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janumun · 3 years

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The Pirate's Symbol(s): NSFW Alphabet [IkeSen Motonari]

Game: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Motonari/Female Reader

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 2.5k

Warnings: stockings fetish, spoilers for Motonari’s ‘condition’, sexual intercourse, mentions of exhibitionism/semi-public sex, (non-sexual) bondage, innuendoes and dirty-talk, masturbation

Author’s Notes: Motonari’s entire self is a joy, his route gave me some much needed, invigorating enemies-to-lovers, and I officially love him! [Totally swiped my heart right up without warning!]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Motonari is quick — you’d almost say adept — at sweeping off a cloth, or container, placed by your bedside. Although, your touch and whatever fire you generate in between the two of you does not bother him, he does prefer you both cleaner of the mess and fluids when holding you close in his arms, afterwards.

Wiping up the remnants of your passionate and, often vigorous, activities off of quivering thighs he presses apart, in gentle strokes of damp fibers. Movements of the cloth soft enough it doesn’t shock you into over-sensitivity but not soft enough you relax entirely beneath him, because that scarlet gaze is always fixated on you — your body language. And if you give away even an inch, he’s ready and up for round two (or four). [Bless yer stamina, matey!]

If not, he’s still up and happy to listen to his favorite flower-brained woman’s amusing, outrageous tales she narrates in animated conversation. While he whisks up a quick, invigorating meal for her at the kitchen counter, just as she rests her happy self at the table. Garnet gaze seemingly fixated upon the task at hand — spices being tossed, ladle being stirred, eggs whipped to perfection — but his answers are prompt and alert, although still carrying that insouciant edge. Indicating his attention; equal division in between feeding you and hearing you speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Motonari is fond of his mouth, and before you, he didn’t think of it as much of an achievement as he believes it now, when your jittery gaze seeks immediate relief (and lust) as soon as it lands upon that obvious smirk.

A single kiss and your thoughts are all but handed over to him on an elaborate platter. Your cheeks color dark and wide; restless eyes tracing across his mouth. Your own parting; pink tongue darting quick in a swipe across plush lips: all of you demanding more of him.

Yes, he is surprisingly (or not), in touch with a far more emotional side: Motonari adores your eyes, although you’re never hearing it from him. Your entire body speaks of honesty but the way he reads your thoughts so easy, in your gaze, there’s quite nothing as exhilarating or confounding as the love he captures in them. That quick, tight knot of your brow, your anger flaring in your eyes or the equally prompt melting, when he appeases you in gentle teases. He’s been so long used to not trusting that a person he sees this clearly through, and sees how she trusts; it’s not an entirely terrible thing to feel.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As mentioned above, the man doesn’t particularly care to leave you a mess post-coitus unless you ask it of him; there is little he’s able to refuse you. So when it does come (…heh) to cumming outside of your pussy, your mouth is a pretty (very pretty too) good substitute for him to ejaculate, without having to think of leaving external stains on you. Your throat clamping, then swallowing, around his orgasm, so he feels that slick slide of saliva and semen around him, as you moan.

Yer pretty darn hot, m’lady.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he descends — quick and furious — into an almost juvenile state of petty jealousy [he realizes the immaturity of it, he just cannot! help! it!] and ends up turning that lust on you, instead.

He’d never actually do it but visualizing — in almost exact, murderous details — how he’d like to drag you into an empty room whenever Kicho gets all up in your face, and fuck you so hard your throat tears through screams lough enough Kicho hears each and every single sound and moan.

Or, clasp your chin in his fingers, whenever Hideyoshi’s a little too close for comfort at an Oda banquet, and kiss you senseless and noisy [pirates crave a flashy exhibition!].

He despises making a show of you to anybody, so that idea only stays in thoughts but also it’s mind-boggling, since it does get him hard on the spot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, it was only ever through terrible necessity (extremely dire straits) that he — if ever and very sparing — sought casual sex. The occasions hadn’t been plenty and he’d be frighteningly specific about how he wanted to take a woman to bed.

Bathed, no make-up, no perfume, no scented products or jewelry — anything extra that he could accidentally touch and trigger a reaction. A clean, unscented futon he’d provide in a bare room. Any bonds or cloths he could get his hands on (buying his own and discarding immediately after), to tie their limbs, keep their movements limited; Motonari used.

Of course, there’d be the rare prostitute who’d drop immediately after visiting a client, or one who’d perceive his conditions extreme and over-the-top and think they could ‘change his mind’. The moment they’d try and cross the line, he’d fling them off, almost violently, heart racing, sweat marking each inch of exposed skin. Nauseous and barely tapped, before he’d stride out of the room.

He’s also witnessed open and perverse brothels — and corrupt seething dens — where men and women fuck, for all to see, in his line of work, so he’s no stranger to how sex works for others either.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s learning to let go and touch (just you) without the added barrier of gloves and since you so seem fond of his hands on you, Motonari likes any positions that allow his hands to move your body upon his; he isn’t picky.

Palms curved upon your hips so that your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he pulls back, the movements of his cock into and out of your pussy — a place you are both connected and he likes that. Or even when he can spread your thighs wide, press them apart before hooking his hands over your abdomen and just focusing on moving.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pirate he’s a vortex of a man and slips all over the spectrum. Motonari’s goading is far softened with minimum barbs, when he’s in(side you) in bed with you. More velvet — than leathery — questions, soft smirk-y and probing,: “Ya like that, flower girl?” —as his mouth hovers just close to your ear, nose barely touching and tucking sweat soaked strands away from your temple. Definitely lands firm and midway between too serious and entirely silly. But he’s all focus on you, make no mistake.

He’s still got a filthy mouth on him, but dirty romantic liners are more his style, in bed (he wants you warmed as well as turned on!), in contrast to the complete indecent filth he threatens you with (a good time!) when the two of you are out and about.

“Pipe down, m’lady. The way yer moaning, they’re gonna think I’m fucking ya, right on deck.” Those eyes are burnished rubies; smile wide, crooked and unashamed, as he ducks close. “But maybe ya feel like putting on a show.”

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean down below (and silver-haired, yes) — he doesn’t go the ‘complete waxed up, no-hair in sight’ route, but rather prefers keeping his hair short-trimmed and well-groomed.

He’s also kept his pubic hair short and neat, for the rare occasions he does have sex, and an unkempt mass down there would leave him more likely and exposed to his partner’s fluids staying on him. He despises that.

Motonari doesn’t mind blood, dirt and grime on the field, nor the brine of the harsh sea sticking to his skin, but as soon as he’s done with — or in between — jobs, he takes the time to wash and clean himself up thoroughly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

[Also see G=Goofy] Motonari isn’t short with words of love. He isn’t reciting romantic poems but he is quick to let you know, in exact words, how much he loves you — and is loving being inside you — in the moment. Barriers definitely lower themselves — not all down, not completely back up — with this man, in bed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

(As also mentioned in E=Experience) the man, previously, has sought intimacy only and only out of desperate necessity and when his hand is just not enough for him to relieve himself of his lust. Motonari, before you, jacked off, multiple times within a week, sometimes thrice (or more) in a single day. His desires, usually amped, following a particularly unsatisfying battle or raid.

After you, he still does take time off for some self-lovin’ (remember: stamina for daaays, and you’re mostly unable to match him so he makes do), just not as much as he used to, in the past.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You and Motonari share a love for (clothing) imports from the seas beyond. He’s always up for sharing and discussing trade secrets, doling out clothing advice and helping you work out modern clothing from whatever fabrics are available to you.

Stockings might be one of his favorite products.

The fabric feeling absolutely exquisite against his palms when he rounds you close into his grasp, stood in between his spread thighs as he observes and hums beneath you, seated. A harmless joke you make, about a stocking fetish and the ensuing explanation soon after, has him grinning and dragging you down to test the material against his teeth.

“Yer sayin’ I got a thing for yer fancy underclothes? Heh, don’t think so. Seeing you in it just makes me wanna tear it all off, meu docinho de côco.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you’re afforded privacy; although a little flirting with danger is good and being pinned in between the door and his body. Watching you try and smother your moans into your sleeves, skews that grin wider, that cock harder.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. He’s got a dirty mind, it’ll do the rest of the work when its got its catalyst: you.

Nothing gets you results faster than being honest with Motonari, or expressing your affections (even chaste) for him.

Tell him he looked especially handsome, earlier on a job out: with his hair slicked back and how hard it was for you to have held back from kissing him, on the spot. That you love him—

He’s on you so fast.

“That brain’s just gotta keep sprouting its flowers, huh.” He murmurs, tugging at your chin to swipe his tongue into you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his treatment of you very early on in his route (the collar, the slavery deal), Motonari’s not into putting a collar on a person, romantic or otherwise. Collaring and hearing you call him your Master wouldn’t do much for him, playful or not.

He’s had to live a great chunk of his life as the Beggar Prince; experienced the devastating dregs of human society, including and not limited to being treated as one inferior, and having to watch people around at the very mercy of corrupt lords.

In retrospect, it isn’t something he might take pleasure in, in the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving or receiving, both take some getting used to within the bedroom. He finds the taste of you pleasant, when he withdraws wet digits from inside you and takes a careful swipe of the clear fluid across his skin. And has expressed interest in, and gone down on you several times.

Receiving gets a bit more gentle coax-y and requires reassurances, with Motonari. He doesn’t particularly like seeing his release all over you. Having to work through those barriers of his mind, but once he allows you, he does enjoy the slow kisses, and the soft slide of your mouth against him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default setting is rough and furious. The two of you are usually frustrated passion by the time you actually get to his bedroom (he likes to prod and poke much too often in public, get you riled) so there’s only one way to go and it’s up. He’s spreading your thighs apart with none too gentle hands as he pushes through and into you, your own hold on him, white knuckled and almost delirious with the way his hips rock into you and his cockhead scraps across your front wall with his onslaught.

At times, however, especially after a high-risk mission; when he’s been close enough to stare Death in the face and survive, he likes to take his time being inside you, just being able to feel you. Once, twice, several times, he’s keeping you beneath, or mounted on top of him, coaxing your hips and your moans.

“Don’t look at me like that, flower girl. I’m alive, ain’t I? Com’ere. I’ll take those tears of yers.”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Definitely! Any time he can have you, or get you close enough in private, you’re going to be fucking each other. He loves those little breathy, moan-laughters you make in half-panic/all arousal, each time he drives up to grind your hips close together, stuffed into a hallway closet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Semi-public quickies are a thing and the closest to risky as he gets. As mentioned previously, he’s demanding enough over you, he doesn’t like men Kicho touching you, let alone hearing you when you sound like that.

Other kinks, most kinks, he’s down to try with his favorite dirty, flower-brained woman. He does however, draw the line at any kinks that might involve him using harsh, ugly words to degrade you or your body and/or being soiled.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

All I gotta say is: Pirate’s got stamina enough to power his ships through horn alone, over an entire week!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys translate to external objects. Which are always subject to germs, and need to be (excessively) cleaned by his standards, to keep them useful and usable. That’s far much more work than he’s usually willing to commit himself to.

And he has no need of them. Not when you respond plenty to his touch alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot! Motonari’s brand of filthy talk is polished to leave you damp in between the legs. He’s pulling the nastiest most wonderful innuendoes out of the most mundane of tasks.

“Ya like that old weapon?” He might ask of you, as you admire the carvings upon the handle of one of his clan’s katana. “Didn’t know ya liked the feel of handlin’ a sword between yer hands that much, m’lady.”

Leaving your mind reeling and cheeks flushing before withdrawing with a, “What’re ya cooking in that flower brain of yers? Heh... you’ve got a dirty mind.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heavy, sensual pants against your ears. His groans and grunts enough to fan the fires of your own arousal, to have you ready to come, from just the sounds that can leave his throat. Motonari doesn’t care to be heard outside your boundaries, but he also doesn’t care to withhold his own sounds of pleasure from you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He almost swears (but will never tell you, in very direct words): the space in between your bare breasts smells almost sweet like flowers. He likes finding his way up and nosing in between your breasts — just skin-to-skin contact at a place he finds you’re at your most fragrant. Suckling and tugging at a nipple draws those moans and your scent more intense, so he nips and teeths around the place often.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

That beautiful cock — with the evidence of just enough silver at the base — is long enough it fits and curves snug into you, without entering into any discomforting places, deep. But he is thick enough, it takes you time (and many times) to not just hold your breath and tighten up around him on reflex, upon entry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

(Read: S)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re almost always the one falling asleep first. Pirates are used to night raids and this one’s no different. He does prefer watching you sleep, late into the night, once you fall exhausted into slumber.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

#ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #ikesen mouri motonari #ikesen motonari smut #ikesen smut #ikemen sengoku smut #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen motonari x reader #ns//fw text #a pickle writes

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Ooh okay i might have figured something out!(this is kind of related to that ask before! So it’s the reader but before the first kiss and everything. )

How about Since Rambo has to fix everything back up in his home and ranch, what about the reader showing up and helping him do so- and asking the man on a date at their own Home? How do you think(headcanon or story wise either way) that date and day would go down?

I feel he’d be very kind of, nervous. But the reader would be very excited and adore him, and i think if would be very cute to see rambo flustered because the reader keeps reminding them how cool they think he is, and how excited they are to see him around more. (Basically just the first date AT the readers ranch home. You decorate or design it to look however you want!!)

Thank you!! And if not, thats fine. (I just crave a good cozy date with old rambo that preferably ends in smooches and him staying over)

Dude, your asks are giving me life at this point! I hope you like this as much as I enjoyed writing it!😊💛❤

I Admire You More.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of death

Masterlist

The sun already feels harsh as it beats down on John's back, his body drenched in sweat from the nearly unbearable heat of it, allowing dust and dirt to stick to him in some places as he hauls timber around the place. Doggedly, he ignores the discomfort of his shirt sticking to his back, focusing instead on getting the heavy materials to the place where he needs them, his muscles straining from the exertion. His hands are somewhat grazed from the rough wood, calluses lining his palms from his years and years of work, each one telling a different story of how they came to be.

Emerging around the front of the house, John drops his load, grunting with relief as the planks clatter against each other, his arms glad to be free of their burden. Stretching out his back, the veteran glances over at the veranda, where the floor has completely rotted away - he'd been meaning to fix that for a few days now, but necessities like water, electricity and gas had to come first, even if he didn't actually have a bedroom or anywhere totally safe to sleep yet. Having now found time between laying tiles on the roof, which he had tried and found incredibly difficult, John intends to address the problem, so he no longer has to worry about breaking his ankles every time he tries to get in the house.

Sighing, he moves to the frame of the veranda, taking up a hammer and crowbar as he gets to work pulling up the rotted planks already there, grimacing at the sight of the foundations underneath. Even in the slight shade provided by the roof over him, he finds himself heated far too much, beads of sweat rolling down his back with each movement, though he doesn't pay them any mind until a familiar shout pulls him from his thoughts.

Looking up, he has to bite back a smile as he sees his new friend, (Y/n), riding up the driveway towards him, a broad grin on their face as usual, a hand raised in greeting. Acknowledging them, John lifts his own hand, flicking dark hair from his eyes as he watches the young rancher pull their horse to a halt, the animal instantly responding to their instruction. Once stopped, (Y/n) climbs down, leading the horse behind them as they come nearer to John, still smiling at him as he puts on the most approachable expression he can, still a little uncomfortable about smiling freely at people.

"Mornin' John! How're you doing?" They call out, flicking their Stetson back from over their eyes, a habit he's noticed they do frequently.

"Not bad." He responds, knowing his gruff voice doesn't sound too friendly, though he does try. He likes (Y/n), a lot, and wants the friendship to work out properly, despite the fact he's already managed to develop feelings he thought he'd lost the ability to have for them.

As they grin back at him, he feels a small flare of fondness go through him as he recognises the youthfulness in the expression, a need to protect that near-innocence accompanying it.

"Good, good! What're you up to today? I see you managed to fix the wall up." They remark, gesturing to the patched panelling to his left, where a large hole had appeared in the wall.

"Just fixing the veranda here." He explains, using the hammer to show them what he means, "Yeah, I managed to finish the wall up at some point yesterday."

"Looks good. The wall and the veranda, that is. Is it gonna be a tough job?" They question, head tilting to the side curiously.

"Shouldn't be, but this heat ain't gonna help." John replies, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

They're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering something. Coming to a conclusion, they open their mouth to speak.

"Do you want any help? I'm quite handy with a hammer and nail." They offer, looking somewhat tentative.

Now it's John's turn to stay quiet, his dark eyes fixing the younger person in place as he regards them, thinking it over.

"Some help would be nice, thanks." He finally concedes, going over to them to help with the horse, which he lets loose into the nearby field with his other.

The smile returns to its place on their face as they follow him back to the veranda, taking up the hammer he offers them, waiting for his instruction as they approach.

"Just pull up the old boards for now and leave them over there." John instructs them, an odd sensation he hasn't felt in years swelling in his throat as they attentively watch him, following his every move with a look of pure admiration.

"Got it." They nod, moving to a corner to do as they're told, instantly crouching down by a loose plank. With a sharp movement, they jam the hook of the hammer underneath a loose edge, the wood creaking quietly as it is forced out of its original position, nails pulling from rotted beams with some ease. Under their T-shirt, John can see (Y/n)'s arms tensing with each jerk of the hammer, his throat feeling tight as he swallows, mentally reprimanding himself for the unbidden longing that springs to his mind.

Shaking his head, he gets down to work, the two now lapsing into a comfortable silence as they tear up the boards together. The going is faster than he thought it would be, both he and (Y/n) meeting somewhere in the middle of the frame after only an hour of working tirelessly, their brow now coated in a sheen of sweat, just as his is. Their arms are doused in a layer of dust and dirt, smears of grime adorning their forehead from where they've wiped their hand over the damp skin. John once again has to bite back his smile at the sight of the young rancher looking somewhat dishevelled after only an hour of work, the corners of his lips quirking up slightly.

"What? What is it?" (Y/n) interrupts his thoughts, their expression mildly concerned.

"Oh, err, you have a little dirt on your forehead." He clarifies, gesturing to the correlating spot on his own head.

"Oh, whoops." They laugh, lifting a hand to rub at the marks, only making them worse.

"You've made 'em bigger, now." John chuckles, unable to stop himself as he feels a smile cross his face at his friend's antics.

Noticing the change in mood for him, (Y/n) makes a point of wiping their hand more deliberately over the dirt, leaving long striping marks over their skin.

"Maybe that was the point." They grin back, striking a brief pose.

Laughing softly again, John rolls his eyes and shakes his head, the veteran starting to feel a lot more relaxed as (Y/n)'s cheerful demeanour rubs off on him.

"If you say so, Tiger." He comments, briefly moving to grab a nearby cloth that he had placed out exactly for the reason that it is now needed, "C'mere."

Ignoring the butterflies in their stomach from John's clearly more laid-back mood, (Y/n) steps closer to their friend, taking the proffered cloth from him. Wiping it over their forehead, they pull it away again after a moment, looking up to him for reassurance that they got it all.

"You missed a spot." He points out, amused.

Repeating their actions, they once again return their gaze to his, curious. He only shakes his head, taking the cloth from them. Without thinking about what he's doing, John leans in and presses it to their brow, gently rubbing away the stubborn mark, somehow managing to miss the way their eyes widen in surprise. They have to consciously hold themselves back as they go to follow his hand as it withdraws, having enjoyed the older man's touch much more than they should've.

"There, now you're all clean again." John murmurs, eyes flicking back down to theirs.

With a small smile, (Y/n) thanks him, ducking their head down to avoid letting him see the blush dusting their cheeks.

"How'd you wanna do this decking, then?" They ask him after a moment, looking to the pile of timber nearby.

"I'll show you what I had in mind." He says, leading them over to the wood, mentally cursing himself now for being so personal with them, unaware of their true reaction to his actions.

The day passes somewhat quickly, the two working tirelessly to get the veranda as complete as possible. As the time goes on, the sun only gets hotter, leaving them both drenched in sweat and dirt until around five, when the temperature finally starts to drop a little. Having only stopped briefly to eat some cookies that (Y/n) brought with them, the two find themselves incredibly hungry as they finally come to a halt, muscles aching under sun-warmed skin, in dire need of something to drink and a shower. Taking note of his friend's somewhat worse state, John finally stops, putting down his hammer as he pushes his slick hair from his face.

"We should call it a day, we've done enough for now." He says, watching as (Y/n) straightens and stretches before turning to face him, briefly revealing a strip of skin on their abdomen to him as their shirt rides up.

"Sounds good to me." They respond, sounding a little breathless as they crack their knuckles, flexing their wrists.

They seem to consider something, head tilting to the side as they pick their Stetson up from the step they left it on, having taken it off when it got too hot for them. A conflicted look crosses their face, before they seem to shake it off, as if steeling themself.

"Would you, err, would you like to come to mine for drinks?" They ask him, rubbing the back of their neck sheepishly, "You don't have to, I just think it might be, err, nice, seeing as I like your company, and we're both on our own. I have food, too, but you don't have to eat or anything…"

(Y/n)'s voice trails off at John's expression, the veteran somewhat surprised by the offer.

"You like my company?" Is all he manages, eyebrows lifting.

"Yeah, I do!"

"But...why?" He asks, confused.

"Because you're always friendly, you don't mind listening to me, I hope, anyway. You're kind, caring, funny when you want to be, you're cool as hell and you're really smart, too! I feel safe when I'm around you." (Y/n) gushes, only to slow towards the end when they realise they've gone on a bit, face turning red, "Sorry."

"No, no, don't be." John says, stunned by the compliments, unused to receiving friendly comments like that.

"But yeah, I like your company, and I'd like if we could talk a bit more over drinks or something." His friend explains, looking hopeful.

The veteran finds himself rendered speechless for a long moment, his heart screaming at him to go to (Y/n)'s, to further their relationship, but his brain is telling him no, so he doesn't mess up what they've already got. Internally, he weighs up the options, regarding the younger rancher as they wait patiently for his response. Eventually, it's that that makes his decision for him, the older man knowing that his friend will always be patient with him.

"I'll take you up on the offer." He finally says, unable to help the small smile that creeps onto his face as a wide grin splits (Y/n)'s, their gaze lighting up in happiness.

"You will? That's great! I'll go get stuff ready." They reply, body practically buzzing with excitement, only for them to glance back after a second, "Do you have a working shower, or do you wanna use mine? I don't mind if you do, I've got plenty of hot water."

"I don't wanna intrude that much…"

"You're not, don't worry." They reassure him, smiling.

"Ok, then I'll take the shower, too. Mine isn't working so well yet." He agrees, glad that he can finally have a good clean in a working shower.

"Ok, that's fine. Let me just catch Leo, then we can go." They say, heading off to the field, where their horse is grazing idly, having spent the entire day alone as John's other horse was taken inside the stable due to the heat being bad for its underweight body.

"Alright, let me just get some clean clothes." John nods.

Ten minutes later, the two reconvene, starting off on the walk over to (Y/n)'s ranch, the horse trotting quietly beside them as they talk amongst themselves, discussing the animal in question. It doesn't take long for them to reach the main house, (Y/n) briefly tying Leo up outside, saying something about putting him away again in a moment.

"Welcome to my home. Sorry it's a bit messy." They chuckle, opening the door for the veteran, allowing him inside.

It is messy, but the small room looks cosy, the somewhat cramped space giving him a familiar sense of comfort.

"I like it." He compliments, gruff voice soft.

"Thanks." (Y/n) smiles fondly as they look over the area, "The shower's just through here. Take as long as you need, I'm just gonna put Leo away. Oh, and get yourself a glass of water or something if you want it."

"I will do, thanks." The veteran watches as his friend leaves the house again, before he moves off into the shower, choosing to clean himself first, so he can get his racing thoughts in order.

It's been a long time since anyone showed him the kindness (Y/n) is now showing him, and it's started rubbing off on him, his feeling towards the young rancher steadily getting more and more affectionate. He admired them, their youthful vigour mixed with some past difficulties having combined to create a mature yet fun person, something that reminded him a little of himself when he first joined the Special Forces, all those years ago. They don't quite have the same innocence, but the optimistic view of the world and the people living in it have definitely started to chip away at the barriers around his heart, a defence he built up some time ago to prevent unnecessary pain, but he's not unhappy about it. He hopes they won't escalate, but he knows the friendship is helping him recover from decades of trauma.

Showering quickly but thoroughly, he changes into his clean clothes, before he goes back into the main room, where (Y/n) is waiting for him. Swapping with him, they smile as they go past, disappearing as he takes a seat on the sofa, enjoying the warmth of the room. It smells distinctly of his friend, and reassures him, settling the nerves racing through him. They only spike again when he hears (Y/n) come back into the room, his body tensing as he stands, unsure of what to do.

"You don't have to stand on my account." They chuckle, waving him back to the sofa as they go to the fridge and grab a couple of beers and some food, joining him and handing him a bottle.

Taking it, he waits for them to crack the cap off, taking a deep drink of it as he reaches for some food, the two of them simply eating at first, too hungry to talk much. The food doesn't last long, but it leaves them satiated, the beers soon replaced by more as they start to talk again, both much more relaxed now.

"Did your family always have the ranch?" He asks them, regarding his friend from his comfortable position on the sofa across from them, lidded eyes fixed on them.

"Yeah, it's been in the family as long as I can remember." (Y/n) replies, glancing around the lounge with a proud smile, "I've never left it."

"Really? Didn't you go to university?" John inquires, lifting an eyebrow in surprise.

"No, no. Never had time for it." They explain, biting their lip, "Always had the ranch to run."

John doesn't say anything, watching them closely as they seem to fade into their thoughts, clearly reliving a memory.

"My parents died the year before I was supposed to go. Left the ranch to me because my siblings left for New Orleans and some place in Kansas, so I had to forget about going to university." They reveal sadly, sipping their beer with a grim smile.

"I'm sorry." John says, frowning at the change in mood, having never really seen (Y/n) appear as dejected as they do now.

"Don't be, there was nothing anyone could've done. Besides, this has been the best thing that ever happened to me." They cast John a sideways glance, "I met you, after all."

Cocking his head to the side, John smiles gently, battling with the urges in his head.

"I'm sure your parents would be really proud of you." He murmurs, leaning over to clasp their shoulder lightly.

"Thank you, John." They smile back, their bottle forgotten now as they find their eyes fixed on his, getting themselves lost in their dark depths.

Somehow unable to pull back, John finds himself staring at (Y/n), his body sending him all kinds of urges, his hands practically itching to just wrap around their smaller body and-

Suddenly, a pair of lips are on his, tentatively pressing against them. What feels like electric shocks go through him at the unfamiliar touch, his eyes widening as he instinctively draws back, his body running on instinct, even as he instantly misses the sensation. Terrified eyes find his, horror etched into a face he's come to love and admire.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was doing, I fucked up, I'm so sorry!" (Y/n) instantly apologises, scrambling to pull out of his space, convinced they made things awkward, when John knows full well it was his own fault, "Please forgive me, John, please! I'm so sorry-"

"Don't apologise, (Y/n). You didn't do anything wrong. You just caught me by surprise, is all." John tries to reassure them, but they don't seem to hear it, only panicking more as they try to get up.

Knowing they won't listen to him now, John swallows, before he swiftly leans out, wrapping his hands around (Y/n)'s waist. They have split second to look surprised, until they find themselves being pulled onto the veteran's lap, lips connecting again.

This time, the touch is much more desperate, John pressing as close as he can, relishing in the contact as he feels his friend relax into his touch, melting against him as their hands slide round his neck into his hair, pulling his head closer. Groaning lowly, he uses his grip on their hips to press them flush together, kisses becoming more insistent as pleasure, relief and love fill him, his body feeling like it hasn't done in decades. He can feel them everywhere: their hands in his hair, their lips smoothing against his, their legs wrapping around his waist, their scent enveloping him as he kisses them. Under his palms, he can feel their muscles tensing and relaxing, the veteran hesitantly pushing his hands past the hem of their shirt to feel bare skin against bare skin, keeping them at their hips as they moan quietly. As the sound escapes them, their mouth opens slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue in, sliding in alongside theirs.

John presses closer, eventually pushing them back onto the sofa, (Y/n)'s body cradled underneath him as he continues to explore their mouth with his tongue. Breaking apart for air, they stare at each other, a familiar smile creeping onto their lips as they look up at him, love and adoration flooding their gaze. Gently, they card their fingers through his hair, taking one hand to trail their index finger along his cheek, tracing over the scar on his cheek, a fond look on their face.

"God, you have no idea how much I've dreamed about kissing you." They confess, voice quiet.

"You have?" He questions, his rough voice resonating through (Y/n) where their chests are touching.

"Yeah. I admire you so much, your bravery, your courage, your strength, both mentally and physically. You're too good to have been treated as poorly as you have been, and I've always wanted to show you that, but I never knew how." They murmur, cupping his face as he goes to look away, blushing, "It's true. You're a better person than I'll ever be, and you must've proved that hundreds of times. There's no one else I'd rather have as a friend, or even more than that if you'll have me."

Eyes wide, John doesn't know how to reply initially, his head spinning at what he's hearing, every fantasy he's ever had since he met his new friend suddenly flashing past his eyes in much higher clarity as he realises that they like him as much as he likes them - loves him as much as he loves them.

Unsure of how else to respond, John dips his head back down and connects their lips again, pouring all of his unspoken words across connection, feeling euphoric as he once again relishes in the knowledge that they are actually there, and it's not his imagination. Kissing back, (Y/n) smiles into his lips, pressing closer.

After a moment, John pulls away again, looking over (Y/n)'s face one last time before he drops down beside them, pulling their smaller body into his. Instinctively, they curl into him, hand resting on his chest as their face presses into his neck, smiling contentedly. Wrapping his arm around their waist, John holds them close to him, burying his face in their hair as they both feel fatigue starting to envelope them, pulling them both into a comfortable sleep. Just as they go to drift off, John whispers to (Y/n).

"You don't admire me nearly as much as I admire you. I love you. So much." His voice is husky, lulling them sleep.

For the first time in years, John does not jolt awake halfway through the night, his sleep undisturbed by nightmares.

#rambo imagine #rambo x reader #rambo #rambo 4 #rambo 5 #rambo last blood #john rambo x reader #John Rambo imagine

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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years

Text

Trouble-Maker

Request: Oh man, I'm sorry for the double ask in one day! But I adored the Superboy headcanons you wrote. May I sneak one of my own Prompts in for Wally? “How did you two meet?” “I punched him in the face and he said thank you” the reader being an ex-light member?

Requested by: @oneirataxxiaa

Also, never be afraid to double-request! I love your ideas!

You dodged Artemis’s arrows as you jumped from one part of the Cave to the next, as well as flicking back whatever birdarangs the Boy Wonder threw at you.

“Ah! Not cool, (Y/n)!” Robin growled as you threw one birdarang back to him, pinning his cape to the Cave wall.

You only laughed and as you were about to leap behind the couch, you suddenly felt yourself being levitated from the ground and quickly turned upside down. You gasped and looked into a pair of glowing green eyes who you immediately knew belonged to Miss Martian.

“Ah, so you’re the dame that put Psimon out of commission,” You mused, despite feeling the blood rushing to you’re head, “Honestly, you did me a favor.”

You then pressed a button on your utility belt, a high-pitched frequency began to play, one that made Miss Martian hiss in pain and made her hold her head in her hands, her attention too focused on the pain that you ended up falling to the ground with a ‘thud’.

“Ow,” You groaned as you rubbed your back.

“M’gann!” Superboy shouted as he bent down next to the red-haired martian. You quickly pressed the button again and the high-pitched noise ceased, leaving Miss Martian to blackout and fall into the raven-haired clones’ arms. You stood up a dusted yourself off, “Sorry ‘bout that but I kinda can’t afford to get turned over to the Justice League right now.”

Superboy glared at you, his azure eyes burning with a hellish rage, “I hope no one in The Light misses you too much, because I’m going to smash you to a pulp.”

You gulped and started to run off, dodging Aqualad’s water whips that hit Conner in the face, and felt relieved when you heard the Zeta-tube activate, alerting you that another person had entered.

“Skids, help!” You squeaked as you ducked behind Wally, hiding behind him like he was a shield. The red-haired male was confused, “(Y/n), what are you-”

Then he turned to see he was faced by an angry Artemis, Robin, Aqualad, and more importantly, Superboy. Wally blinked, everyone’s weapons were facing him but it only took him half a second before he realized that they were meant to attack you, not him.

He sighed before looking over his shoulder to look at you, “You really had stir everyone up, didn’t you?”

You shrugged, “I guess old habits die hard, Skids.”

Artemis frowned as she pulled her arrow back further, “Move out of the way, Wally.” “No, don’t move out of the way, Wally,” You responded, shrinking behind him. Wally only rolled his eyes but there was a fond smile on his face as he looked down at you, “Typical. Anyways, you guys, there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“We caught her trying to hack into the computers, she did something to M’gann, and she’s apart of The Light!” Superboy growled. Robin crossed his arms over his chest, “Yeah, I don’t think there’s that much to misunderstand.” “Actually, I was apart of The Light,” You corrected, only to cower further behind Wally when they all glowered at you.

“Guys, she’s right. Today was her first day starting out on The Team and while she could’ve done a little less damage,” Wally emphasized the last part as his emerald green eyes glared into yours but softened when you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, “she is no longer apart of The Light.”

The Team frowned before exchanging looks with each other, it was Robin how scowled at you.

“You really think we’re gonna fall for this (Y/n)? Whatever mind control you have implanted in Wally’s head, you better stop it.” Robin frowned. You boldly stood next to the speedster as you glared at the Boy Wonder, “Excuse me? Are you accusing me of putting a mind control device on my boyfriend? First off, I’m hurt, and second of all, what is there for me to control?”

“Hey!” Wally exclaimed. Artemis snickered a little before realizing something, “Wait, did you say ‘boyfriend’?”

You nodded your head, “Yup! And what Wally said is the truth, you can even ask Miss Martian over there. Who should be waking up in 1...2...3…Now!”

Almost on cue, Miss Martian sat up as if she was never knocked out, startling everyone including Wally. Superboy, once he recovered from the shock, immediately ran over to the Martian.

“M’gann!” He called out as he knelt beside her, “Did she hurt you?” M’gann shook her head, “No, I mean, it just caught me off-guard, but it was like I was in a hypnotic state.”

Then she looked up at you, “She’s telling the truth though when she said Psimon, she somehow forced me to see her memories? She’s been undercover for the Justice League for two months.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, decided I could bring a few gifts to you guys before I became good for...well, good. Psimon was the one who was most suspicious of me but thanks to you, he’s out of the picture.”

“Wait, can we go back to the part where you called Wally your boyfriend?” Artemis exclaimed, “Because I’ve fought you for the first time today and I can already tell you are out of his league.”

You looked at the blonde before looking back to your boyfriend with a wide grin, “I like her.” He groaned, “Of course, you do.”

Miss Martian, who seemed to have forgotten your attack on her, quickly flew over to you excitedly.

“How did you two meet?” She beamed. You blinked before smiling back at Wally, “I punched him in the face and he said thank you.”

Everyone stared at Wally, quizzical looks on their faces, while you merely snickered at the flustered look on your boyfriend’s face.

“I was half-dazed by Count Vertigo and you know it!” Wally hissed to you under his breathe, his face as red as his hair. You merely chuckled before looking up at him, “But it’s what happened, right?”

“Just....add more context next time, okay?” He pouted. You merely shook your head before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Next time, tell your team that I’m going good and you’ve got yourself a deal, Skids.”

#Wally West x reader #Wally West x you #Kid Flash x reader #Kid Flash x you #Young justice Kid Flash #young justice x reader #Young justice x you #Yj x reader #Yj x you #Wally West Kid Flash #DC x reader #DC x you

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hopeswriting · 4 years

Text

FANDOM: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

EVENT: Flufftober 2020

PROMPT: Sharing Clothes

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting

RATING: G

PAIRING: Adult!Reborn/Adult!Fon

TAG WARNING: Swearing, OOC!Reborn I guess?

SUMMARY:

Reborn keeps stealing Fon's clothes for himself. Fon thinks buying his clothes twice is the only logical, caring thing to do. (Fon is mistaken.)

WORDS: 948

Reborn whistles, low and drawn out and unmistakably turned on. Fon smiles and stands in front of the mirror.

His shopping trip was about filling his wardrobe with some of these boring and plain occidental clothes, but the news he could retrieve his latest handmade changshan made up for that.

The silk fabric is all in nuances of navy blue, embellished with rich but simple embroidered patterns and seasonal motifs. A storm rages at the hem of his sleeves and rises up his legs, and two dragons poise on his shoulders while two others curl around his hips.

But what Fon loves the most is the black lizard sleeping just on top of his heart.

“I’m going to enjoy taking that off of you so much.”

“Gently, I hope.”

“Or what?”

Fon grazes at the soft fabric. “I’ll break your hands,” he whispers lovingly.

Reborn laughs. “Well, don’t be shy. Let me see you.”

Fon turns around, and takes a few steps towards the bed in what may or may not be a fashion walk. Reborn lies on the bed, propped on his elbows, and is all but undressing him with his eyes.

“Is that all? Give me a little twirl, show me how you rip a man’s heart out of his chest with your bare hands.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t see any other man here but you.”

Reborn rolls on his back, arches his back and bends his legs in quite the sensual position. “Do it.”

Fon bites his lip. “Maybe another time.”

“I like this one bit,” Reborn says in a casual voice, underlined with something that tells Fon he’s not going to let him live it down anytime soon. Not that he minds.

“I knew you would.” He shifts sideways to admire himself in the mirror some more, stroking the black lizard adoringly.

“But you know what would make this outfit even better? Black. Or yellow.” Fon scrunches up his nose. “Fuck off.”

“Oh please, I never once saw you with any ounce of yellow on you.”

“It’s called being smart, darling. People who advertise their flames like that only deserve my bullets in their head.”

Fon glances at him through the mirror. Reborn rolled back on his stomach, and is smirking at him daringly. Fon rolls his eyes and chooses not to comment on the jab.

He looks into the rest of the shopping bags instead.

“Another outfit?”

“Not quite.”

He holds the warm brown shirt in front of him, with little golden ornaments on the sleeves. It’s the exact copy of the one he already wore earlier.

He goes on like that until there’s no more clothes to show off, and every one of them was one he already tried.

“So?” He waves the button-up tantalizingly.

“So you bought all your clothes twice. So what?” Reborn’s face loses all humor, for some reason.

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.” Reborn smirks, but his eyes stay cold, and Fon would rather he stays laid down, really. “Do spell it out to me, Fon.”

Oh no. Did Fon misunderstood this?

“You know,” he says again slowly, lowering the button-up. “Now you can match clothes with me while not depriving me of my own clothes.” He tries a smile. “Happy?”

Fon ducks under a pillow, that straight up breaks the mirror and cracks and shakes the wardrobe upon impact.

“You ungrateful son of a bitch. You don’t deserve me.”

“Reborn—”

“Leave.”

“This is my apartment.”

“Did I fucking stutter? Just lock your precious wardrobe and leave.”

“Reborn, love, I swear I had only the purest intentions.” Reborn scoffs. Fon holds back a sigh. “You always steal my clothes.”

“How tyrannic of me.”

“You never give them back in one piece.”

“Life happens. Buy new ones. What, aren’t you rich?”

“I do that. And then you ruin those too.”

Reborn purses his lips. He stands, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s wearing one of Fon’s shirt.

“What is it?”

Reborn crosses his arms on his chest. “You’re not seriously going to make me say it.”

“No, you have to. Love, talk to me.”

The silent stretches between them, but he holds his ground. Reborn clenches his jaw.

“I don’t want to match clothes with you, don’t be stupid. I want to wear your clothes while being certain you can’t wear this particular piece of cloth as long as I have it. What’s the point otherwise?”

The silence falls again and Fon would feel embarrassed, but he just feels overwhelmingly fond. How sweet. How… uncharacteristically adorable.

Fon chuckles. Reborn shoots him.

He dodges, bends his arm behind his back and pins him on the bed. He settles on top of him, presses his face against the mattress with a hand on his neck.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I know. Drop the gun.”

Reborn needs a little encouragement to comply. Fon throws the gun away, and release the pressure. Reborn shifts on his back.

“You better plan to stay like that forever. You won’t like the turn your life will take once you get off of me.”

“Then I’ll just have to take you up on your offer and stay here forever.” Fon laughs, shakes his head. He cups his face and bumps their forehead together. “You’re one unbelievable man Reborn, but rest assured I heard you loud and clear.”

Reborn curls his fingers in his hair. “Good for you.”

“You know in what clothes I love best to see you in?” A slow smirk spreads on his face, and Fon grins back.

“No clue,” Reborn whispers against his lips. He flips them around. “Let’s find out.”

BONUS:

Reborn and Fon are the definition of a Power Couple and I love that for them. Can you imagine fighting the two together? And they’re actually a well oiled machine type of teammates??? Oof.

They’re not together for a long time here. Well, it depends on what you consider a long relationship, but they’re together for about a year or so?

I headcanon about two years pass between the moment they’re chosen as the I Prescelti Sette and the moment they’re cursed, so you may or may not found that quick but what can I say.

It was sexual tension at first sight, and then it went from there lol.

They’re actually already living together, ish. Fon half moved out to Reborn’s apartment, and Reborn half moved out to Fon’s apartment, but they both think their apartment is the better one so they’re kind of stuck at this point.

They’ll probably fight that argument out, but in the meantime when they can’t compromise they just crash at the mansion.

------

They fight out most of their arguments really. And not in a they-can’t-communicate-with-each-other way, they just... like fighting each other lol. And they’re both stubborn so the cold hard fact of who won the fight and who didn’t works quite well for them.

Besides these fights are almost always followed by a heated make-out session, so, you know ;). And sometimes they go straight to the make out session part.

(And sometimes they “fight” just so a make out session can happen lol.)

------

Reborn is a territorial type kind of boyfriend. Clingy you might say, as long as you don’t say it in front of him lmao. He has to do it the round about way though because he has a Reputation.

His latest stunt is wearing Fon’s clothes. He’d like it better the other way around usually, so people would know Fon is with the World’s-to-be Greatest Hitman, but let’s be honest Fon doesn’t need this kind of protection.

(Or any protection at all for that matter.)

And if we’re really being honest it was never about that to begin with. Reborn just really likes wearing his boyfriend’s clothes and seeing the realization in people’s eyes when it clicks in their head.

And Fon honestly thought he was just playing another prank on him, because Reborn does keep giving them back damaged. And maybe he is a little less careful with them than, let’s say, with his own clothes, but he does actually have only good intentions.

(Fon loves nothing more than seeing him in his red changshan.)

------

On the other hand Fon is a lot more open with his affection. Wears black lizard on his clothes, stuff like that.

He always manages to drop Reborn’s name in conversations, calls him sweet names in front of others, sends him sweet messages on a daily basis.

(Reborn loves the hell out of them. He always responds casually to them but you better believe he notices when he doesn’t get them, and makes sure Fon notices he noticed.)

------

They’re kinda rough with each other, really handsy, but never violent. And it’s always all fun and games, with consent and everything.

They talk to each other exclusively in banter (in public anyway), either loaded with sexual tension, or really heated and it feels less like banter and more like they’ll break into a fight any second.

(And I know I’m talking a lot about their sexual tension lol, but they also really just love each other.)

And they never hesitate to actually break into a fight, so it’s even more confusing for people who don’t know them (and thus don’t realize it’s just how they bond together).

------

But sometimes they actually are about to break into a fight, and it happens just often enough the other Arcobaleno kind of worry about their relationship in the long-term.

Reborn and Fon don’t. It works fine for them so far, and they’re not even that serious in their relationship yet. (Or I guess the word is committed? They are serious with each other.)

They’ll figure that out once they’ll get there. And they’re pretty confident they will get there. (They want to anyway.)

(And then the Curse happens.)

Thank you for reading! Any and review are appreciated ^^.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr fanfic #flufftober 2020 #sharing clothes #khr reborn #khr fon #reborn/fon #i loved writing their banter #and yeah fon likes his fashion sense to be NOTICED at first glance #and i for one think it's valid of him

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obscure-black-clouds · 7 years

Text

the aeon

REQUEST: anon: “Do u take requests? If u do I was wondering if u could do something with credence x Metamorphmagus!reader?”

WORD COUNT: 2226;

WARNINGS: none, mentions of scars if you consider this a warning.

A/N: At first i planned to make a headcanon, but it turned out to be something more. I very much like this piece, tbh. Its couple of years after events of the first film. I’m not sure how Metamorphmagi were treated back then, but considering rarity and all that atmosphere we have what we have. Hope you enjoy!

Being a Metamorphomagus was great. Most of the time. Not that you complained, after all, being one brought you together with a person you absolutely adored and dearly loved. But sometimes… Sometimes it seemed as if you started to lose yourself among billion faces you’d tried on like masks. Sometimes it was just too much.

First rays of the morning sun wasn’t seen yet, but the sky already started turning pale pink, proclaiming the beginning of a new day. You loved this time, when the city was still asleep, quiet and calm, when there was nothing but you and the sunlight. Dawn seemed infinite, as if it was an aeon, a whole era. It wasn’t that often that you woke up early enough to see the birth of the new day, but sometimes, when things were out of place and you couldn’t sleep, you’d just watched the sunrise.

You turned around, hearing a quiet breath, and felt you lips curving in a soft smile. A man you so dearly loved, was sleeping peacefully, not even suspecting that you weren’t next to him. It was strange actually, usually he would wake up from the slightest noise, but today was your lucky day. He would be upset, knowing what you were thinking about. You turned back to the sun, suddenly remembering how you two met. Maybe, you thought, it was the best day of your past life, the day you’d met Credence Barebone.

It was probably one of the first sunny days in an awfully long time, earth missed the spring so badly that it almost lost all its color. You finally succeed in convincing your chief to let you have a little walk with children. See, you’ve worked in a small kindergarten for magical kids, some of whom, most of, to be honest, didn’t have parents. You enjoyed your work, it was a blessing, seeing these children smile and laugh regardless to the situation. However, it never saved you from tears, when some of them said that they would be happy to have you as their mother.

You felt in the company of kids far more comfortable, then with the adults. They would never judge you for anything or call you a freak. Even living in a magical society didn’t ensure being loved for who you are. You couldn’t change who you were, metamorphmagi are born, not made. You were different and lot of people were scared of it, even if they were wizards. Going to Ilvermorny didn’t really change anything, most of the people just ignored the fact, you friend said it was “cool”, but some of the others… Others would occasionally call you a freak, whispering mean thing behind your back, making sure you’d hear them. It took some time to get over it, to learn how to control it and stop your hair turn red every time you were angry.

You found your place among children, among those who were genuinely impressed your abilities. They brought your faith back, made you feel… Normal. They would ask you to show them a trick or two, laughing and clapping in joy. Sometimes you would even have some king if a theater, you, playing all the roles, of course. Perhaps, seeing wonder in children’s eyes, when their favourite character came to life, was a thing worth living for.

You, and five children, still kids, to be honest, the youngest one was five, and the oldest – eight, were carefully walking down the street. You planned to take them to the Central park to see the zoo, of to feed the ducks in the pond. However, on the way a wonderful idea popped up in your mind. Pastries. Those children rarely had something sweet, so buying them some cookies and candies sounded amazing. And, there was the only place you could get what you wanted.

Kowalski Quality Baked Goods.

You carefully crossed the road, watching children to keep up with you, and finally opened the door. The smell of sweets could easily knock you off, so good it was. You let the children, still confused, come in first. Surprisingly, there weren’t any people, and you worried that you came while it was a break or something. However, in a second the owner himself appeared smiling widely.

“(Y/N)! It’s nice to see you!” Jacob exclaimed. He was, possibly, the kindest person you knew, always gentle and smiling, with an amazing sense of humor.

“Oh, Mr. Kowalski! I’m sorry, is this a break or something-” you started, still holding children close to yourself.

“Remember what I told you? It’s Jacob, (Y/N), no misters here,” he laughed. “You are always welcomed here! Oh and who are these young folks with you?” Jacob asked curiously.

“Oh, it’s Jenny, Alec, Dustin, Ella and Jeremy,” you said, gesturing to each of the children, “my pupils. We were planning to by some pastries before going for a walk to a central park.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! Choose what you want that’s on me.”

“No, no, Mr. Kowalski- Jacob, I will pay,” you rushed to say, but he just shook his head.

“(Y/N), this world needs a little more kindness,” he smiled at your silent “thank you”, and then turned around to call someone. “Credence, come here!”

You carefully watched kids choosing what they want, and then turned around to see who else came in. You froze for a second, curiously examining a young man, who intently listened to Jacob. He was much taller than Jacob was, though his shoulder were hunched over. His black messy hair made him even paler than he was. Sharp jawline, incredibly high cheekbones and a slightest bit crocked nose made him look as if he was cut out of stone, just like those sculptures you saw in museums. His skin mirrored alabaster, and if not for a ping plump lips, he would be mistaken for a statue. Jenny, who tugged your sleeve made you look away, just before Credence noticed your gaze and glances at you, intrigued.

Sometimes there are people we are meant to meet. You could have sworn you’ve seen him already somewhere, but the memory of that just kept slipping through your fingers again and again. Vaguely you heard Jacob leave, but didn’t really payed attention, until the quiet voice interrupted.

“Can I help you, Miss?” you almost jumped in surprise, and turned around rapidly. But it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your hair suddenly turned silver. You two stared at each other for a second, he – in surprise, you – in terror. You had just revealed yourself to a no-maj. Oh well. You slowly brought your hair back to normal, still scared. Perhaps, he understood how you welt, because when he spoke again it wasn’t something you expected to hear.

“Don’t- don’t be scared,” he raised his hands as if he wanted to surrender and made a tiniest step forward. His brown eyes were wide, but it wasn’t fear, it was amazement what you saw. “I am- I am a wizard too. S-sort of,” he stuttered slightly, nervous.

“Oh thank Merlin,” you exclaimed, finally exhaling. “I’m- I’m so sorry, you just startled me and I’ve lost control.”

“How did you- How did you do that?” he asked curiously.

“I- I don’t think it’s the best place to talk about this,” you apologetically murmured.

“Oh- yes, of course,” Credence answered with a slightest bit of disappointment.

“If you want, you can go with us to Central park,” you suddenly suggested, “If you have time, of course.”

“Of course he has time!” the door opened, revealing Jacob, who was carrying a box of fresh pastries. “Go, Credence, walk young lady to the park!”

“But-”

“Go, you a free until tomorrow,” he waved his hand, packing sweets which children chose. Credence suddenly blushed and nodded, handing you a package. You hardly contained a loud gasp, when you saw his hands. Sleeves of a white shirt were rolled up, revealing Credence’s forearms covered in scars. It would be strange for you to ask about them now, knowing him only for five minutes.

However, if five minutes you all were walking through the streets keeping eye on children. None of you dared to break the silence, so you just carefully watched as Credence was holding the youngest one, Ella, in his hands. It made you smile, because, to be honest, it was absolutely adorable. You found a place in a park near the pond with no one around and allowed children to play by themselves.

“She seems to like you,” you smiled to Credence, who was staring at children fondly.

“Hm? Sorry I didn’t-” he rushed to apologize.

“I said Ella likes you,” you smiled even wider, gesturing to the girl.

“Oh-” he couldn’t help but smile too. His face lit up instantly, making him more alive, as if the spring itself smiled through him. “She- She is very sweet. All of them. Are they-”

“Magical? Yes,” you nodded, “I work in an orphanage. If we manage to get to a magical child first we bring them there. It’s safer than leave them among no-majs.”

“I see,” there was something in his voice, you couldn’t comprehend. To be honest, Credence himself was quite hard to comprehend.

“Oh, I’m (Y/N) by the way” you suddenly realized that he didn’t know your name. What an awkward situation.

“I’m Credence” he smiled softly.

“Well, I guess, I’ve promised you a story, Credence” you answered, breathing deeply. “What you saw- Well, I am a Metamorphomagus. I can change the way I look if I want to. It’s a rare skill, so I’m not surprised you didn’t know.”

“I- I don’t know much about magic, to be honest,” he muttered, staring at the ground. You glanced at him curiously but decided to keep your questions to yourself.

“I don’t usually tell people who I am, actually,” you tried to keep talking, because you really enjoyed your conversation with Credence.

“Why?”

“Well, people usually not very fond of that kind of stuff. You are one of few who wasn’t scared, and didn’t start to scream that I am a freak,” you lowered your eyes and didn’t noticed how Credence looked at you.

“You are not a freak,” he suddenly said with a surprising certainty in his voice.

“That’s very nice of you, Credence,” you smiled again, watching the children. “May I ask you something?”

“Y-Yes, of course.”

“What happened to your hands? If you don’t want to answer you don’t have to,” you softly said, looking at him.

“No, it’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just- There wasn’t an orphanage for me when I needed it.”

“Oh-” you gasped and carefully touched his forearm, squeezing it lightly. Credence imperceptibly flinch but then relaxed. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he rasped, finally looking into your eyes. “Past is past.”

Past is past, but is was still your favourite memory, seeing him playing with kids and laughing. That day Credence even walked you to orphanage, and timidly asked if he would see you again. You just smiled and hugged him instead of response. You almost went inside when Children suddenly decided that they wanted to say goodbye too, so it took ten more minutes. You smiled, feeling a little better. You had someone who thought you were a wonder, not a freak.

You glanced at the bed, but instead stumbled upon a pair of familiar brown eyes. Credence woke up and stood right behind you, watching you curiously.

“Why are you here, honey?” he softly asked, hugging you from behind. Credence was still sleepy and therefore even more adorable. He was still as gentle as the first time you met, even though he grew much more comfortable and confident. He was still Credence Barebone.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you softly shrugged, enjoying sudden warmth.

“Are you all right?” Credence asked, much more awake.

“Yes, it’s fine, never mind.”

“(Y/N), you know you can trust me, right?” he inquired, carefully turning you around, still in his embrace.

“Of course, I do. I just- I just felt lost. Sometimes I feel like I- I’m losing myself in all those images. Like I am a freak again and-” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest.

“(Y/N), you are not lost, you are here, with me,” he softly stated, rubbing your back. “You are my miracle.”

“I just-”

“We all feel bad sometimes, but you need to understand that whatever those thoughts tell you, it’s false. You are wonderful person (Y/N), and not because I say so, you just are. I say this just so you know it too,” Credence whispered.

“What if I lose myself someday?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“You won’t. You are here and I have you,” he kissed your forehead, waiting for you to calm down. “I love you.“

“I love you too,“ you looked at him, amazed. He wasn’t the one to say it out loud, he was more of a silent kind. His love was in actions, not words.

“Have I ever told you, I loved you at first sight?“

“When I freaked out and turned gray?“

“Um-“ he bit his lip, “You see, I saw you in the bakery mach earlier but was to shy to talk, so when you- Um- Never mind“ he awkwardly blushed when you chuckled. “And now come on, let’s go back to bed.”

“Wait,” you suddenly exclaimed, still smiling and holding his hand. “The dawn.”

The sun was slowly rising over the horizon, proclaiming the reign of a new day, coloring roofs in reds and yellows, dancing on the top of the trees. The dawn was the best time of the day, time, when the city was still sleeping. Time, when a hope is born. Time, when everything seems like an eternity.

And you had nothing against in. If you had to spent an aeon in Credence’s hands, than eternity sounded just right.

#credence barebone #credence barebone imagine #credence barebone x reader #credence x reader #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #jacob kowalski

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