and followed him as Tony yelled at Thor. The blonde smirked at his brother knowing he found joy in pissing Tony off even more. However, he was even more amused at the the scene they had all watched. He noted Loki’s softness, one that the team didn’t get to see. It was shocking to them, but to Thor, it was an emotion he know Loki rarely let others know of.

It was the quality of a small effort towards redemption.

“Thank you, Loki. Really.” You said walking alongside him.

The raven-haired man smiled, “No need to thank me, little one. Now, let us go before he combusts out of anger.”

“You got it, Trickster.” You said acknowledging that he full well enjoyed getting to Tony once more.

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction

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bigwhispersbluebird · 3 years

Text

Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.

#bts #bts reactions #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #fanfic #fic #canon #angst #kim taehyung #v #taehyung #reader #oc x canon

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Text

REQUEST: Can I request Bokuto with a soft & short manager s/o and she always helps the team cheer bokuto up when hi is in emo mode and like a lot of fluff🥺👉👈

A/N: Tumblr is being a whore with their Keep Reading button, putting it on the ask and shit smh. So I apologize for the repost.

alate. | bokuto kōtarō

word count: 1776

warnings: none

(adj.) having wings; lifted up in flight

Official match protocols only allowed one manager on the court for each team. Fukurodani Academy’s Boys’ Volleyball team always had their lenient but reliable third year managers to get the job done. Third-years Yukie and Kaori had been your final salvation against the inevitable fate of having to care for the raucous boys alone. But today with some lucky fortune of theirs, they’d somehow coerced you into taking their place.

“...Will I experience any internal combustions by the end of the match?”

The three of you stood in a personal circle at the entrance to the gym. The three managers of Fukurodani, with your two seniors looming over you like two scheming birds of prey. They didn’t even have to ask why you were so worried; despite being a second-year, this was your first time to stand on the court with the team instead of panicking on your own on the sidelines. This time, you were in the game, up-close-and-personal.

“You’ll do fine~” Yukie grinned, raising her right hand in a lazy ‘OK’ gesture. “Besides, you’re a total expert when it comes to giving Bokuto a good knock in the head.”

If Bokuto’s vanity was a chronic disease, he’d need more than just a “good knock in the head” to be cured. But Yukie wasn’t wrong. Your praises, in comparison to the others’, had a quicker, more powerful effect on the ace. Though you weren’t sure if that skill of yours was more of a blessing than a curse...

“W-well, I’ll do my best,” you muttered, fiddling with the hem of your track jacket. Your seniors exchanged a look before smiling softly at you.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Kaori piped up as you lugged the bag full of empty bottles over your shoulder. “Can you act a bit bashful when you’re complimenting the captain?

“Why’s that, Kaori-san?”

“Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

‘Cute’? What did that even mean? Did Bokuto always think people were ‘cute’ whenever they flash a single praise at him? Not that you remembered... What’s with that, you grumbled, angrily trying to get the concept into your skull.

Your eyes darted back to the court where—much to your distress—the other team just had to be painfully good at blocks. Now, you just hoped that the boys wouldn’t get too disgruntled.

The score was 12-15, with Torasaka Metropolitan High in the lead. Though Fukurodani had obtained their twelfth point with a lucky read on Torasaka’s setter dump, things were obstinately bleak for your team.

“I want to try it!” you heard Bokuto exclaim excitedly. From afar, you could already spot a few sullen scowls begin to form on his teammates’ faces. “Hey, ‘Kaashi, do you want to try that block with me?”

The setter sent you a pained expression enough for guilt to comically swallow you whole. Returning his attention to the ace who’s practically bouncing on his heels, Akaashi sighed. “Bokuto-san, let’s focus on our normal blocks first.”

A child! you thought incredulously as you watched the captain stick out his tongue at him. Though Bokuto was particularly a sight to behold when he’s in top form, just how confident could he be, trying something so risky in a middle of a tight match? Or was he just a complete and utter numbskull? You thought he was rather amazing for the juxtaposition... in a Bokuto fashion, of course.

As Washio prepared to serve, you watched the ace literally vibrate with eagerness of having such an “interesting enemy”. Whenever Bokuto got extremely fired up, it was your inevitable fate that you just couldn’t look away. The way his jersey hugged his hulking frame as he flexed his muscles in preparation to follow the path of the ball, it was nearly bewitching. If he had been like this his entire life, you were sure your heart wouldn’t take being with Bokuto for a mere second.

“It’s up!” Torasaka’s libero signaled, cleanly receiving Washio’s serve (much to the player’s frustration).

In your memory, Torasaka High wasn’t a much known threat until just recently. “Their new first years block like a fort,” you remembered what Coach Yamiji had said in the bus that morning. Despite far from being as crafty as Nohebi or as versatile as Nekoma, Tokyo teams were a force to be reckoned with.

What a terrifying sport, you thought to yourself for what seemed to be the fifth time this month.

“Left! Left!”

On the other side of the court, Sarukui, Bokuto and Akaashi scrambled to follow the ball’s trajectory. Though you were only a rookie in this entire volleyball thing, you were quick to notice that Bokuto’s footsteps were a bit smaller and slower than the first two...

Wait, is he planning to delay the timing of his block now?!

It was definitely a quick from the other side. It was evident, even to you. And when the two jumped to block the ball with their ace lagging behind, the ball had already streaked over him at a dangerous angle. Point Torasaka.

Landing on the pads of his feet, Akaashi’s expression shifted between “candidly annoyed” and “visibly concerned” as he watched the captain raise his head for his team to see.

“You’re kidding me...” Sarukui groaned under his breath. Behind him, the others followed promptly with their own reactions of disbelief.

His infamous salt-and-pepper hair deflating alongside his shoulders, Bokuto whined, loud enough for you to hear from the benches. “The hell... I thought I had that block mastered. Why’d they have to make it look so easy?”

Time-out! Akaashi turned to you and the coach a with pleading stare, hard enough for your supervising teacher to shoot upwards and signal the referee for their second break of the match.

Groaning, you stuffed your face in your hands, hoping that your senior managers in the audience were praying for your good health.

“What were you thinking?!” Coach Yamiji hissed, giving the sulking ace a well-deserved smack to the side of his head. Bokuto didn’t even flinch. “You could’ve—”

“Coach. Let me.”

Snapping his head in your direction, the old man grew pale when he heeded the dark aura that spewed from your body. Even the others, though they were only watching the entire event go down, was hyper-aware of the invisible, nightmarish fog that came with your frustration.

You’d always seemed so sweet and indulgent, never angry. Never. And yet Bokuto had finally gotten you to drop the tether that held your patience together.

Walking to Bokuto, you sent him a scowl so cold, he forgot how to blink. The rest of the team, the coach, your teacher and even Yukie and Kaori in the stands shivered from the sudden gust of frosty air that oozed from you. Some of the audience surprisingly turned their heads to watch the spectacle of the tiny Fukurodani manager who seemed like she was about to trample on their ace.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“Bokuto, you—!”

You froze. No. If you scolded him now, that only make matters worse. Bokuto didn’t fare well when he was scolded by Kaori or Yukie either. Besides, you were his manager, not his mother. But what else were you going to do?

Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.

Swallowing a nagging lump in your throat, you recalled the words of your seniors. Embarrassed? How do you do embarrassed? Was that even a thing you could pull off manually? Taking in a deep breath, you tightened your fist before loosening them in front of your body. Something was better than nothing.

“B-Bokuto-senpai...?”

“Senpai?!” the others snapped towards you, jaws on the floor. Even Bokuto was stunned.

Eyeing his interested gaze, you continued, fidgeting bashfully, “Bokuto-senpai’s such a slob... If you just listened to the others... you’d be a lot cooler...”

Komi tugged at the back of Konoha’s jersey, whispering in the blonde one’s ear, “She’s pulling out the ‘Cute Tsundere’ card!”

Stupefied, the wing spiker muttered, “Bokuto’s actually taking the bait... Scary. L/N-san’s scary.”

And take the bait he did. You didn’t even realize how red you were with the way he was looking at you—and the shade was fully unintentional, much to your chagrin. But Bokuto’s sullen mood was far gone, replaced with the brighter interest of infatuation.

“A lot cooler...?” Bokuto savored your words in his tongue, before whipping out both his hands to grab at your shoulders. “Y-You think I’m cool?!”

You didn’t even have to pretend to be shy anymore. The close contact of his skin, the scent of his sweat mingled with the musky aroma of his cologne and the pinkish tint on his cheeks. It was too much, and you soon wondered if Bokuto had always seemed this charming to you.

“Y-you airhead! Of course I do,” you mumbled, lowering your sight to the floor. “You’re already really good at volleyball, but you do things like forcing yourself to do a block you can’t do just because you want attention and... and now everyone has to bear that burden.”

“Please go on a date with me.”

You flinched in his grasps. This was escalating much faster than you’d hoped it would. Unable to register what he had said, you asked him to repeat himself.

“The cute Y/N-chan thinks I’m cool. That’s like a dream come true, right? So if I become cool again, won’t you go on a date with me?”

How unbelievable. One second he almost reminded you of the small boy that lived below your apartment, and the next he was like some sort of phantom thief, ready to whisk you away from the confines of your castle and steal your heart. You smiled earnestly; Bokuto Koutarou really was a man of many wonders.

Slipping yourself away from his grip, you raised an index finger between his eyes. “If you win... I’ll consider it.”

Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, the ace lit up once more. Revived, renewed, and heart set on taking you out. While dragging Akaashi back onto the court, Bokuto made it a point that he was looking at you all the way. You giggled. What an interesting person.

From the stands, your gaze traced the motto of Fukurodani’s Volleyball Club. Pour all your soul into each ball. Bokuto played with passion, with his emotions and whenever the time was right, with his logic too. For a while, volleyball seemed like the last thing you’d want to spend your life doing. But seeing the ace’s blushing grin to you when they’d scored the final match point... it might not be as bad as you thought it’d be.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou imagine #bokuto koutarou scenario #sfw #bruh haikyuu writing #fukuroudani x reader

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michelangelinden · 3 years

Text

A coffee order doesn’t tell you someone’s sexuality (but it kind of really does)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @iti-iskuna I WROTE THIS FOR YOU I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

this is a willex coffee shop au because there aren’t enough already! (Thank you @sunsetcurbed for beta reading ily)

(6.2k words, link for ao3 is in the reblogs)

„Honey, I’m home,“ Luke calls as he strides into the apartment.

Alex groans loudly as a greeting. He doesn’t want to get up from the couch. His position isn’t very comfortable – his face is pressed into the armrest, his neck at a very awkward angle – but he needs to lie like this to mope correctly.

“Why isn’t dinner on the table yet? What are you doing in the living room?” Alex lifts his head to stare at him. “Sorry,” Luke says quickly and comes over. He drops his backpack by the coffee table and Alex pushes himself up so that Luke can sit on the couch and Alex can lie back down over his lap. Luke begins to gently card his hands through Alex’s hair.

“Why are you moping?” he asks, scratching Alex’ scalp and he feels himself relax a little.

“You know how I work at the coffee shop down Wilshire Boulevard?” he begins and Luke chuckles.

“Yes, I am in fact aware of that job. Pays our rent.”

“Right. Get a job, by the way.” Alex turns his body so that he’s lying on his back and his face isn’t squished by the cushion.

“I’m working on that. Continue.” Luke starts pushing Alex’ hair out of his face.

“Anyways. So, you know how I meet a shit load of people every day. Like, we have our regulars, but we have a lot of new people coming in, too.”

“Let me guess,” Luke interrupts him, “cute boy?” Alex groans again in response and raises a hand over his eyes.

“So cute. You have no idea.”

“You’re gonna tell me about him.” It’s not a question. Luke already knows what’s coming.

“I sure am, close your eyes.” Alex peers up at him but the angle doesn’t let him see if Luke actually did as he was told. “Are they closed?”

“They’re closed.”

“Alright, picture this.” Alex thinks back to the situation from this afternoon. “I’m just chilling behind the counter, wiping the same spot for like three minutes straight, ‘cause I’m so bored, it’s a Tuesday afternoon, you know the drill.” Luke nods. “Flynn said some stupid shit, as she does, I’m laughing, and the bell above the door rings. So, I whip around, a little surprised, because, you know, Tuesday afternoons are always super lame and no one gets coffee –“ there’s a bite of pain his side “– hey!”

“Get on with it.”

“Chill. Okay. So, I turn around and in walks this absolute god of a man.” Alex takes a moment to envision him again. “Long, dark hair, black shorts, a skateboard under his arm, tie-dye shirt that’s, get this,” Alex pauses, “cropped.”

“Oh shit,” Luke gasps, rightfully so, that has been a damn sight for Alex’s sore eyes.

“YES! And he just strolls into the shop like it’s no big deal, like I’m not dying behind the espresso machine just looking at him.”

“Did you greet him?”

“I didn’t, at first, I was too stunned by the inch of skin visible above the shorts.” Luke laughs because that definitely hasn’t been the first occasion that Alex has been stunned into silence by the looks of a cute boy. “But Flynn pushed me and I had to serve him.”

“And?”

Alex frowns.

“What?”

Luke sighs.

“What’s his name?”

“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t ask.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Luke looks down at him, his eyes now open and his eyebrows in a deep frown.

“It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the shop was empty! I can’t just ask him for his name if he’s the only one there,” Alex exclaims, gesturing wildly, before hesitating. “He’d think I’m a creep,” he concludes.

“But now he just thinks you’re not interested in him!” Luke counters.

“Good! He’s not supposed to.” He glares at him. “He’s a customer, Luke, I have rules.” He groans again. “Hell, I don’t even know if he likes men.”

“What did he order?”

“Vanilla cold brew.” Luke squints his eyes at him until he continues. “With oat milk.”

“He’s gay,” Luke says with a satisfied nod.

Alex scoffs.

“What? Luke, someone’s coffee order doesn’t –“

“Have you ever had a customer order a vanilla cold brew with oat milk that gave you heterosexual vibes?”

Luke raises his eyebrows at Alex, who frowns in concentration. Then he sighs.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Told you!”

Alex grumps.

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Luke offers, patting Alex’s chest consolingly.

“God, I hope he doesn’t,” Alex answers, but at Luke’s confused face he quickly adds, “I’d combust if I had to see him again.”

Luke makes his ‘that’s fair’ face. Alex drops his arm over his eyes again, trying to block out reality.

The front door opens again, a fresh gust of wind blowing over Alex’s face and he lifts his arm. Reggie’s face pops up in his vision, sporting a bright grin, but it turns into a concerned frown when he spots his roommates on the couch.

“Oh no,” he starts, stopping in his tracks, “why are you in the ‘Alex is sad’ position?”

“I’m not sad, Reggie, just gay,” Alex answers him tiredly.

“Oh my god, same,” Reggie exclaims loudly.

He lifts Alex’s legs and drops himself onto the couch next to Luke, draping them over his own lap. Alex turns so that his face is pushed into Luke’s stomach. Luke gives a small ‘oof’-sound in surprise but starts stroking Alex’s hair again.

“Bobby took me to the petting zoo to pet some goats and it was really cute and he was really cute and I was so excited and he took a photo of me and called me ‘Boo’ and –“

Alex closes his eyes. He really loves Reggie but he can’t really handle listening to him gush about his almost-boyfriend-but-also-not-really-boyfriend-but-actually-definitely-his-boyfriend while he’s still moping.

So, he tunes him out, presses his face further into Luke’s stomach, and lets him handle the situation.

***

It’s another Tuesday afternoon and Alex is fucking bored. The shop has been a desert for the better part of his shift – he’s had like three customers and none of them wanted cool fancy drinks but instead something like ‘a coffee, black’ or ‘a green tea, please’.

Not that there is anything wrong with liking black coffee or green tea, but the least his three customers could do for him is ordering something fun for him to make that requires more than pressing a single button. Especially when it’s a Tuesday afternoon.

Flynn is on her break in the back, talking to her girlfriend Carrie on the phone, but Alex doesn’t mind that she left him alone; it’s not like they have anything to do anyways. And when she uses her break to talk to Carrie, the amount of time she spends to talk about her is much shorter, which Alex appreciates. He loves Flynn and Carrie both, but they’ve been dating for two years now and act like an old married couple which can get hella annoying hella fast.

He’s standing behind the counter, sharpie in one hand, drawing random doodles on the paper cup in his other. He’d started with a ghost, that’s his go-to drawing when he’s bored, but now it has four friends, three dogs, a small drum set, a microphone and two failed attempts at a guitar.

When the bell chimes and the door opens, Alex lifts his head and he almost drops his pen.

It’s the boy from last week – hair down, shirt cropped, a skateboard in hand. And he’s headed his ways.

Alex looks over his shoulder to check if Flynn finished her break and magically appeared behind him but nope, he can still hear her giggling in the break room.

Fuck, he thinks as he turns back around. He startles when he sees the boy right in front of the counter, smiling at him.

He straightens up and clears his throat quickly, running a hand through his hair, almost tangling the pen in it. He drops it and it hits the counter’s edge before falling to the floor and Alex crouches down at rocket speed to pick it up. When he snaps back up he sees that the boy’s eyes follow every movement, his eyebrows quirked and his lips in a lopsided grin.

“You good?” he asks, his eyes scanning Alex up and down.

He clears his throat again, his mind scrambling for an answer for probably a moment too long.

“Yeah!” he settles on eventually, really rushed and with too much air to be too convincing. “Uh, yeah, sorry,” he continues, tucking the pen in the front pocket of his apron. “I didn’t have a lot of customers today, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t expect you.”

The boy chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and Alex could combust right then and there. Who gave this man the right?

“Yeah, it’s not very busy right now,” he says, looking around a little. He turns back to Alex. “I was here last week, though.”

“I- yeah. I, uh, I just didn’t expect you to come back.” Alex is so sure his face his bright red from embarrassment. Why can’t he just hold a conversation like a normal person?

“Well,” the boy starts, leaning his board against the front of counter, “I liked your coffee.”

Alex stares at him for a hot second before clearing his throat a third time.

“Anyways, what can I get for you?”

The boy smiles again.

“I’ll have a vanilla cold brew with oat milk, please. The biggest one you have.”

Alex smiles a little at the order but nods, punching the order into the cash register and picking up one of the plastic cups. He contemplates for a second, before pulling the sharpie from his pocket again, starting to push the lid off with his thumb.

“Uh, what’s your name?” he asks carefully. God, he hopes he doesn’t sound creepy.

“I’m the only one here,” the boy answers and Alex half expects him to frown, when he looks up at him, but he’s sporting a small grin.

“Uh,” Alex just says again and mentally kicks himself for it. “Sorry, I-,” he continues, closing the sharpie again and beginning to tuck it back into his apron, when the boy speaks up again.

“It’s Willie,” he says with a smile shining through his voice and Alex blinks at him. “My name is Willie. With ‘ie’.”

Alex looks at him for a second longer than probably appropriate, studies his long, brown hair falling over his shoulders as if carefully draped there; the small golden earring in his right ear, glistening in the afternoon sun shining through the windows; the mischievous glint in his dark eyes as he looks back at Alex. He decides that Willie with ‘ie’ fits perfectly.

Alex smiles at him. He flicks the lid off the sharpie, careful not to send it across the counter, and writes ‘Willie' on the cup in his hand, adding a smiley face after another second of contemplating and deciding that fuck it, he deserves a smiley face.

He moves over to the coffee making station, flipping the lid of the vanilla syrup open and swirling some into the cup with a skilled motion. He adds a scoop of ice and then another, filling the cup almost to the brim. He’s just closed the fridge getting the cold brew when he hears the boy – Willie – speak up again.

“Is this yours?” he asks and when Alex turns to him, pitcher of coffee in hand, he sees that Willie is holding the paper cup full of doodles. “Did you draw these?”

Alex feels an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks and he looks down again, concentrating on not missing the cup when he fills it with coffee.

“Uh, yeah, I was bored.”

“They’re cute,” Willie says and Alex feels that it’s genuine, the smile noticeable through his words. “I like the ghosts. And the dogs.”

“Thanks,” he answers, not looking up out of fear that Willie might notice his blush.

“What are they called?”

Okay, now Alex does look up, looking at Willie with a frown.

“What?”

“You need to give them names,” Willie tells him as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Really Alex, why haven’t you given them names yet, huh?

“Uh,” he just says, unable to form correct words in his head.

“Can I name them?”

Willie looks at Alex with his eyes sparkling softly, the excitement clear on his face and if the plastic cup full of coffee in hand weren’t for him Alex would crush it for sure.

Can Willie name the doodled ghosts and dogs on his cup? Of course, he fucking can, he can name Alex first born if he asks like that.

“Uh, sure, go ahead.”

He’s so glad he sounds so calm because he’s totally screaming on the inside.

Willie beams at him and turns back to the cup, holding it closer to his face and studying the drawings.

“I’ll call this one George, totally the vibe. And this one – oh, that’s a cool drum set!”

He’s turned the cup over looking at the other side and for a moment Alex feels bad that he has to see his ugly drawn guitars.

“Thanks,” he says anyways, because yes, his drum set did turn out pretty good.

“Do you play?”

Alex’s head snaps up from where he’s pouring oat milk into the cup.

“How- how do you know?”

“You do?” Willie's eyes widen as he looks up at Alex. “Really? That was a wild guess.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him, Willie's excitement over that revelation infecting him too.

“Yes, I play,” he tells him happily, setting the carton of milk down to not spill anything. “I’m actually in a band too,” he adds because a little promo can’t hurt.

“Dude!” Willie almost yells, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex. “That’s so cool! What are you called?”

Alex feels pride and excitement bubble up in his chest as it always does when he gets to talk about his band.

“We’re ‘Julie and the Phantoms.’ Tell your friends!”

“Oh, I will! Do you play gigs? Are you on Spotify?”

Alex chuckles a little when Willie pulls his phone out of his pocket eagerly.

“We are, we have an EP out. You should check it out.”

“I definitely will!” Willie taps on his screen before he gasps. “That cover looks so cool!”

“Thank you so much,” Alex says genuinely. “Julie designed it herself.”

Willie looks back up at him, the smile still stuck to his lips.

“Who’s Julie?”

“Oh, our lead singer. She’s honestly the best. You’ll be so impressed when you hear her, I promise.”

They’d all been there when they first heard her sing. That girl has a power that’s not to be underestimated.

“I can’t wait,” Willie answers and his clear voice accompanied by his honest eyes tells Alex that he means it.

For a moment they just stare at each other, both smiling, a blush high on Alex’s cheeks, Willie still holding his doodle cup in one hand and his phone in the other.

It gets awkward after another moment because Alex notices the ice in the cup in his own hand hurting his fingers a little. He pulls his gaze away from Willie and down at the coffee, busying himself with slapping a lid on it.

“Your, uh, your coffee.”

He walks back over to the counter and sets it down in front of Willie, pulling a paper straw from the tall glass next to him and balancing it on top.

“Thanks, uh,” Willie's eyes flick down to the name tag on Alex’s chest, “Alex,” he finishes with a smile. “What do I owe you?”

Oh. Right. Money.

He glances at the cash register.

“$4.55, please. Do you want a receipt?”

“No, thanks,” Willie says. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his shorts and fishes out a $5 bill, sliding it over to Alex.

“Keep the change,” he says while dumping another $1 bill into the tip jar. He grabs the straw and his cup and slowly walks back towards the front door. “I’ll see you around?”

Warmth spreads in Alex’s chest at the thought of seeing Willie again.

“Yeah, definitely.”

Willie smiles at him and salutes him with his drink before he turns and exits the shop.

Alex stares at the closing front door for a moment, watching Willie place his board onto the ground and step on it, pushing off and skating away out of Alex’s sight. When he can’t see him anymore and it doesn’t look like another customer will enter the shop, Alex places his hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward to let out a loud groan towards the floor.

What just happened? Where did Willie come from and why does he make Alex’s insides feel like mush?

This – this – is not okay!

“Ehm, what did I just witness?”

Alex’s head snaps over to Flynn standing in the doorway to the hallway, one hand propped up on her hip, the other holding her phone.

“How long have you been standing there?” Alex asks, not moving from his awkward position at the counter.

“Long enough to watch you fall head over heels for a skater boy.”

Alex gets up straight immediately, holding his hands up in defense.

“I – I didn’t – I’m not in – I didn’t fall – You can’t,” he starts to splutter, taking a step back and bumping his hip against the counter. “What?”

“Sweetie, you had a whole gay panic in the 30 seconds I watched you.”

“What?” he says, his voice raising at least an octave and he clears his throat. “No, I didn’t.”

Flynn doesn’t answer him, just tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

He groans again because yes, she’s right, he did have a gay panic.

But who can blame him, honestly, when Willie exists with his beautiful hair and his beautiful smile and he’s just strolling into the coffee shop wearing a cropped shirt and –

“Alex!”

His head snaps around to the source of the voice and his eyes lock with his friend Julie, Luke standing behind her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, one hand hovering in the air as if close to reaching out for him.

“Yeah,” he starts, but Flynn butts in and yells “gay panic!” over from where she’s standing behind the espresso machine.

Luke perks up behind Julie, his eyebrows flying up until they’re hidden under his fringe.

“Was it the crop-top boy from last week? Did he come back?” He comes up behind Julie to stand next to her, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex.

“I –“ he pauses, glancing back at Flynn, who just raises her eyebrows at him. “Yeah,” he answers with a sigh, watching Luke gasp excitedly.

“Did you finally get his name?” Luke asks.

“Wait, what? Who are we talking about?” Julie asks with a frown, looking back and forth between Alex and Luke.

“Alex has a crush on a –“ Luke starts to explain, but Alex cuts him off.

“I do not have a crush on him!”

“Then tell me why you were staring longingly after him just three minutes ago.”

Alex gasps dramatically at Flynn’s betrayal, turning back and glaring at her, but she just glares back at him. He sighs again, turning back to his friends.

“So, there’s this customer, his, uh, his name is Willie.” He pauses for a second for Luke to start vibrating out of excitement about the new information. “He came here for the second time today and – and he’s so beautiful, fuck!” He slumps forward, burying his face in his arms on the counter.

“Oh Alex,” Julie said consolingly but he can hear her smile. He feels her hand patting his hair gently and he lifts his head a little, setting his chin on his forearms.

He’s fucked. He’s so fucked. And Willie is so beautiful, Alex just wants to scream.

***

“No- no Flynn, you can’t – don’t leave me!” Alex argues as Flynn struggles to release his grip. “It’s 3.30, he’ll come any minute now!”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to be here!” she argues back, softly punching him in the stomach to let go of her. It doesn’t hurt but he gets the message and releases her shoulders. “I don’t want to watch you simp over this guy for five minutes while you stretch making his coffee just so you can talk to him.”

She’s calling him out and she’s right. He does take way too long making his drink just to get him to stay a minute longer. But it’s not like he’s harming anyone with it. Most of the times Willie came in in the past month he’s been the only customer and he never seemed to be in a rush, so Alex doesn’t feel bad for pouring the milk in very slowly.

And yes, she’s also right about the simping part, even though he really doesn’t want to admit it. He keeps staring at him when he talks about a topic he’s interested in – art for example, he really likes art – and has to be careful not to spill anything when that happens. It happened once. He’s not proud of it.

But every time he starts to ramble about something he likes his eyes start to sparkle and it seems like he’s glowing and his hands are everywhere and he makes it really hard for Alex to look away.

Willie got him to ramble too, one time, about the band and their music and when Alex looked up from the cup in his hands and at Willie, he saw that he had the brightest smile on his face, teeth shining and his eyes crinkling. Alex had felt the punch in his gut before his brain caught up to him.

Yeah, he does have a crush on Willie, there is no denying it now, as much as he wants to. But there’s not really much he can do about it.

So, he can kind of get why Flynn tries to get on her break. Still.

“I don’t want to be alone with him, Flynn. He’ll say something cute and I’ll start crying.”

“Oh my god!” Flynn lets out an exaggerated groan. “Just – be the responsible one and start flirting with him or something. Tell him he’s cute.”

“I can’t!” he says loudly. “I have anxiety.”

Now it’s Flynn’s turn to put her hands on his shoulders, shaking him a little while she speaks.

“Alex. You’re 20 years old, you pay rent for an apartment, you’re an adult, you play drums in front hundreds of people! You can tell a boy that he looks cute!”

Alex opens his mouth to argue but she shushes him.

“I –“ he tries again but she cuts him off with a “nope” and when he opens his mouth again she finally asks “what?”

“This is different,” he says, very softly, hoping she finally gets his struggle.

She doesn’t.

“Okay, how is this different?”

He groans internally. How do people not get this?

“I – I don’t know, I –“ he breaks off to heave a sigh. “I really like him, okay? I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

Flynn tuts. Not in the annoyed way, but in the way she does when Julie is being really dense about Luke’s crush on her or when Reggie hurts his foot jumping around while playing bass.

“Alex,” she says slowly, grabbing his face and making him look at her. It’s a little awkward, her being almost a foot smaller than him, but her grip is strong and her message clear. “He wears crop tops and buys coffee with oat milk. I don’t think there is a single drop of toxic masculinity in him that would make him think it’s weird if you call him cute.”

He stares at her, his head unmoving between her palms, as she glares into his eyes, into his soul. She squeezes his cheeks a little and he chuckles quietly. She smiles at him and releases his face.

“Here,” she says, looking down at her chest and removing the small rainbow pin from her apron. “Maybe this can give you some emotional support.” She fastens the pin to his own chest, right next to his nametag, and puts her hand over it once she’s done.

“You got this!”

“Thank you,” he says genuinely.

The bell above the door chimes and Flynn’s eyes fly over to the entrance.

“Oh, he’s coming,” she whisper-yells, removing her hand and turning on her heel. Alex takes a step forward in panic, trying to get her to stay one last time.

“No, Flynn, please,” he tries but she shakes her head without looking back at him.

“Nope, I’m already leaving, good luck!” She throws him a thumbs up before she disappears around the corner.

Alex stares after her for a moment before turning around slowly, facing the counter and Willie behind it. Willie smiles brightly when their eyes meet, his gaze warm and Alex feels his stomach flip from that alone.

“Hey,” Willie says, “what’s up?”

Oh, nothing, I’m just hopelessly in love with you, Alex thinks but thankfully doesn’t say out loud.

“Nothing,” he answers instead. He steps closer automatically and props himself up with his hands on the edge of the counter, as he always does when Willie comes in. “Just, uh, life, I guess.”

Willie chuckles at that, a strand of hair falling in front of his face and he brushes it back with his hand absentmindedly. Alex follows the motion closely and hopes Willie doesn’t notice him staring.

“Yeah, I get it.”

They both stay silent for a moment before Alex remembers why Willie came here in the first place.

“Coffee,” he blurts before he can stop himself and he leans back to get to the cash register.

“Right,” he hears Willie say and then the sound of him setting his skateboard onto the floor.

“Vanilla cold-brew with oat milk?” Alex asks, his fingers already hovering over the buttons.

“Actually,” Willie starts and Alex looks at him, “I kind of want to try something new today.”

“Oh, sure. Do you already have an idea?”

“Hm, no, not really.” Willie leans forward, settling his palms on the counter, his face turned upwards at the menu above Alex’s head.

“Do you mind if I suggest something?” Alex asks carefully. Willie tilts his head to look at him and smiles.

“No, not at all, please.”

“So, you like sweet things, right?” Willie nods. “Okay, I’d suggest a latte and we got this cool new cinnamon syrup that makes everything taste like cinnamon buns. I can make it iced and with oat milk, too, if you want to.”

Willie's face lights up and he nods excitedly.

“That sounds great, thank you so much,” he comments. Alex bites at his bottom lip for a second but then he smiles, giving himself a second to appreciate Willie's smile before turning to make his drink.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Willie leaning forward, his elbows on the counter and resting his face in his palms. He can feel him watching him work, observing his motions of preparing the espresso, swirling the inside of his cup with the cinnamon syrup and filling it with ice. It’s not really something to show off with, but if he could he totally would. When he turns to get the milk from the fridge he catches Willie's gaze, head tilted slightly to the side, and he feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. Knowing someone is watching you is one thing, but seeing it makes it more intense.

“So,” Willie starts to strike up a conversation, “what made you decide to be a barista?”

Alex huffs a laugh, taking the espresso cup and tipping it over the plastic cup.

“It’s really not as exciting as you might think,” he says, setting the empty cup next to the sink and looking at him. “I moved into an apartment with my friends, needed a job, saw that the café was hiring and applied and thankfully I got the job.” He adjusts the straps of his apron as Willie takes a short look around the shop.

“Do you like working here?” he asks when his eyes have settled back on Alex, now slowly pouring the milk into the cup. He’s taking his time, not only to not overfill it, but also to get Willie to stay longer, talk to him longer, to look at him like that for just a little bit longer.

“Yes,” he decides, because it’s true. He does like working here. “Yeah, I really do.”

“What’s your favorite thing about it?” Willie asks, his gentle voice showing genuine interest.

“Oh, that’s hard.”

There are so many things to like about his job. He likes that it always smells like coffee and sugar when he comes in, he likes it when the sun shines in through the glass panels at the front and paints the entire café in golden hues, he likes having his regulars greet him like friends and tell him about their day. And he likes the work too, making coffee, preparing desserts, talking to his coworkers.

But then he knows what to say.

“Probably observing people,” he finally answers, causing Willie to laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, no, I know how it sounds, but not in the creepy way.” He allows Willie to calm down for a second. “I like watching them being here as a part of their daily routine, you know. When they come here before work they’re stressed because they have somewhere to be, but when they come here after work they always stay to chat for a bit.” Willie nods. “And sometimes we have people come in here, order a hot chocolate and a croissant and then they sit here for hours typing on their laptops or writing in notebooks. And there are people going on dates here and there are many friends and families just spending their afternoon and –“ he breaks off, noticing how he’s rambling and spares a glance at Willie.

“Oh, please continue,” he encourages him, the smile on his lips warm and comforting.

“I – I don’t know, I just – I like the idea of being a part of their life, in a way. Giving them something nice to make their day a little better.” He looks down at the drink in front of him. “Even if it’s only an iced cinnamon latte. Do you want whipped cream? It’s vegan.”

“Yes, of course, thank you.” Willie straightens up, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He watches Alex add whipped cream to his drink, as well as another small swirl of the syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“Ah, look at how pretty that looks.” Alex carefully takes the cup and places it in front of him on the counter. “Please appreciate it for a second, before I slap a lid on and smush it.”

Willie laughs but leans forward again to take a closer look.

“It looks very nice, excellent swirl, chef’s kiss.” His eyes flick up at Alex and he feels the blush, that has never quite left his cheeks, darken.

“Thanks,” he says with a short laugh.

“I don’t think I need a lid,” Willie says as he leans back again, “but I do need a straw.”

Alex nods, pulling a paper straw from the glass and sticking it into the cup.

“Voila. Now it’s done.” He pushes it a little closer to Willie. “Please try it.”

Willie reaches for it immediately, picking it up slowly to not spill anything. Alex can’t help but stare in anticipation as Willie takes the first sip through the straw. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a satisfied hum and Alex is too busy blushing hard to be proud to have evoked that reaction.

“This is really good,” Willie says after a moment, keeping his eyes closed and taking another sip. “Thank you for recommending it.”

Alex clears his throat, trying to get his brain to focus again.

“Sure. You’re, uh, you’re welcome.” He has to scrunch up his eyes for a second and when he opens them again he sees Willie looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You good?” he asks and Alex nods.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do, really. How much is it?”

Alex’s brain jumps on again and he moves over to the cash register, tapping in the order.

“$5.20, please. Would you like a receipt?”

Willie shakes his head, setting the cup back onto the counter and pushing his right hand back into his shorts pocket. Alex fiddles with his apron straps again while he waits and adjusts his nametag, too.

When Willie hands him the cash, dropping $2 into the tip jar, his eyes settle on Alex’s chest and a smile on his lips.

“Nice pin, by the way,” he comments, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

Alex, who thought it had stopped, blushed again, looking down at the rainbow pin still on his apron.

“Thanks, it’s my friend Flynn’s.”

He now remembers why he’s wearing it, too. Emotional support. For telling Willie that he looks cute. He can do it, he thinks. But he doesn’t.

“Here’s your change,” Alex says as he hands over a few coins.

Willie nods and a silence forms around them, while they both kind of stare at each other but also kind of don’t. At least Alex tries to hide it, but Willie's eyes bore into his face.

“So,” he starts and Alex can hear his foot scuffing the floor. He’s nervous. “Are you, like, an ally?”

Alex blinks.

What?

Alex didn’t hear him correctly. He can’t have. That can’t be what Willie just asked him.

He blinks again and a concerned frown settles on Willie's face.

“Are you – not an ally?”

What?

“I’m gay.”

Realization dawns on Willie's face. His frown loosens and he opens his mouth slightly.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Alex answers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Cool.” Willie pauses, nodding. “Me too.”

“Cool,” Alex repeats, to seem causal, but inside his brain he’s yelling gaygaygay on repeat.

Willie stares at him for another moment and Alex tries his best to stare back.

“I’m gonna go now,” Willie says, grabbing his drink and taking a step back.

Alex’s thoughts are a wild mixture of no, please stay, you make everything feel warm and oh my god, please leave, this is getting too awkward, but he doesn’t want to say either of those so he just says “okay” very quietly and mentally kicks himself for it.

So much for telling Willie that he’s cute.

Willie walks backwards a few steps before finally turning, holding his board under his arm and his drink in his hand, to pull the door open. Alex watches him, unmoving behind the counter. Just as Willie's about to step outside, he turns again, still holding the door handle. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in and out.

“Hey, uh, if I were gonna ask you out on a date,” he pauses, “would you say yes?”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Yes.”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Okay, cool.” Willie moves to leave again, before stopping once again. “When does your shift end?”

Alex can’t believe this is really happening. He glances back at the clock above the menu.

“In about an hour,” he answers, his voice raising at the end like a question even though he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Okay, cool,” Willie says again and Alex laughs a little. Willie smiles at him.

“I’ll see you then?” Alex asks, just to clarify what Willie seems to imply.

“Totally.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him.

“Okay, cool,” he repeats Willie's words and this time Willie laughs a little.

Willie takes one last look at him before actually moving out of the door, placing his board onto the ground and stepping on it. He doesn’t push off right away, shooting one last smile at Alex and waiting for him to smile back and wave at him.

Alex’s eyes follow him rolling past the front of the shop. He’s still smiling when he disappears out of his sight and Alex feels like his whole body is glowing.

He grips the straps of his apron, biting back a laugh.

This can’t be real, he thinks, but the condensation of the drink on the counter is real and the tips in the tip jar are real and the blush on his cheeks is real and the date – date – is also real. So very real. Holy fuck.

#happy birthday mo!!#linda writes stuff #willex coffee shop au #willex #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #willie jatp #alex mercer #alex jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Was wondering if I could request a Dorian x Rogue Reader where the reader’s never really taken part in any sort of pageant event before and needs some guidance from the party’s resident performer? Love your writing by the way! Have a great day!

Thank you and I hope you like this one too. Have a nice day! 😘

Everyone’s picking out outfits, talking about the pageant and having fun doing so. Orym and Fy’ra have gotten out of participating in the pageant but you weren’t as lucky. Wether it’s because Opal is very convincing, you’re easily tempted, the prospects of a shiny crown or Dorian’s persuasion, you don’t know. Might just be all of the above but you’re apparently in now and will be participating and find yourself playing the part of dress up doll for Opal who’s put you in a grand total of twenty-seven outfits varying from big voluminous dresses to nice suits, some of which including some impractical but pretty armour.

Awkwardly you leave the dressing room. This dress she’s put you in is so poofy you can’t even lower your arms to your sides as the sheer volume of tule keeps them at an angle. You’re pretty sure you look about as comfortable as you feel. The only good part about this humongous ballgown is there’s loads of places to hide weapons and stuff you could possibly lift from people’s pockets among the yards upon yards of fabric. Opal is fawning over you, pulling at the fabric flouncing it up to adjust the layers. Dorian notices your feelings about this twenty-eighth outfit and steps in to save you from the pageant expert.

“Maybe not this one? It doesn’t really do much for their figure, wouldn’t you agree?” Opal taps her lips at Dorian’s suggestion. The genasi has a point. The majority of your features get lost in the garment and no amount of accessorising can fix that. She scrunches her brow and nods. You let out a breath of relief hoping to be done with this. Not like you mind shopping but dressing up in this many outfits is exhausting and you can’t wait to be done. Why can’t you just pick a random one off the rack and call it a day? Lesson of the day; never go pageant shopping with a pageant girl. You’ll be at this for hours.

“Yeah. Too much volume. Maybe we should go back to something more formfitting. I think I saw a couple of outfits that would work much better.” Opal’s words make your breath hitch and you keep in a groan at the mention of more things to try on as the girl scurries off to find the things she saw and you’re left with Dorian. Turning to him as you finish staring after Opal and praying to the gods these new outfits she’s looking for would just spontaneously combust before they made their way back to you, you grab the genasi by the cloak, both hands clutching on tightly.

“Save me, Dorian. Please have mercy and save me from this hell.” You beg. Dorian presses his lips together tightly as to not let the laughter escape. He’ll have to admit it’s very funny to see you so completely and utterly out of your element but he also feels for you.

“I reckon we have about ten minutes before Opal returns. Only way to stop her is finds something you like and suits you well. Blow her away with whatever you find. As long as you look as uncomfortable as you feel, She’ll keep coming with the outfits.” Dorian’s right nothing will satisfy Opal as much as you feeling as comfortable and pretty as they know you are, regardless of you admitting it or not. The problem is, you don’t even know where to start looking. This shop, it’s all just a needle in a haystack for you.

“You have to help me find something and quickly! I don’t think I can take another hoop skirt or waistcoat. I might just faint.” Dorian clasps your hands over his and releases your grasp on his cloak. He offers you a confident smile that somewhat eases your fears of the intimidating woman on fashion spree. Dorian pulls you along to the racks, using one hand to browse while holding yours tightly clasped in the other giving it a soft squeeze whenever you look over your shoulder and around to find Opal and her growing heap of clothes.

“So we’ve eliminated any big skirts and traditional suits. How do you feel about something fitted and flowy?” Dorian brushes his fingers over the shoulder of a smocked shirt. You stare down at the poofy mess you’re still stuck in like a butterfly in a net.

“Uhhh, as far away from any ballgowns as we can get please. I don’t mind a bit of a cinch.” You say as Dorian picks up something akin to a corset with set in with decorative chainmail pieces. He holds it up to your body, purses his lips and puts it back not the rack. Not really your style. You need something fierce and practical, something that shows off your features just right but won’t be wearing you and will still make you feel comfortable in your own skin.

Then he spots it. This will look perfect on you. A dark navy blue fitted top with a deep v-neck nearly down to the bellybutton, and fitted sleeves. The matching leather pants also are fitted and somewhat resemble what you normally wear, though these are much less weathered. Over this all goes a very long trained chiffon robe rhinestoned like the night’s sky held together by an ornate silver clasp at the waist. When Dorian pulls it from the rack and holds it up to you you don’t know wether to fear or feel relieved at the look he gives you. Before you know it you’re being rushed back to the dressing room. Dorian helps you out of the monstrosity of the gown you’re in and leaves you to change into the new outfit as he distracts Opal long enough before she can return with the pile she’s gathered.

You never doubted Dorian to have style but this takes it to a whole new level. This is perfect. It fits in all the right places and whatever he said about it showing when you feel uncomfortable in a garment, it’s true as when you see yourself in the mirror that fully disappears and instead you feel confident. It may not have any protective properties like your usual armour does but it sure feels like you could take on the world right now. You’re badass, beautiful and confident.

When you step out of the dressing room you can already see Dorian mid argument with Opal who wanted to barge in, arms filled with clothes of all kind and the shop assistant being with whatever she couldn’t carry, huffing and puffing under the weight of it all. Their attention turns to you. Dorian’s attention turns to you and he doesn’t know how but you take his breath away. You look absolutely stunning. You look like a deity from the stars themselves, the energy you radiate does you justice and if he ever even had an ounce of doubt (he never did) it only shows your natural beauty more than ever.

“Oh. My. Gods.” Opal exclaims as she drops all the fabric in her arms rushing over to you, inspecting your new outfit, gushing about how it fits and how you should style your hair, maybe do some makeup to match the ‘star-effect’ of the robe for cohesion. You can’t even keep up anymore but let her ramble on. She tells the assistant you’d found your outfit and the assistant exasperatedly begins picking up the pile she dropped to put back on the racks. No more fittings for you. Opal’s satisfied and you’re safe. You offer Dorian a look of gratitude and he winks back, not daring to interrupt the fashion tyrant dressed in pink.

——————

Backstage before your turns in the pageant you get a moment alone with Dorian as the two of you watch the other candidates. You’re panicking as Dorian pulls up your hair, adding a comb to keep it in place and add some flare. You have no idea where he got it nor dare you ask right now, just thankful he’s been doing what he can to ease your nerves. This is not your thing. Prancing around like some trick pony is not your thing. You stick to the shadows, at most mingle with society using honeyed words to get what you need or want but this is a whole new world and you feel as if your skills are useless in this environment.

“You’re going to be okay. All you have to do is answer the question. It doesn’t take much more than a charming answer to persuade the judges. No different than persuading a shopkeeper to give you a better deal.” Dorian adjusts the comb before removing his hands and taking a step back to inspect his work. He taps your shoulder and has you turn around. It doesn't take a genius to see you’re nervous and the jitters are clear through your bouncing leg as you sit staring up at him, panic in your eyes and breathing hitching high in your chest visible through your partially exposed collarbones.

“Yeah but getting a better price on potions doesn’t have a crowd a few hundred large to witness it. What if I say something wrong? What if they don’t like me?” Dorian kneels in front of you, stroking your cheek and hand on your shoulder.

“Deep breath.” You do as you feel his thumb run across your cheek, the gesture alone calms your nerves a little bit and pulls you back to this world. You nod to signal you’re good.

“This is no different that the real world. If you say something wrong, own it. Make them think it’s intentional. There’s very few things you could say that you couldn’t own or turn into something funny.” Dorian assures you. You place a hand over his on your cheek and press a kiss to his wrist as a thank you as he continues.

“As for them not liking you, I don’t see how the couldn’t instantly be mesmerised. You are gorgeous, intelligent, resourceful. If they don’t eat you up and admire you for who you are they don’t deserve you.” The next candidate is called to the stage and both of you know you’ll be up soon. You’re glad Dorian’s pep talk is working and you can feel the affection from him. If only he knew how much it means to you to have him here. Then again, you’ve told him plenty of times how amazing he is.

“Why are they walking all weirdly getting on stage?” You raise an eyebrow as the next candidate places one foot directly in front of the other, walking on their tiptoes more than their full feet.

“Watch the hips.” You do as Dorian says and you can see their hips swaying as they walk adding just a little bit more flare to that strut. You have to say, it kinda looks good. Maybe you should give it a try?

“Could you, I don’t know teach me? I know how to sway hips but this, this goes beyond me.” You gesture to the candidate stopping at Ruby to answer the question. Dorian looks a little taken aback but rises to his feet pulling you with him. He never thought he’d ever be teaching anyone how to walk the walk and is pretty sure he’ll get some weird looks from the others but he doesn’t really care if it makes you happy and more confident about this whole pageant. He puts his hands on your hips as you stand facing each other but keeps a bit of a distance between he two of you so you can still take the steps as you would on your own.

“Okay, so first things first. You want to keep your steps on the same line. See it like walking on a narrow ledge or a tightrope. You want to stick to balancing on your toes and keep a bounce in your knees. Don’t lock them too much. Light on your feet.” Dorian guides you forward as he steps backwards with you guiding you along, tapping whatever hip is swaying next. Your movement is a bit rigid at first but before you know it you’re doing it and Dorian steps away to let you strut without his help. You’re a natural. He gives pointers as you turn but you have the walk down in no time.

Then your name is called. The panic returns for a second but is overshadowed by your newfound confidence. You look the part, you got the act down so act the part too. Confidently you strut down to Dorian, give him a seductive look as you stroke his cheek following his jawline. He’s gotta say, he likes this look on you but can see the glee break through your seduction.

“What would I have done without my handsome hero in blue?” You smile and give him a kiss.

“Still be stuck in that dressing room with Opal probably? You look stunning. Go show them exactly what you’re made of.” Dorian encourages you, a hue of purple spreading lightly across his cheeks as he watches for any witnesses to your moment. Holding on to his cheek as long as you can stepping backwards you offer him one last wink and blowing him a kiss before you turn and strut onto the stage ready to play. Who knew pageants could be fun after all.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #exu x reader #exandria unlimited x reader #dorian x reader #dorian storm x reader #critical role #critrole #exu #exandria unlimited

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mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Sapphire -

(Mammon x MC)

| part two | part three |

NOTE: F!MC

It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever. The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.

“MC! Are you listening?” Satan was looking at you with slight irritation, closing his book. The two of you have been studying for an upcoming test in the common room since you got home from RAD.

You jumped a little, abruptly interrupted from your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I guess I zoned out.” You replied sheepishly. You sat up in your chair, looking at your textbooks trying to regain some kind of memory of what you and Satan had been studying, but it was no use. As of late, there was only ever one thing on your mind. Well, one demon anyway.

“It appears that your mind is elsewhere. Maybe we should take a break and pick it back up after dinner?” he suggested.

You checked the time on your D.D.D., and jumped up from where you sat. Satan looked at you, shocked by your sudden rash behavior.

“Oh, umm.. I can’t tonight, I have a....thing. Tomorrow though?” You rushed around gathering your books and notes into a disorderly pile. Satan looked at you suspiciously. What has gotten into her? He thought.

“Alright. Are you actually going to be present? More than just physically, I mean.”

“Yes, yes. I’m really sorry. Thanks!” You yelled over your shoulder as you ran from the room.

As you rounded the corner of the hallway, you ran right smack into something, sending you and all your books and papers flying.

Great.

“Oof!”

That thing you smacked into? Yeah, that was Mammon. You both landed on your butts with a *thud*

“What the Hell are ya runnin’ for?!” He griped, confused as to what had just happened. When he noticed who had run into him and his attitude changed. “MC? What are ya doin'?”

“I’m sorry, Mammon! I didn’t mean to run into you, I’m just in a hurry.” You quickly explained, trying to gather all your papers, again. He grabbed the small bit of papers near him and handed them to you.

“In a hurry for what?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side a little.

Shit! He can’t know where I’m going! I need to make an excuse and fast!

“Oh, umm.. I, uh, I-I’m going shopping with Asmo! Yeah.” That should work. He ususally follows you everywhere, especially shopping but once it comes to shopping with you and Asmo? Yeah, he’d rather sit that one out. Although, I’m sure he’ll complain that you’re not hanging out with him anyway.

You quickly grabbed the last bit of papers and took off toward your room without another word to Mammon.

“It’s movie night, ya know?!” He called after you.

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” You yelled hastily, before quickly shutting your door.

“Hmph. Guess I’ll just do movie night by myself then” He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip a little like a small child.

As he turned to go to his room, something caught his eye.

A piece of paper the two of you had missed. He picked it up and looked it over.

It’s for sure MC’s handwriting. Is it song lyrics or somethin’?

He shrugged and shoved it into his pocket.

“I don’t have time to change, so my RAD uniform will just have to do. I just need to grab my bag, then I can go. Ugh! I’m gonna be late!” You said aloud while darting around your room.

I’m pretty nervous. I’ve never read any of the stuff I write in front of anyone, much less a crowd or people. Maybe I won’t choke since none of the brothers will be there. Could you imagine reading what you wrote in front of HIM?

*Shiver.* No thanks. Pretty sure I would spontaneously combust.

You grab your things and hurriedly rush out of your room. Hopefully I get out of here without being seen. I’m not sure how many lies I can come up with.

As you made your way down the staircase, someone came through the front door.. Dammit! It’s Asmo.

After a quick discussion, you were able to slip away from him.

Checking your D.D.D. for the time, you quickened your pace. “If I hurry I can make it there before the first reading.”

Mammon laid sprawled out on the couch in the common room, scrolling through Devilgram. He sighed heavily. “I’m so bored.”

He heard someone talking just outside the doorway.

Is that Asmo?

He went to investigate only to find Asmo walking down the hall with an arm full of shopping bags.

“You guys are back already?” Mammon questioned him.

“Pardon?” Asmo asked, visibly confused.

“You and MC only left like an hour ago and you’re already back? Are ya sick?”

“Mammon what are going on about? I left to go shopping right after school.”

Huh? She ...lied?

“MC told me she was goin’ shopping with ya and left in a hurry earlier. If she ain’t with you, where’d she go?”

“Maybe she has a date.” Asmo shrugged and headed toward his room. Mammon stood there motionless and shocked like he’d been slapped in the face.

A date? The thought clawed it’s way around his brain. He felt a pang in his chest.

He’s always with her. To and from RAD, after school, through dinner, and until bed. Always together. They’re best friends.

So how did she manage to meet some other demon without him noticing? He started to get antsy and decided to go look for evidence in her room.

He looked everywhere. All over her desk and dresser, he couldn’t find a single shred of information on this mystery demon. Feeling defeated, he flopped across her bed with a groan.

Am I not good enough? I mean, she already spends all her time with me, what’s she need someone else for?

Thoughts of MC being with someone romantically ...intimately, started flooding his mind. He tried to shake it, but they just kept coming. The pain in his chest got worse.

He’s always been fond of her. In the beginning, when she was still new, he acted like it was such a burden to watch over her, but he secretly enjoyed it. There was just something about her. As hard as he tried to fight it, he found himself developing a sweet spot for the human. She’s always so nice and sticks up for him when it comes to his brothers. She always seems happy to see him and is down for whatever crazy money making schemes he can come up with. Before she got here, it had been a long time since he had felt this happy. He’s pretty sure he’s never laughed so much in his entire existence than when he’s with her.

As much as he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care about the human, he doesn’t want to go back to life without her. Truth is, he cares about her. A lot.

All the thinking was starting to depress him.

He decided to get up and go to his own room and sulk for the rest of the night. Maybe he could stop by Lucifer’s study and sneak off with a bottle of Demonus.

As he made his way to the door, he noticed something. The little calendar on your desk had a date circled in red. He picked it up to get a closer look. The date circled was today.

“Coffee shop, 6pm”

Boom. Re-con was successful! He found out where your date was!

He put the calendar back on your desk and checked the time. Crap! It’s almost 7.

He bolted from the room. If he had any chance of seeing what kind of punk lesser demon you were on a date with, he needed to hurry.

“This has to be it. She only goes to one coffee shop.” Mammon whispered to himself as he tried to peak inside the front window of the establishment. He couldn’t see you anywhere from where he was and decided to go inside and sit at a table in the very back. Maybe she won’t notice me. He thought.

He scanned the room, but still couldn’t see you anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom?

As he kept scanning the room, the lights started to dim and everyone focused their attention to a small stage with a lone microphone at the back of the shop.

Huh?

A light shined on the stage and a man stepped up to the microphone.

“Thank you all for coming, we have a great turn out tonight. Without any further adieu, let’s get open mic night started!” The crowd applauded and the man walked off stage.

"Open mic night? I didn’t know she liked this kinda stuff.” Mammon said quietly to himself.

Maybe that’s why she’s on a date. He probably noticed all the stuff I didn’t. Mammon sat back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest, pouting. She’d never wanna be with an idiot like me anyway.

A couple people read poems, one girl sang, and a few people played instruments. Still no sign of MC.

Maybe she does know a different coffee shop. He started to fidget in his seat, mentally kicking himself. You shoulda told her, ya idiot!

How could he though? He is one of the seven rulers of the underworld. How is he supposed to tell a human that she makes his life so much better? That your laugh is like music and his favorite smell is that of your shampoo? That when you fall asleep next to him on the couch on movie night it’s the best night of his week?

“Our final act of the night is new to the stage and a little nervous, so go easy on her.” said the emcee. The audience started to applaud as the man walked off stage.

Mammon scooted his chair out and stood to leave. She obviously wasn’t here and he needed a drink.

He was making his way to the door, when he heard it.

That voice. MC?

He turned to see you standing on the stage, spotlight shining on you. He listened as you spoke.

Is that ...a poem? The words sounded very familiar, like he had heard them very recently. Then it clicked.

He fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. The poem you were reciting on stage was the same thing written on the paper he found in the hallway.

She wrote this?

He looked up at where you stood on the stage. You hadn’t noticed him so he made his way back to his seat. As he watched you, he started paying attention to the words you were saying. You spoke so softly.

“It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever.

Gold flecks, warm like sunshine, adorn the precious gems he dare call an iris.

The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.”

So there really is someone. He thought. There was a stinging feeling in his chest. You don’t talk like that unless love is involved.

“Warm skin, the color of caramel, electricity felt in the slightest of touches.

Hair born of the winter, soft as the Heavens from where it once reigned.

Completely enamored by this creature, I would also happily fall from grace.”

Hair born of winter? Fall from grace? Tan skin?

Wait. That sounds like..

Realization hit him like a truck.

“..It’s about me..” He whispered, barely audible even to himself.

His chest felt like it was going to explode. His stomach so full of butterflies he felt nauseous.

He couldn’t believe it..

| part two |

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon fluff

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ceo-of-daichi · 4 years

Note

pls I beg of u. a crumb of hinata and or Kags taking you on a cute date and having a very mushy and nervous confession.

A/N ~ KRISTEN!! Thank you for being patient af and i hope this is kinda what you wanted? I struggled with Kageyamas but i loved writing Hinatas omg🥺 Hes such a babie!!!

Straightening out your soft yellow sundress in the mirror you tried to rid your nerves one more time. You were always closer to Hinata than the others on the volleyball team but you never expected him to ask you on a date.

Truth be told you had always had a small crush on the energetic boy but you never thought he had time for crushes, the thought of him even thinking of girls was weird. His head always seemed to be in volleyball, but clearly you had been mistaken.

Thinking about how nervous he had looked when Kageyama had pushed him towards you in class, you laughed slightly at the thought before a knock brought you out of your head. A soft blush covering your skin as you practically bounded down the stairs to open the door.

Opening it you smiled, looking him over. He was wearing brown chino shorts and a white tee, he looked dashing to say the least. A wide smile covered his cheeks, but you could tell he was shaking on the inside.

‘Shall we go then?’ You asked after a few minutes of just staring at each other with dorky smiles mirrored on your faces.

‘Oh y-yeah sorry about that… you just look really p-pretty.’ He managed to stumble out, visibly starting to panic. Him being so nervous around you caused you to constantly have a blush across your face as you walked towards the park in your area. It was quaint and had a small lake that often was littered with ducks and ducklings.

Knowing you like being outdoors and love animals he knew this was the perfect spot for you both to have a picnic, Hinata really wanted to impress you on the first date. This was very obvious from your point of view as he put in so much effort to keep the conversation flowing on your walk there.

As you reached the spot he had prepared, the blanket was already down and the basket in place. The spot he had chosen was right in front of the lake, however under the cover of some trees so you wouldn’t get burnt. He had thought this through, you thought as you both sat down on the blanket.

‘Hinata, this is a beautiful spot’ You stated, looking across the lake, your eyes scanning every duck swimming and all the beautiful trees behind swaying slightly in the wind. Your afternoon went so much better than planned, you and Hinata laughing and joking around while eating the picnic food he had made.

By the time it was starting to get dark you noticed him starting to get nervous again, fiddling with his fingers and his skin turning slightly paler than usual.

‘Are you okay?’ You ask your eyes filled with concern as you put your hand to his forehead checking his temperature, fearful he was ill. This was probably the worst idea as this small amount of contact made him combust.

‘L-Look [Y/N] I just really… I really like you and I'm nervous that you think my mind is all volleyball and not you. But i think about you a lot, it took Kageyama and Sugawara-senpai to make me realise that i had feelings for you and i just was wondering if you wanted to maybe go out again sometime?’ He rambled at you, his eyes squeezed shut as he did.

A smile appeared on your lips as you listened, taking in all his nervous confession.

‘I would love to go out with you again sometime.. I really like you too’ You replied with a wide smile, a dark blush covering both your cheeks. But it wasn’t long before his huge dorky smile was back planted on his lips.

You always knew Kageyama to be quite distant with people, always keeping to himself. Even when he was talking to you it seemed like he showed little to no interest. That's why when he approached you during lunch, a strawberry milk carton for you in hand and asked you out on a date, you were more than confused.

Due to you saying yes, you now both awkwardly stood next to each other waiting to be seated at a small restaurant in town. He was wearing a black button up shirt and black trousers, looking extremely dapper. While you went for a more casual black skirt and white lacy armed bodysuit.

Not much conversation was had while waiting to be seated, mainly because you didn’t know what to say and he looked nervous. You could see the small bead of sweat that adorned his forehead, as he smiled sheepishly at you.

Sitting at a small booth next to a window, your eyes panned the streets outside, people watching was one of your favourite activities as it always interested you. He watched you curiously over the menu as your eyes scanned the streets, causing a small smile to grace his lips.

He couldn’t believe you had said yes to him and here you were sat across from him, looking almost ethereal in the dimly lit booth. Now he just had to try and find something to say so you wouldn’t think this date was a complete bust.

‘Y-You like people watching too?’ He asks, his voice slightly croaky before he clears his throat, a light pink dusting his cheeks. You turned back to look at him, a smile perched on your lips as you replied.

‘Yeah! I love it, I find it so interesting and calming.’ As you kept talking about all the reasons why you enjoyed it, Kageyama could do nothing but watch you talk with a wide smile. He could listen to your angelic voice all day and because of this he kept asking questions, and before you knew it you had finished eating and the date was ending.

As he walked you home there wasn’t a quiet moment between you both, happily chatting away as you wandered through the dark streets. As you got to your house, you thanked him and started walking towards your door hoping that another date would be mentioned in a couple of days' time.

‘[Y/N]!’ Kageyama shouted, causing you to jump and turn around to face him. You noticed he looked nervous again like at the start of the date.

‘I really like you please go on another date with me at some point’ He yelled bowing furiously.

‘I-I would love to… Just let me know the time and place, I will be there’ You replied, laughing at his confession, a dark blush adorning your cheeks. ‘Oh… and i really like you too!’ You shouted back just before you closed the door.

He just stood there unsure of what to do now. His brain raced with thoughts not about volleyball but about you and the possibilities, and not for the first time that night he let a smile grace his lips.

Tags ~ @super-noya @stcrryskies @iwaxme @bb-noya @vventure @scorpiosanssexy @sugawara-sweetheart @watermelonsugawara @taeya-san @mrs-kuroojinguji

IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED MY TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK

#kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #kageyama x you #hinata x you #kageyama x reader #hinata x reader #kageyama fluff #hinata fluff #kageyama tobio x you #hinata shouyou x you #kageyama tobio x reader #hinata shouyou x reader #i was thinking of daichi this entire time #but this is cute #babiiessssss #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo x reader

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 123

It feels really good to be back writing and posting, I’m going to be super honest. Thank you again, to everyone who reads and leaves notes on these chapters. You keep me going and encourage me more than you will ever know.

This was originally going to be one chapter, but it went really really long and I didn’t have the heart to leave parts out. Even splitting it in half, each half is longer than most of the chapters so far. But I couldn’t help showing how far the Ark has come from simply “figuring out how to exist”! In my defense, @baelpenrose egged me on, too. Blame him. :P

Shout out to @zommbiebro, @charlylimph-blog, @books-and-cartoons, all the other contributors for characters in this chapter. INCLUDING @werewolf2578 for Michael Smith, who finally makes his debut here. Finally.

As Maverick and I entered the gymnasium - now larger and more finished than it had been when Arthur and Jokul’s showdown happened several years back - the atmosphere was filled with excitement. Three Terran years previous, collapsible bleachers had been constructed shortly after sporting and skill exhibitions had regained popularity on-par with Pre-End times, and today was one such occasion. Every seat was packed, and Miys was working overtime in multiple bodies, strategically positioned to keep the air filtered. Else-chicks swarmed on the floor, eagerly consuming anything that had been spilled or dropped.

Today, Jokul and Arthur were once again on the floor, in full view of the crowd. Instead of a bloody one-on-one, no holds barred fight, however, they were two of twenty participants in a weapons exhibition. Between them, Charly bounced on the balls of her feet, scanning the audience - a smile here and there when a container of neon popcorn caught her eye, but a huge grin along with extra bouncing and an enthusiastic wave when she saw our small group. She elbowed Arthur, who was deep in conversation with Tyche and Coffey on his other side. All three turned to wave.

“Where’s Conor?” Maverick asked, searching the floor carefully.

I shrugged. “He may be on his way, or in another room, stretching. You know he isn’t a huge fan of crowds this large.”

With a huff, he blew a lock of hair out of his face. “I know it’s his first one of these things, but he’ll be fine. He’s gotten really good. Even Charly and Tyche said so.”

Evania Josue took the floor and gestured for silence, indicating that the exhibition was starting. “Thank you, everyone who could be here in person, and everyone watching from other areas of the Ark, and welcome to our second Von-annual ranged weapons exhibition. As with last time, combustion weapons will not be used in any of our events, for safety reasons. We will continue with our order from the previous event, and begin with axe-throwing.”

Cheers erupted, and Tyche, Coffey, and Arthur took their seats on the sidelines. Charly, Jokul, and three other less-familiar faces waved to us as they were introduced, before drawing lots for the order they would go in. One of the people I didn’t recognize went first, and made a pretty good showing - all six axes hit their targets, regularly striking midway to the bullseye from a distance I could barely hit the floor from. Charly was second, and Maverick clenched my arm tight enough to make me wince - she was the smallest competitor in this event, but the entire crowd went deathly silent as she lined up the first target.

Thunk. Bullseye, and buried deep.

Thunk. Just left of center.

Thunk. Another bullseye.

Three more axes led to one more bullseye and two just to the right of center. The crowd exploded into cheers, only going quiet as the next person stepped forward. It was another solid execution, but not quite in the same level of skill that Charly had demonstrated.

Jokul was last, and as soon as he stepped forward, you could hear a pin drop. No one even dared breathe, lest they missed out on what they hoped they were about to witness. Sure enough, Jokul stood three feet to the left of the first table holding an axe, and started walking at a calm pace. Without breaking stride, he would grab an axe and suddenly it would appear in the center of the target. No windup, no careful lining up of his throws, just ten paces, six axes, and six bullseyes.

Screaming erupted from the entire gymnasium, to the point that Miys was covering their sensory organs. Charly was red in her face from cheering, and I honestly could not blame her - it was one of the most impressive things I had seen, and never ceased to amaze me. Even Arthur was nodding in approval and applauding.

The cheering died down to a murmur of discussion as the athletes took their bows and the equipment was removed. Charly and Jokul both took seats on the sidelines, while the other three left the floor entirely, indicating they had no other events. The next event was slung projectiles, which neither Maverick nor I was remotely interested in.

He leaned closely so he wouldn’t distract anyone. “So, I’ve been wondering this for a while now… Those axes are pretty heavy, right?”

I nodded. I had tried throwing them, but they were close to two pounds in Terran gravity - worse in Von-standard, and obviously front-heavy.

“So, to throw them that fast, Jokul has to have a lot of arm strength, right?”

Another nod.

“How did Charly get up after he punched her?”

I sighed. I’d wondered where he was going with this. “First, he pulled the punch. Second, it was an awkward hit because he was aiming for me. Third, with two cracked ribs and a whole lot of ‘Charly’ involved.”

“So necromancy,” Maverick nodded seriously.

“I can neither confirm nor deny, except that she popped up like he hit her with a pillow.” I shook his knee as something caught my eye. “There! There he is!”

Conor was finally visible, crouched and in discussion with Tyche. From the way he was running his hand through his hair, he was clearly nervous. She just shook her finger at him with a serious expression, and whatever she said made him laugh and shake his head. Probably a death threat, I figured.

He was just in time, as the next exhibition was knife-throwing. I don’t know if Evan was rigging the lots, but once again the most anticipated participant - this time Tyche - was last. Instead, someone I recognized as Michael Smith was first. Standing from beside Grandma Kim, he gave an emphatic command to the chocolate labradoodle at his feet and took center stage.

The knife throwing event was ten knives, one target, and timed as well as scored by where the knives landed. I knew from previous events that Michael preferred throwing knives with a hilt, which made the balance off center. Nonetheless, all his hits were dead-center and solid, even if he telegraphed his throws a bit much for my liking.

Next was Arthur, who made a show of his one-upmanship by finishing faster and with less obvious movement. He patted Conor on the shoulder and said something to reassure him as Conor stood for his turn.

The crowd started murmuring as Conor turned toward his target, back on full display. Rather than pulling his knives from his hip, or picking them up from a table, Conor had found it easier for him to actually keep them slung across his shoulders and drew them like arrows. I had never seen anything like it, but Coffey had suggested it soon after Conor decided to follow mine and Tyche’s footsteps. And while his display wasn’t the fastest, or the most accurate, he drew some fascinated chatter from the crowd when switched hands after the fifth knife, with no change in speed or precision.

When he finished, there was enthusiastic applause but none louder than our family. Coffey’s voice boomed out, even louder than mine, to congratulate him before they traded places. Once again, there was hushed chatter as Coffey drew over his shoulder, this time trading off hands with every single knife, and breathless applause when he finished with a tighter cluster than Conor had. He smiled, but his eyes were all for Charly, who was next.

The crowd hardly had time to focus before she started letting blades loose. As fast as she could grab one, it was flying behind the last one, covering the bullseye by the time she was done. With a flourish, she took a bow that left us all laughing and cheering. She danced over to the sidelines, sweeping one more bow for Tyche to take the floor.

As soon as Tyche stood, the air crackled with excitement. In the same way that everyone watched the axe-throwing to see Jokul, all eyes were on my sister for this event. As though she was utterly oblivious to this fact, she strode to her marker. She was still mid-stride when she brushed her hair out of her face and let the first knife fly from the same hand.

Bullseye.

Brushing off her legs saw two more knives, one after the other, hitting their marks. Then a dagger from her left hip, a tactical knife from one boot, and on and on. Each blade came from a different spot, no two the same size or shape. All hit their marks, and all without a single indication of exertion. The only indication that she finished was when she dropped her hands and tilted her head, studying the tight pattern on the target. My datapad indicated that she had matched Arthur’s time and close strikes.

When she turned to sit back down, everyone’s brains caught up and the expected cheers deafened us again. As soon as she reached her seat, Arthur and Charly stood by some unspoken agreement and made ridiculous sweeping bows to her, only encouraging the audience to cheer harder.

Evania stepped forward again, to let everyone know that there would be a twenty minute intercession. The next events needed more intensive preparation, which allowed friends and family to take some time to talk with the participants. Sure enough, the second I was in earshot, I could hear Tyche complaining.

“I got much tighter patterns than that in practice,” she moaned.

Conor, head resting on both hands, shook his head in disbelief. “If you think you were bad, I feel I’m hopeless.”

That had the exact reaction everyone saw coming, as she whirled around in righteous fury. “Conor MacMaoilir-Reid-Okima, I have been throwing any knife I could get my grubby paws on since I was four. You started three years ago. I taught you, Sophia taught you, Coffey taught you. Your throwing has an exceptional pedigree and if I hear you talk about giving up, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Let me use you for target practice,” Arthur intoned, half-joking.

“No!” she insisted. “I’ll let Simon use you for target practice!”

“I’d be safe as houses, if he was aiming for me. Poor guy couldn’t hit the floor with a knife if he dropped it.”

“She never said with knives,” I added wickedly, causing his head to snap up and his face to pale.

“Sophie. Please, that’s cruel.”

I waved him off. “Oh, as if he would ever actually aim for you. If Simon had to hunt for his food, he’d be a vegetarian, I swear.”

Rolling his eyes, Maverick stepped into the fray. “Conor, you did really well. You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. And it’s not like this is a competition, you were literally invited to just show off what you can do.”

“I still don’t know why… Coff over there clearly did better.”

A dazzling smile flashed as Coffey turned from his conversation with Charly. “Ah, but we are the only two who use that technique! Showing it off here means others may be interested in learning later.”

Hair flew as Charly nodded. “And besides, I could never get the hang of pulling a knife like that. My brain says ‘arrow’, and it’s just confusing.”

I was nodding in agreement and gesturing for Maverick to take Arthur’s seat, when something wet nudged my ankle.

“Sparkles. Heel.”

I turned to see Michael Smith and Grandma Kim had joined us. Unable to resist, I knelt to pet the dogs that accompanied them. “GK, Lyric II is looking more and more like her mom every day.” A muzzle streaked with white fur poked my hand. “Hey there, girl,” I whispered, blinking hard. Lyric was already ten when we were all brought to the Ark, and Hujylsogox medicine could only do so much for dogs. Permission had been given for her to have one pup, to be trained as both a service and a protection animal, in preparation.

Michael’s animal looked to him for permission before joining in the ear scratches I was dishing out. He was one of the very few certified service animal trainers on the Ark, so when Lyric II was born, so was Sparkles, with the intention that they grow up and train as a working team. Michael’s past was extremely blank and sketchy, but something about him reminded me of both Arthur and Xiomara. The fact that both of them respected him made me both at ease and suspicious at the same time.

I pushed that out of my mind and focused on the pile of fur before me, begging for belly rubs. “What events are left?”

“The security animal events have been added to this one, to allow time for the other participants to rest more, and then archery, spear/javelin, and thrown projectiles.”

I shook my head at ‘thrown projectiles’, but Charly was the one to speak. “I can’t believe we made a sport out of rock throwing.” When mouths started to open to correct her, she held up both hands and glared. “I mean ‘we’ like ‘people’, not ‘we’ like ‘the Ark’. I am well aware that humans have been killing things by throwing rocks forever. Don’t shoot me.”

“That’s a different exhibition,” Maverick pointed out, eliciting a groan from several people. “What!? It is!”

“I think she would beg to differ.” Tyche pointed to Charly, who looked like she was about to explode.

“Oh, right. Archery - “

“You are IN that event, how could you forget!?” she finally erupted, more out of confusion than anything resembling anger.

“I learned firearms first?” he begged.

Charly grunted and scrunched her face. “Fine. I can accept that as a semi-reasonable excuse.”

I shook my head at their antics. Despite years of watching the two goof around, it was always adorable to watch men twice her size cower from the feisty ball of energy.

She was still teasing him. “I still think you owe me an apology.”

“Charly, I’m sorry,” he sighed with no real sincerity behind it.

“Mmmm, not good enough.” She tapped her chin with her finger and took out an eye-scorchingly yellow candy bar - which, by now I knew was just chocolate and caramel, but was still cringeworthy to watch. “I think…. You should make me dumplings.”

“Those take forever,” he whined, kneeling and clasping his hands. “You always want them from scratch.”

“They taste better from scratch,” she pointed out around a bite of her snack.

Tyche nodded. “They really do.”

And there it was. He was defeated, as our entire family stared at him in anticipation. With a heavy air, he hung his head. “Fine,” came the mumbled reply. “What kind?”

Quiet cheers sounded, along with fist bumps and in one case money exchanging hands. “Chicken and veg, pork and veg, and seafood,” Charly cackled.

I was pretty sure I was the only one who could hear Maverick mutter “I just got so played…”

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans will try anything #humans are space orcs #weapons #skill #service animals #found family #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #science fiction #sci fi #scifi #original science fiction #original sci fi #hfy

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darkcomesoon · 4 years

Text

So, I wrote this little thing because I am going to combust if we don’t have Beau and Yasha talking alone soon. This scene wouldn’t leave me alone the entire day so I had to write it down. Mind you, this is my first time ever writing fanfic, so I have no idea if this is going to be good, also English is not my first language so I’m aware there must be some mistakes here and there. Hope someone other than me enjoys it.

They were on a hill in the middle of a forest covered in snow and the sun was going down. Jester and Yasha managed to clear a good amount of the snow covering a big rock they found, right by the edge of the mountain with a good visibility to the rest of the forest. It was going to be tight but it was either that or sleeping on the cold wet snow on the ground since Caleb couldn’t create the tower today.

Ten minutes pass and Caleb finishes casting the spell to create the dome over the rock and one by one they enter the security of the bubble. Even though the dome gave them a lot more comfort and safety, they still needed to take watch to make sure whatever was hunting down in those parts of the forest stayed away.

First shift is taken by Caleb and Veth, Jester and Caduceus take the second watch. When the third shift comes, Jester, who had made sure Yasha and Beau took their shift together, wakes Yasha up and whispers in her ear “this is it, do something”, to which the response is simply a slow and sleepy growl.

When Yasha gets up, Beau is already sitting on the edge of the rock looking out the mountains. She stops for a moment, taking in the view of Beauregard with the white forest background. She tries to be a little stealthy but ends up kicking a little pebble directly into Beau’s tight, making the monk jump up a little bit. Beau turns around to find Yasha looking at her with an apologetic expression.

“oh shit, sorry”

Beau instantly opens a little smile, disregarding the pebble completely.

“Hey… Want to…”

She points to the spot next to her on the edge of the rock. Yasha lets a little “oh” escape her lips as she nods lightly at the question. She sits as they exchange a smile and an awkward laugh.

Both of them look over the mountains in silence, nervousness consuming the air. Yasha opens her mouth and takes in some breath as if she’s going to say something but her mind stops her. Two, three times, and on the forth try she manages to turn her head to look at Beau, who looks back at her. Without a word, Yasha awkwardly extends her arm to the side, behind Beau’s back but not touching her. She holds open her coat and gives a shy little smile.

“Wanna… you know… huddle for warmth?”

Yasha looks a little bit incredulous of what she’s said, but not as much as she looks proud. Beau gets the callback from the first time they took watch together and opens a big smile, admiring the gentle barbarian.

“Oh… I mean, yeah sure” She shrugs a little bit.

Yasha imitates Beau’s smile and waits for her to move in closer and as soon as she does, Yasha wraps her arm around Beau’s shoulder, covering her with her coat. Beau snuggles slightly on the side of Yasha’s body, her face turning a little red from blushing. She waits for a moment in silence before turning her head to the side and a little up to look directly at Yasha.

“So... we never actually talked after… you know, Molly’s grave.”

Yasha just presses her lips waiting for the question she knew was coming. Beau continues.

“I… I wanted to talk to you but I couldn’t really find the moment. I…”

“I’m ok, Beau” Yasha interrupts softly “I’m doing better, you know? I feel weird about all of this but I’m good.”

Beau holds in a smile.

“oh, ok? I, I know you are ok, I mean, you are the strongest of all of us, physically and mentally. That’s not actually what I was going to ask.”

Yasha gives Beau a confused look.

“That’s… I wouldn’t quite say mentally, after all I am the easiest to get, you know” she points at her own head and bobs it a little bit, making a funny face. A short snort leaves Beau’s lips as she laughs softly at Yasha.

“No, I don’t mean like that. And we do need to get you something for that” She also points at Yasha’s head “but I mean, look at everything you’ve been through. After so many people messing with your head you’re still here, and you’re getting better each day. Like, it takes a lot of fortitude and a strong mind to get out of where you were before. You are stronger than you think, Yasha.”

Yasha looks down, a semblance of a smile on her face as she contemplates every word that was just said to her. Beau waits for her response, knowing Yasha likes to pick her exact words every time she speaks.

“I… Thank you, Beau”

“Well, it’s the truth” Beau shrugs.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me then? About Molly?”

Beau turns her head to look away from Yasha and takes a deep breath.

“Yeah… I…Do you think he’s Molly still?

Yasha takes her time thinking about the question, looking over the mountains.

“I think… I wanted it to be him” She looks at Beau with sadness. “I really miss him… But it’s so weird… he… he left his coat. And I think if it were Molly, wouldn’t he have come for us by now? I mean, wouldn’t we have heard something from him?” Yasha lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know, really.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think he’s still Molly?”

Beau hesitates, not wanting to say it out loud but Yasha gives her an expectant look.

“I think we are on the same page here, I… Everything points to him not being Molly anymore and I think that would be easier, actually” Beau’s expression hardens. “But I honestly don’t know what to do if it ends up he was Molly all this time.”

Yasha doesn’t respond, she just tightens the grip of her arm around Beau’s shoulder, bringing her even closer.

They sit there in silence for a little while, contemplating the journey ahead of them and the beauty of the place. Slowly the sun starts to show its colors behind the mountains and illuminate the forest, they should wake their friends soon. But before their watch is over, Beau breaks the silence.

“Fuck me. This place may be creepy as hell but it does have its beauty.”

Yasha lets out a small laugh and looks softly at Beau. “Yeah, I think there’s beauty everywhere, you just gotta know where to look at.”

Beau looks back at Yasha, a small breath leaving her mouth and a coy smile on her face.

“You’re right.” She laughs “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Caduceus, tho.”

Yasha laughs at the response, a hearty laugh that makes Beau look a little proud of getting that reaction.

“Yeah, I have… He’s a cool guy”

“He is”

“And he gives the best advice”

“Oh, yeah?” Beau looks amused “What kind of advice has he been giving you?”

“Hmm… Just about some things I’ve been struggling with. I… I have some things I want to say to someone and I don’t quite know how to do it” Yasha’s cheeks are red and she looks a little more nervous now “So he told me to not be too patient, not wait too much to say it, you know? Not think I have more time than I actually do.”

“Damn, that’s good advice. And he’s right, you know?”

Yasha smiles “He is”

“So… are you?”

Yasha gives Beau a questioning look.

“Are you going to say the things you want to say?”

Yasha takes a deep breath and looks away from Beau.

“I… I’m working on it” She looks back at Beau “Definitely getting closer”

Beau smiles softly and gives Yasha a proud look.

“Good, I want to hear it someday”

They exchange a knowing look, filled with admiration and tenderness. As the sun rises, they stay there hugging on the cold white forest, waiting for another day to start.

#beauyasha #cracklepop #yasha nydoorin #beauregard lionett #critical role #fic #why is it that writing things on the internet makes me so nervous?#good fuck there's no need for me to be anxious about this

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