I See You - Chapter 3

I See You - Chapter 3

Miles Quaritch x Fem! Na'vi OC

I See You - Chapter 3
I See You - Chapter 3

Summary: Vira Te Wou Auhew’ite, an albino Na'vi and future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan, The Ikran Riders of the Eastern Sea, keeps needing to save the demon Miles Quaritch at Ewyas command. When she's given a sign to try to teach him The People's way, both she and Miles struggle with their growing feelings for each other.

Authors note: Sorry this took so long guys, I don't love this chapter and it has been rewritten like 3 times and I just couldn't do it anymore. I also just got back from vacation to 99+ notifications and I'm floored but also too overwhelmed to go through them so I will be updating the tag list if there are any AFTER CHAPTER 4, which is going up tomorrow as an apology for taking forever. I do enjoy the next chapter so hope you guys do too!

PS I tried moving the taglist to the comments, please let me know if it doesn't work! This is my first time ever using tumblr, still learning!

Rating: T (last T chapter just FYI)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language/swearing, mild mentions of mating/sex, depiction of animal birth

Words: 5820-ish, give or take a few.

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Chapter 3

Miles stayed up into the night, the albino Na’vi passed out beside him snoring softly on his shoulder, the hammock she worked on tirelessly draped over her small form and partially over his legs. Anyone else and he probably would have shoved them off him but he let her and the mess of white-blonde hair stay put as he watched the fire smolder down to ashes. 

Why did he touch her hand like that? He’d been interested in watching her experiment with his had, she wasn’t scared of his pinky, she found it fascinating, found him fascinating. Miles saw no fear in her like the other natives had for him, except that time he’d pushed her up against the tree.  She even liked hearing the stories about humans l, Bridgehead city and earth, curious little thing she was. Her orange eyes lit up sometimes like he was talking about magic. 

But he had no explanation even to himself why when she'd put their palms together he’d folded his large hand over her small pink one. Reflex? It had felt right when she lined up her little hand, it was something maybe his grand pappy had done once when he’d gone to visit as a kid. It was something he felt boarded on affection. Couldn’t be having that. He told himself he was just trying to make her happy so she wouldn’t run home. Swore to himself he’d be damned if he ended up like Jake Sully, abandoning his people for some local tail.

The thought did cross his mind briefly that he was even less human than Sully had been when he’d taken a Na’vi mate, he’d merely been an avatar driver. Quaritch was a damn na’vi, grown in some lab with human memories and his own human DNA spliced together to create who he was now. 

Miles felt sleep getting the better of him, yellow eyes growing heavy as he started into the embers . He moved Vira’s little pink body as gently as he could off his shoulder and the tree so she was laying on the mat, facing away from him. She didn’t even wake up as he easily cradled her in one arm to move her, her sweet scent filled his nose. If he left her sitting up she cursed the whole morning under her breath about her back hurting and he didn't want to wake up to her whining again. Miles didn’t know what to do with her hammock and he threw it over her like a blanket and laid down beside her, back to her. He did put his tail over her small pink waist, so he’d feel if she moved, couldn’t have his na’vi teacher falling off the tree. 

Quaritch fell asleep knowing well enough that there was room to sleep 4 more full-grown na’vi on the branch and none of them would have fallen. 

What was he doing? 

He just cared because they were in close contact, she was the only person to talk to for a thousand clicks. Even soldiers who didn’t like each other got close living together in barracks. 

That’s all it was. 

Vira rose with the sun, deciding instead of hunting again today, she would use the day to try and teach Miles to better move through the higher limbs in the jungle. They had gone hunting the past few days on the ground with little success, it was time to take their hunt to higher ground. She’d gotten them a Syaksyuk to eat from the ground that would last a few days yesterday but Miles needed to master hunting with the bow. She blamed Miles' noisy clothes for scaring away the animals on the forest floor. From above though, their sounds would be less suspicious to the wildlife and it would be advantageous if they could move quickly and quietly through the trees with bows. Their prey would never know they were even there.

The Na’vi swiftly could move from layer to layer of the jungle, swinging on vines, using their bodies to propel them, and jumping from high places. Miles needed to learn to move like them in addition to living and hunting like them, it was part of their way of life. 

Vira sat up from the sleeping mat, Miles still snored softly beside her and she removed his tail from being draped over the nivi and her midsection. She’d worked on the nivi every moment she didn’t have anything else to work on, she looked forward to a good nights sleep in a hammock. Many times she had fallen asleep against the tree’s trunk but Miles lately had been moving her to her side and covering her with it. She woke up nearly every morning with his tail somewhere on her too,  Every spare moment she dedicated to it, when she’s seen the elders work on it in other villages it was something special to add a new one, something not to be rushed and could take several short cycles to finish but in this home tree they selected they had no other place but the branch to sleep on. She wanted them to have comfort for their stay and be well rested. Her back and limbs were sore most mornings, the grass had been more comfortable but it was dangerous for only two na’vi to stay on the ground. 

Back at the Eastern sea her people slept in small huts in a large cave. They slept on soft beds of glowing moss and soft spun linens of all colors spun by their own elders. Families shared a hut until they were mated. Her sister, her three younger male cousins who her mother had taken in after her sister, Ìveye passings. She had lost her aunt, closest confidant at that young age but gained 3 brothers, even the youngest who had lived for eighteen full sky cycles had mated and left their hut. Only Vira and mother were left in their hut, she wondered what her mother would do once she left. In truth she could take another mate if she desired and even have more children, she was not too old. Na’vi could live over 160 full sky cycles, mother was not even halfway through her lifetime, at 56 full cycles. 

But Vira did not foresee her mother doing this, she was rigid, she was Tsahìk. She would likely stay alone or move to the hut that housed the elder females who were widowed, the village Aunties. 

Vira stretched and popped her limbs, not wishing to think of her mother or home anymore. She gathered her nivi back up into her pink hands and continued weaving.. She got lost watching her pink hands in the repetitive motion, looking at them made her mind wonder back to several nights past. Thinking back to her hand being dwarfed by Miles own with his fingers folded over hers. They had not spoken much after, eating the Yovos in silence until Miles fell asleep. She’d stayed up weaving until her eyes could no longer stay open and her fingers were numb but when she’d awoken that was the first time he’d moved her to sleep on the sleeping mat. The act made her already tender heart soften to him, a kind act even amongst all his sharp edges. 

The pink Na’vi was intuitive, she sensed much conflict in his heart. Miles heart was torn between embracing the Na’vi teachings and being one of the sky people. She saw it in his actions, in the way he spoke. In this short time together she felt his growing connection to the forest, to the Na’vi ways, how he had used the spear so perfectly was proof enough to her. But he could not shed himself yet of the alien clothing nor fully of their weapons, he still held the gun on his hip and the wicked metal knife behind him.

Vira did not take offense to his lack of change, change was hard, even for the Na’vi. She knew the change that waited for her when she returned home would be hard, she would become a mated pair with Huärì and leave the safety of her mothers hut. She would no longer travel, would no longer teach the younglings of the other clans and customs. Tsahìk training would be how she spent her days, a task she was unsure if her heart truly desired but it was what it was meant to do. The only change she looked forward to was having her own brood of Na’vi babies. Na’vi women had anywhere from one to ten children in all stages of their life. Her own mother had only bore she and Ikeyni. Vira secretly prayed to Ewya she would have more children than that but any child would be a gift. Her sister already had three of her own, surely she would have as many. 

Her thoughts and hands stopped when Miles finally opened his sleepy yellow eyes. 

“Mornin’” voice deep and grumbly with tiredness as he sat up. 

“Big day today,” 

“We huntin’ with the bows again?” 

She shook her head of white, wild curls. “You need to learn the upper forest, how to move quick and quiet, it will make you better hunter.”

“I’d say I’m pretty damn good with a spear” he gestured behind him with his thumb to her etching of him with the Yerik. 

She smiled, he was a prideful one. “How many kills have you made with bow?”

Miles made a thoughtful sound and the corners of his mouth turned down in reluctant acceptance of her plans. They’d gone out on the ground with their bows and had seen lots of wildlife but they had not gotten a kill. Vira blamed Miles loud pants for scaring off the animals but he didn't seem to agree. Either way, a kill from above would be better for them, helping hide any noise or scents.

They’d been eating fresh Teylul they gathered over the past few days as well as fruits. She’d gotten a syaksyuk one night and roasted it over the fire spit they’d made but she wanted Miles to be the hunter, he needed to learn, not her. 

“Once you master hunting from the tree, the next step will be from Ikran.”

“Now I like the sound of that Princess .” He grabbed his bow. 

With bows in hand, they scaled down to the mid branches of their home tree. A fall from this height would not kill Miles but it would not be pleasant if he fell. To the Na’vi sometimes pain was a necessary tool for teaching, not corporal pain inflicted on purpose but the pain from an experience, to learn from it. Vira said a small silent prayer to the great mother that Miles would be sure of foot and not do harm himself. 

She held her bow in one hand while Miles kept his slung over his shoulder so he could easily use two of his hands. Vira ran along the branch they stood on and jumped to the next tree over, the gap was small and Miles followed her with no problem. 

Vira took off then through the jungle, a grueling pace but she judged Miles a quick study in all things physical. Hunting, weapons, and now even racing through the tangles of branches. The injuries he sustained no longer seemed to affect him, Ewya had healed him quicker than expected was her only explanation. The great mother must have wanted him to learn quickly, Vira would obey her command. 

She’d been right to go fast and strenuous, Miles was keeping good pace with her, running and jumping with ease. He only paused when there was a small gap between two branches but a low hanging one overhead could be reached. Without hesitation, Vira jumped to grab the branch and rolled her body, using her body weight with one hand to propel her pink body forward. 

The Na’vi woman turned back when she did not hear the large blue Na’vi behind her, he was standing on the edge of the branch, staring at her with his jaw wide. Vira beamed a smile at him.

Miles let out a low whistle. “Didn’t imagine you could move like that, Princess,” he complimented from across the branches. His yellow eyes looked back and forth from where Vira stood. 

“You can do it!" she encouraged "Move back, spring up with your body, and swing yourself over. “ she instructed, doing her best to illustrate the movement again from where she stood.

“I got this one Tiny, don't worry 'bout me. " Miles backed up a few paces, easily jumping up with his large body, he grabbed the branch Vira had swung from with two hands and swung himself over with ease. 

“Have you done this before? You are quick. Fast learner.”

“Someone taught me a little bit, never gone so fast before.”

“The sky boy?” She remembered him from the beach, from when the Ilu was shot. From when the huts were burned. The boy had dressed and spoken Na’vi as though he was a true-born son of Ewya.  She remembered he had painted himself with blue stripes in an attempt to appear more like one of The People.

Miles nodded. “Spider, he likes to go by Spider.” He looked down at her, she couldn’t quite read the tall Na’vi’s expression but his yellow eyes were sad. They reflected the sadness and conflict she knew resided in his strong heart.

“He’s my son.”

Vira couldn’t hide the surprise on her face, her orange eyes opened wider and wider as she thought of question after question.  Was she keeping him from returning to his mate, to his child by teaching him to be Na’vi out here in the forest? Miles had already told her when they shared stories around the fire in the evenings, about how he was once a sky person, a human, but was now was in a Na’vi body. He didn’t dream walk like others who had came before. The details entranced her, all the science the Sky People possessed seemed like magic to her. She had not thought that he had a family from when he was human. She sometimes forgot he was anything more than Na’vi. 

Guilt and something else twisted deep in the pink na’vis stomach. Vira had never considered he was spoken for and she didn’t enjoy the thought, even though she had a betrothed of her own waiting for her at the Easter Sea. 

“Am I keeping you from him?” Her mouth felt dry, like no amount of water could quench her thirst. A lump formed in her throat. “From your mate?” The question came out meeker than she intended.

“No, nothing like that Tiny. His mom is died a long time ago. Spiders off somewhere with the reef people, pretty sure anyway,” there was a bitterness and maybe a hint of jealousy in his words. 

Something he left unsaid.

Vira swallowed hard, feelings she couldn’t place swirling in her head and her stomach. Did she really feel relief to hear someone had passed on from this life? Why did she feel relief at all? What kind of monster was she to feel this way? Miles did not seem particularly sad at the mention of Spiders mothers death. Na’vi could not have children without being mated for life, surely the sky woman had been his mate. If a Na’vi’s mate passed on in an untimely way, they were able to choose another to mate with, any other circumstance it was not possible to mate with another. 

The pink told herself it was because she had grown fond of Miles, she did not want to see him be alone. Part of being Na’vi was mating for life once you came of age and completed your trails. He would not need complete Iknimaya as he had already claim an Ikran, with her assistance, but he would need to have a Uniltaron to be full considered a member of any Na’vi tribe. Once he completed that, maybe another Na’vi woman would learn to accept and be fascinated with his five fingered hands as she had. 

The thought of another na’vi woman mating with him made her stomach turn sour, as if she’d eaten something gone to rot. 

“We could go look for him, take the Ikrans and go,” Vira suggested, pulling herself out of her own thoughts. She gently placed her pink hand comfortingly on his large, toned bicep. 

“Naw, he chose not to come with me.” 

She removed her hand from his arm, there was a silence between them. Questions and unspoken words hung in the air. Vira felt shifted uncomfortably on the balls of her feet, both equally avoiding not looking directly at each other. The pink Na’vi wanted to ask more questions but his words had felt final, putting a hard stop to the conversation.

Miles flicked his tail against her leg. “C’mon, let’s move out Princess.”

They pressed on further away from their Hometree. The farther they ran the more obstacles they encountered and Miles seemed to be fit to conquer them all, even if his mind was far away with the boy. His boy. Vira still tried to wrap her mind around it. 

Partially to distract herself and partially to distract Miles, Vira would slow her pace sometimes to let her own tail playful smack against Miles or wiggle it just out of his grasp, in turn Miles would try to playfully grab it. Vira played often with the children of her village and those of the other clans she visited, this was a common one played across the clans, it helped teach balance and coordination in the trees. Miles even succeeded once in successfully snatching her pink tail, eliciting a playful yelp from her as she snatched it back from his large blue paws. It made the large na’vi give her a fanged, triumphant smile. She rewarded him by sticking out her tongue. 

Vira was truly impressed by how well Miles did with managing to not fall from the trees and keep his eyes fixed on her tail. It all seemed natural to him, moving swift and graceful as he always seemed to. She always found herself comparing him to the great predator palulukan, graceful, strong, and deadly. Perhaps she could convince the Anurai clan to teach him how to ride one, it is what their rite of passage was instead of claiming in Ikran.  She had a good relationship with them, it was not unfathomable that she could persuade them. In her mind's eye she could practically see the large Na’vi male astride the equally large carnivore in full na’vi dress with a spear in hand. 

As they ran, they came across a large gap in their path that made Vira skid skillfully to a stop, Miles so close he nearly bumped into her. She could feel the heat of his closeness behind her, his body barely brushing against her. The feel of pants brushing gently against her bare legs, if she leaned her head back surely it would undoubtedly rest upon his chest. 

She felt him take a step back but not before she was nearly positive he took a deep inhale. Was he scenting the air, for her? The pink Na’vi pushed the thought away, he was just filling his lungs, they had been moving quickly for some time, attempting to catch his breath.

Her orange eyes measured the great divide between the branches of the great trees, obvious that it was far too large to jump but there were many vines in between they could swing from to get across, not an easy task to master. She looked down and saw the large leaves below that would catch them if they fell and bring them safely to the forest floor. 

Without warning, Vira quickly flew across the divide, swinging skillfully from vine to vine, ending up on the other side in a pink blur. He had not cared for her instruction the last time so she decided to let Miles figure it out for himself. 

She watched Miles from the branch across the split. She watched him take a deep breath and run and jump into the vines, he held strong and true amongst them but his movements were too slow and unsure from vine to vine. Each one swayed precariously, his arms while large and strong lost more and more strength. One needed to be quick and sure on the vines. 

Vira watched him slowly skid down a vine, the horror on his face as he tried to use his legs to stop from falling as gravity worked against him, she heard him let out a yell as he fell and smacked face first into a leaf. 

The future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan let out a loud laugh. For the first time, she thought Miles did something that was not graceful.

Vira jumped down from the branch she stood on and let the large leaves of the jungle gently guide her down as she softened her limbs, bringing her to him in the rainforest lower level. He was laying on his back staring up towards the branches he’d just been in, breathing heavy. 

“Are you hurt?” 

From that fall he might have been swore but she was sure he would have no serious injury. 

“No darlin’, I could hear you howling like a damn prolemuris up in the damn trees so just my pride. ” grunting as he stood, he turned to show his backside to her “and my pants.” 

His whole backside was soiled with mud and sap all the way from kuru to his bottom. A large hole was exposed from his tail down, showing his under clothes. He’d either gotten stuck on something or it was simply a mix of overwear and then the friction on the vines. Vira changed twengs frequently to help prevent overworking of the cloth. 

Vira couldn’t help herself, she covered her mouth to try and hide it but seeing the large blue Na’vi such a mess, she let out small squeaks trying to coverup. Normally he was so sure and dexterous in all he did, seeing him so out of his element made tears prick at the corner of her eyes. 

Miles looked down at her, she felt the scrutiny in his eyes. She could see the flecks of gold in his yellow eyes at first she thought him mad but he just let out a small sigh of defeat. “It's alright let it out, Tiny. Laugh it up.” 

He gave into a little laugh too, even though his pride was bruised. 

“I don’t think I can fix” gesturing to his pants between small snickers. 

“Guess it's time for you to make me some skivvies.” 

Quaritch hated to admit, he really did but Vira had been right about his clothing being noisy. He felt ridiculous having his ass out in the jungle but on the other hand he felt like deadly silence as he moved swiftly through the trees, raining death from above with his bow to unsuspecting Hexapede, his prey of choice. He even managed to say the prayers over the bodies when he made a kill that Vira taught him without his voice dripping in sarcasm or rolling his eyes. Vira had yet to proclaim any of his conquests yet to be what she deem a clean kill, she said she still didn't feel he meant the words and would repeat the prayer after him so earnestly it tugged at something deep in his chest. 

While he did not believe in the tree god, no matter how often she tried to demonstrate the miracles or give him proof. The pink Na’vis faith was palpable, something pure, something to be admired. A devotion he’d never seen before and couldn’t fully comprehend.  Miles did admit there was something strange in the woods, something about it all. He did feel believe in what Grace Augisitbe had said about life being connected, he'd believe that since they'd drank the nectar in the woods but a diety? He could not stand all the circle of life. tree hugging crap. It was too much, a step too far for him.

Miles had been wearing the traditional Na’vi clothing for well over a week, he still marked the days but he’d have to count the marks to have any idea how long he’s been there. Maybe 20 or 25 days if he had to throw a number off the top of his head. Vira had added a new etching of him shooting the bow from a branch. The days in the jungle seemed to blur together and he found he didn’t hate it. Just like he didn’t hate the loincloth, or Tweng as Vira called them. She’d used his shirt and pants as the base materials of the ones he wore, each mostly the soft green of his shirt with a single thick strip threaded through the hide ties down the center of camo. It was a nice touch.

Vira has apologized to him for the size of the loincloth, the tweng, she’d said it was a bit smaller than she would have liked to make but he was rather large, even for a Blue. She’d explained in a more eloquent manner that her people, the Tayrangi, tended to cover their asses a little more than the clan Sully had joined but he found himself not minding and feeling more adjusted to the clothing. Each clan had different clothing customs, some wore intricate beadwork, others made clear armors, some made entire outfits just of leaves and flowers. While Quaritch had never been one to care about clothing as a human, always choosing functionality over any kind of fashion, learning the social customs around them for the different clans was at least mildly interesting. 

When he first started wearing the tweng he had continued to wear his belt and gun holster but felt it left him unbalanced when he made his way through the trees, which is exactly what Vira had told him the first time he’d put it on. He’d worn it a few more days just to spite her but but ultimately Miles had since abandoned the RDA standard issue holster and weapons days ago, leaving them somewhere back at their tree camp. 

He’d come to value Vira’s opinion, it was hard for him not to get annoyed and be gruff towards her at times with how often she proved him wrong but he reminded himself this forest moon was her home. She’d had a lifetime of living this way. He’d only been living this way for a few weeks. Qauritch was used to being the one barking orders and teaching new recruits, he scarcely remembered being a Boot himself it was so long ago. 

The recombinant Na'vi had come to appreciate her as a teacher, overall she was patient even when he got frustrated. She’d get a little pissy if he messed up too many times on his Na’vi, saying he knew better. Most of the time she was right,  he did know better and was just screwing up to push her buttons. More days than not she spoke to him in Na'vi now, he could understand her but did not always come up with a reply in the alien language and reverted to English. Her English was more than sufficient to understand what he said and parroted most of his phrases back to him in Na'vi. There were things he knew he'd never stop saying in English, they got lost in translation like the Recom Na'vi's pet names for his pink na'vi teacher, swears, and phrases. He couldn’t help himself.

To his surprise, Vira actually enjoyed some of his more colorful language in English and adopted saying them in his native tongue rather than her own.

They were hunting hexapede today and explored the jungle through the upper branches. Miles felt as though he was starting to know this part of the jungle just as well as Hellsgate or Bridgehead city, maybe even better. In the short time they’d been staying here, he and Vira had found common hunting grounds that he knew like the back of his hand. His movement through the branches was better every day. Miles felt himself getting stronger and moving with more ease, all of it becoming second nature and natural. He still needed to master swinging on the vines but he’d improved a hell of a lot since he fell and ripped his pants. 

From behind he watched as Vira’s little lithe body moved instinctively through the branches as though she was part Prolemeris. It never failed to impress him really how easily she moved from running to jumping to swinging on the vines in fluid movements. Miles closed the distance behind the small pink form he’d playfully tug on her tail. It’d become a game they often played when he walked behind her.

Vira turned to playfully hiss at him and slapped his hands away from her tail, shushing him playfully before speeding up to avoid him being able to tug at it again, as they hit all their normally hunting spots.  When they saw no Hexapede from the branches they took to the ground to look for tracks. 

Miles was surprised when Vira ushered him ahead of her letting him take the lead, choosing to follow behind him like a silent pink shadow. Even if he couldn't see her, he could smell her scent with his sensitive Na’vi nose, that syrupy scent that was just her. Even though they bathed before a hunt he could still always smell her natural odor underneath those slightly perfumy, lavender-like herbs. With each passing day Qauritch felt he became more and more aware of the cloying odor. Sometimes Miles found himself sniffing the air, seeking the scent. He wondered how between her overwhelming smell and the pink coloring she didn't get gobbled up by something. 

Miles remembers thinking before he could track her by scent anywhere within 100 clicks with his new and improved sense of Na'vi smell but he was starting to be damn near sure he’d be able to find her anywhere on Pandora.  That smell was forever ingrained into his senses.

Sometimes he swore he sought out her scent.

They padded quietly on the lush jungle floor, he knelt to observe the freshness of the tracks when a savage yowl filled the silence of the jungle. Miles turned around to face Vira, his ears swiveled, straining to discern where the sound came from and what it was. 

“Nantang”  Vira whispered, her orange eyes lighting up as a second strangled howl echoed through the forest. Why she was so excited to see a Viperwolf he couldn't fathom. He reflexively touched the side of his face which was now absent scars he’d gotten from one of his very first day on pandora.

“Za’u”  Come. She beckoned quietly, now laying on her stomach and started doing an army-style crawl on knees and elbows, keeping her small body low to the ground through the brush and towards the animal's pained cries.

Miles shrugged and slung his bow over his shoulder and joined her in crawling through the underbelly of the jungle, the back of his mind told him this was foolish and dangerous. This was not Kansas, this was Pandora.

“Are you sure you want to go in that direction?" He couldn't help but question her judgment. "Of that thing? They're meaner than a two-headed snake.”

She whipped her pink face around, cheeks slightly puffed out in annoyance white curls flailing as she held a finger to her lips to silence him. She moved her head in a gesture that he took for him to move closer. Miles dragged himself forward so their shoulders touched as they both laid belly down in the grass. 

Vira extended a petite pink finger towards an opening in the brush. Quaritch narrowed his yellows and saw that she was pointing towards a pair of Viperwolves, a larger male standing protectively over the smaller female that lay on the ground, letting out mournful, agonizing howls.

Miles understood immediately why Vira’s orange eyes lit up like fireworks to go get a closer look at the creature. The bitch was whelping, that's what those long, mournful cries had been for. He glanced between the Viperwolf pair and Vira, he saw the large male lean down over her every so often to give his bitch supportive licks on her muzzle as she let out her howls pierce through the jungle with quickening succession. Of course Vira had wanted to see the puppies, some things didn’t change even across species Miles mused to himself. She laid beside him clasping her hands together, whispering as gently as the rustle of the wind a little prayer in Na’vi repetitively. 

“Oh great mother, please let our sisters' labor come quick and safe. Let her and her mate have many healthy pups.”

They came quickly just like she prayed for alright, before he knew it Miles had lost count of how many pups there were but he figured at least five or six. They were a lot less threatening than their parents with their bright pink ears, yet to darken as they grew and matured. 

Vira and Miles sat in silence as they watched mom and dad lick each one clean of afterbirth and a few of the pups playfully nipped at each other's long ears. Quairtch couldn’t deny they were pretty cute. His yellow eyes looked over to Vira, she rested her pink cheek against her hand, a wistful look on her face as she stared at the infant Viperwolves. 

“Gotta admit, they’re pretty cute” he half whispered half drawled but he wasn’t looking at the pups anymore, he was looking at Vira. “For being little shits.” 

He ever so slightly stuck his tongue at her. 

That pulled her from her dreamy gazing and she lightly batted at his shoulder, not wanting to attract the attention of the proud parents.

 “You're the shit.” she whispered back to him with a big smile on her face. 

Miles let out a quiet laugh at his foul language rubbing off on the pink Na’vi. He clutched his chest over his heart in mock pain.

“You wound me, princess, here I thought we were sweet on me.” 

Her face flushed and she gave him a playful shove but didn't say anything, starting to creep backward from the pair of Viperwolves and their little brood back towards the game trail. 

Miles sat there for a moment, was he really flirting with the little pink Na’vi? 

He then gave a small sniff to the air out of instinct as she backed slowly away from him.

Not for the first time Miles thought to himself, what the hell was he doing? 

--

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Word count: 1500+ Rating: mature, 18+ only Outline: “Mand'alor” Din Djarin x “You” (petite female reader, clumsy, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”) Warnings: curse words and vulgar language; Din picking you up; two clothed spanks on the bottom; undressed Reader/clothed Din; one erection; Din’s roaming hands; Din touching you through your panties; one instance of Din grabbing your chin; mentions of blow jobs; mentions of P/V sex; mentions of bare-bottom spanking; mentions of sex in the throne room with possibility of getting caught; Din’s got a filthy mouth

You fumbled and dropped something for what felt like the millionth time that day, cursing under your breath. You stopped in the dusty road, shifting your bags around, trying to redistribute them so you could free your hand to pick up your parcel from where it lay in the dirt.

The air was hot and dry, and you wanted nothing more than to get back to the ship and take a shower, wash off the dust of the town. You didn’t mind accompanying your husband to his various diplomatic meetings and conferences, especially the ones on jewel-like tropical planets or at breathtaking palaces perched on mountain ridges. But this stop was different, a sudden detour on the way home... and from the hunch of Din’s shoulders as he landed the ship, and the way he suggested you go shopping in the street market while he held his “meeting” you could guess that it wasn’t on the official roster for his week. You hoped that he would at least come back to the ship in one piece.

You retrieved your parcel and tucked it under your arm, huffing in exasperation. You rounded the corner and finally saw the ship, gleaming in the hot sun. Your face broke into a smile as you saw that the ramp was down, meaning Din was probably inside getting ready to start the last leg of the journey home.

You hurried a bit, arms laden with bags and packages, and then disaster struck. You were just a meter away from the ship when your sandal caught the long hem of your dress, and you tripped. Parcels and their contents went scattering, although the worst of your fall was broken by your large cloth bag. You lay there for a moment, stunned, and then looked up to see Din walking down the ramp.

“Are you okay, cyar'ika? That looked embarrassing.” His voice held concern with a note of amusement. Din was used to your various scrapes and entanglements, and you thanked the stars every day that Mandalorians valued intelligence and grit far above poise and grace, even in their queen.

You huffed out a groan and pushed yourself off the ground, grasping one of Din’s large gloved hands for assistance. Din stooped to gather items as you brushed yourself off, striding back up the ramp to deposit your things inside the ship. The front of your dress was caked with dirt, and no amount of swatting it with your hands would do. You sighed and gave up on cleaning yourself. You picked up two oranges that had rolled a few feet, and then started up the ramp.

Din came down to meet you, and you stopped to let him look you over.

“Are you hurt, cyar'ika?” His voice was softer now, full of love and concern. Din held your face in his hands, tilting your chin up to have a look at you in the bright sun.

You smiled and swatted his hands away, laughing. “I’m fine! It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t stopped on this godforsaken planet, but someone decided they had business to attend to.”

Din tilted his helmet back a bit, that imposing stance doing nothing to intimidate you the way it had countless adversaries in his lifetime.

You put your hands on your hips and pushed your lower lip out at him. “Or maybe I wouldn’t have to do all this shopping if you had let me join you for your meeting.”

Din suddenly went still. “You know I can’t do that, cyar’ika. That meeting was dangerous.”

You decided to push him just a little. “Can’t have been too dangerous, if they sent you instead of m- oof!”

The words were barely past your lips when you felt your feet go out from under you and the world turned over. You found yourself hanging over Din’s shoulder as he turned to stride back up the ramp, his large gloved hand holding both your knees firmly so you wouldn’t fall.

“Hey!” You hated that your voice came out in a squeak. “Put me down!” You beat uselessly on his back plate with your fists, blood rushing down to your face as he carried you effortlessly.

Din snarled at you in Mando’a. “Udesii,” and his free hand came up to smack you on your bottom.

His voice was dark with just a hint of amusement. “Quiet. For being such a little thing, you cause an awful lot of trouble.” Another hard smack landed on your rear, and you felt your panties grow damp.

Din didn’t break stride as he whacked the control panel with the side of his fist to close the ramp behind him. He carried you into the cockpit and finally put you back on your feet, ignoring your indignation as he lifted off. When the ship was off-planet and set to autopilot, Din swiveled his chair to face you.

He pointed at you and growled an order. “Your dress is dirty, cyar’ika. Take it off.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies you pick up in dusty landing lots.” You laughed and put your fists on your hips.

“Now. I won’t tell you again.” His words struck you behind your sternum, the excitement causing your heart to thud harder, your breath coming all in a rush.

You paused for a split second, and then hurriedly undid all of the fastenings of your dress, letting it fall from your shoulders to the floor of the cockpit. You stepped out of your shoes and swept the pile to one side with your foot. You stood in just your underthings and canted your hips to one side, raising an eyebrow at your husband.

“See anything you like?”

Din snarled from under his helmet and curled a finger at you. You obeyed and started walking slowly over to him.

Apparently it wasn’t fast enough, because Din leapt to his feet and grabbed your wrist, pulling you the last two steps to his pilot’s chair. You collapsed onto his lap, your landing softened somewhat by one strong arm around your waist. Din scooped one hand under your knees and turned you sideways on his lap, tucking you against him and tilting his helmet to rest against your temple.

“I don’t like your sass, woman.” The words spilled out of his modulator right into your ear, sending a chill down your neck. The feel of his thigh plates against the backs of your legs was exquisite. Din kept one hand firmly around your hip, while the other trailed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps.

You shuddered a breath in, feeling your panties grow wetter. But you knew the ins and outs of this game, and how delicious it would be to play.

“That’s too bad, Din. You’re kind of stuck with me. I’m your riduur after all.” You giggled.

“Quiet.” Din wrapped his fingers around your jaw, pursing your lips out slightly. He ran one large, gloved finger over your lips and you playfully snapped at it, trapping the leather tip between your teeth.

“And she bites, too?” Din tsked softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

You released his finger and smiled. “I don’t know… what are you going to do with me?”

“I have a few ideas.” Din hummed thoughtfully. “I think as soon as we get home I’m going to take you to the throne room, bend you over my knee and smack your bottom until it’s so tender you can’t sit down.”

You gasped and squirmed on his lap, feeling more chills run up and down your skin with anticipation. Din’s fingers dug into your hip to still your movements.

“And when you can’t take any more, I think I’ll make you kneel down and take my cock into that lovely, wet little mouth of yours.” You felt Din’s erection start to harden against your hip, and you wiggled closer to him. He groaned once, softly, and you smiled to yourself in satisfaction.

“And- and then what?” You whispered, aching to be touched, aching for any kind of release that you could get. Din brought his free hand to your breast and you moaned. You heard him chuckle at that, squeezing the heft of your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“And then I’ll make you sit on my lap.” You felt Din’s cock twitch against your hip and you longed to fulfill every dirty fantasy he was spilling into your ear.

“I’ll bury my cock deep inside you while you face the room, hold your legs open and rub your clit until you come around me.”

Din worked his fingers harder over your nipple and you whined.

“You like that idea, mesh’la? Spread wide on my lap where anyone could walk in and see us?”

You couldn’t answer, only grind your hip sideways against his erection. Din plunged two fingers down between your legs and rubbed you through your underwear. You keened a high sound and squirmed as hard as you could against his hand.

“Oh, I think you do like that idea. Looks like you’re done mouthing off now, hmm?”

You sighed and rolled your head back, and let Din talk to you all the way home.

--- Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

JHFTM Main Masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @astoryisaloveaffair @fan-of-encouragement @nolanell @deadhumourist

2 years ago

I disagree. Ghost holds hands when he is eating you put to.stop you from squirming so much

I Disagree. Ghost Holds Hands When He Is Eating You Put To.stop You From Squirming So Much

A/N: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader. Oral. Wet stuff. He’s nasty.

Outside of their “moments,” Ghost won’t touch her unless he has to. He maintains a professional distance, and a part of her longs to stake her claim. Hold his damn hand, so the team understands how he gets on his knees for her or allows her to ride him.

He’s a legend to them. A myth. The lone wolf whose kill count is in the thousands. 

How many?

I don’t count ‘em. 

Oh?

I don’t lose sleep if that’s what you’re asking. 

They needle her, poke fun because she’s a woman, and it’s just so damn easy. Ghost never does, though. Ghost treats her like he treats everyone else with cool, stoic regard. 

Except when he fucks her. There’s that. 

***

It’s an uneventful night. The rest of the team is playing poker around a plastic card table. There’s smoke in the air from cheap cigars. Whiskey that’s sticking to her throat as she downs it. She leans against the doorway; arms crossed firmly over her chest. She should go to sleep. 

“Duchess.”

There he is. That voice matches the cigar smoke. It’s thick and impenetrable, and it licks up her spine. She feels his broad chest against her back, the heat of his bulk, and she wants the others to turn around and catch them. Sure it would appear like their lieutenant is simply chatting with her, but if they looked closely, they’d see...

He lowers his head so that his breath grazes her ear. “Needy, are we?”

She bites her lip, shutting her eyes. “No.”

“You may not believe I watch you, but I do.” If possible, his voice becomes even lower, dragging over gravel and full of suggestion. “I think about the sounds you make when I got my tongue inside you.”

She shudders, thighs squeezing together. Ghost’s pelvis shifts against her ass, and she restrains herself from leaning into his massive warmth. 

“It’s bloody distracting,” he exhales. “Tryin’ to give orders when all I can see is that wet little cunt in front of my face.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“They don’t see how I look at you,” he continues. “But that’s because it’s mine. What we do...what we have...that’s all mine, darling.”

She buries her nails into her forearm until it hurts. She glances at him over her shoulder, and he’s staring straight ahead like he hasn’t just confessed an intimate truth. He’s so close she can discern his blonde lashes, his deep sea eyes. They flicker toward her.

“Ghost,” she murmurs as he draws closer.

***

“Simon,” she moans, hips rolling against his face. He’s shoved his mask above his nose as he blows cool air against her cunt. He parts her folds and nudges his thumb against the swollen nub as she clenches down on nothing. His touch is practiced as he strokes and teases her. He slips his fingers inside her pussy before removing them. 

“Duchess,” he replies flatly, a flash of amusement like he enjoys wrecking her with as few gestures as possible. He holds her thighs open before he lowers his mouth and slides the flat of his tongue against the seam of her sex. She jerks, her foot knocking into the hard muscle of his torso.

“Easy, now,” he croons. “Stay still so I can eat you the way I like, yeah?”

One broad palm slaps gently against her inner thigh and pins it to the mattress. He sinks back down and buries his face into her pussy, lapping and sucking with a deliberate rhythm. He feasts, switching between his tongue and fingers. He crooks them inside her, thrusts in time with the soft sucks on her clit. There are the wet noises of her walls contracting around him. Ghost’s rumbling sounds of contentment as he tastes her. 

“Red,” he warns when she bucks against his face and potentially breaks his nose against her lower belly. 

“I can’t-I can’t help it,” she pants, and he sighs. It is impossible with the way he’s pulling pleasure from her. She feels like a naked branch in a storm, shivering and snapping against a glass window. Her muscles tense, her thighs twitch, and she can’t find leverage on this shitty cot. 

Finally, she feels warm flesh brush against her knuckles. She glances down as Ghost threads his thick fingers through her own. His hand dwarfs her fist as he pins it to the mattress. It anchors her body and allows her something to hold onto as she straddles the oncoming climax. She’s leaking all over him, slick running down her ass and staining the sheets. It encourages him. His hips grind into the bed, his pupils blown out as he watches her shudder; it feels so good. 

His thumb draws little circles against her hand as if to comfort her through it like this was a challenging task she had to win, an endgame for a mission. Her lungs are screaming - her heart thumps wildly against her ribs as the pleasure builds like a chemical reaction. Shocking. Overwhelming.

Tears prick her eyes. She swallows a sob as his stubble scorches her skin, his silky plush lips maneuvering against her cunt like he’s memorized it. Perhaps, he has. He's got a photographic memory, he handles her like he handles every precious weapon in his arsenal.

It’s coming - the pressure inside her core begins to cramp and fold until it slams right up against Ghost’s insistent mouth. 

“I feel it,” he groans as her walls spasm and her pelvis stutters against his chin. He tightens his grip on her hand, his other fingers sliding in and out of her soaked heat in an even, lazy drag.

“It’s - fuck - it’s too much,” she whines, and he doubles his pace, prepared to shove her off the damn cliff. 

“You’re a big girl, love,” he coaxes. “You can handle it, yeah? I know how good you are.”

That’s enough. Ghost’s praise that he hardly ever gives to anyone. It shoots her straight between the legs, where her cunt pulses and throbs like a wound. There’s so much pressure before everything is liquid. She feels wet, dripping, and when he rises to his knees, she is all over the lower half of his face.

He grins, straight, white teeth burning in the dark like a a crescent of stars, and she is momentarily stunned. She’s never seen him smile, or his teeth for that matter. She wants to lick them, taste them, and swallow him whole. The corner of his lips twitches like he knows what she’s thinking before he rucks the ski mask back down over his chin that’s gleaming with her slick. 

She sits up abruptly, reaching for him. “You can’t-”

“I can,” he grunts, flipping her onto her side and slapping her thigh. “Get your pretty ass dressed. We’ve got wheels up in thirty.”

3 years ago
☆ Giving Creators The Love They Deserve ☆

☆ giving creators the love they deserve ☆

Just thought I’d show my support for all of the wonderful fic writers on here that share their lovely creations with us—for free. What you do is a joy to be a part of, and I want to say thank you for everything you contribute ❤️

Below the cut, there are “smut”, “fluff”, “angst”, and “series’ + series’ with au’s” recs, categorized so that you can find exactly what you’re looking for! Happy reading, everyone 🥰

(This is long and I actually hit the tag limit? So, I wasn’t able to include everything I wanted to 😭 but I will potentially make a 2nd part to this in the future!).

Disclaimer: if you’re a writer, and your work is not listed here, please know that there are thousands of fics out there and it’s simply impossible for me to add them all or even come close to that number—please don’t take this personally. Also, please do not take offense if one of your favourite works is not listed; this is unavoidable. I did my best to find as many as I could, as well as try to have a variety of different topics and tropes being portrayed. Some author’s are repeated and various works of theirs are potentially listed under sections. Enjoy! (These are also in no particular order).

☆ Giving Creators The Love They Deserve ☆

Would You Let Me & You Were My New Dream (And You Were Mine) by @keeper0fthestars

Cuffs & The Soft Side by @honeymandos

Promise & Bliss by @auty-ren

You Deserve It by @catsnkooks

Thin Walls by @leo-moon

Hungry, Switch & Taste You by @hdlynnslibrary

Alleyways by @huliabitch

Taste So Good, Full Sabacc & Chaste by @tiffdawg

Kneel At My Alter by @filthybookworm

Magma by @oloreaa

Little Yellow Sundress by @aerynwrites

Good Vibrations, Golden Berries & Fire And Ice by @janghoefett

Hot Springs by @mandoalorian

All In by @buttercup--bee

So Pretty And So Good by @mandolovian

The Bet & Bred by @tibbietibbs

Release by @letterfromvienna

The Contract by @ollypopp

☆ Giving Creators The Love They Deserve ☆

Haircuts & Interwoven by @hdlynnslibrary

The Way You Put That Smile Upon My Face by @keeper0fthestars

The Softness Among Stars by @honeymandos

Pick Up Lines & Cold Fingers by @oloreaa

Touch & Ice Cold by @aerynwrites

Tender Kiss by @buttercup--bee

Close Quarters by @reluctant-mandalore

Bedside Manner by @janghoefett

Heavenly Bodies & Strings Attached by @mndalorians

☆ Giving Creators The Love They Deserve ☆

Blankets Over Barbed Wire + Evermore (part 2) by @mrpascals

No Living Thing by @hiscyarika

Trust Is A Fragile Thing & Reunited by @aerynwrites

Crossed Wires & Again, Again by @mndalorians

By Hand & Recrudescent (I’m Right Here) by @keeper0fthestars

Heavy by @hdlynnslibrary

☆ Giving Creators The Love They Deserve ☆

The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight series by @space-cowboy-din

Just This Once series by @mcfreakin-bxtch

Vencuyanir series & the Orbit series by @oloreaa

Redamancy series by @mrpascals

The Offer series (Clan Leader!Din AU) & the Waiting Up series by @auty-ren

Sparks series by @maybege

Migraine series by @leo-moon

Dusty Trails series (Old West!AU) by @hdlynnslibrary

The Light of Stars series by @tiffdawg

Silent Planet, Cradled Hands series by @corvueros

Borrowed Time series by @mandoalorian

White Rose series (Knight!Din AU) by @aerynwrites

Unheavenly Creatures series (Clan Leader + Mand’alor!Din AU) by @huliabitch

Miscommunication series by @mouthymandalorian

Take Me to Church series (Western!AU) by @frannyzooey

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker series by @mandoinevarro

Peace series by @sunsetkenobi

Thank you to everyone who wears their heart on their sleeve and is kind enough to share all their fantastic pieces of work with everyone ❤️

Your impact and reach here is larger than you know. This fandom would be nothing without all of us, and you’re all so very important—no matter what anyone says.

4 years ago

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2 years ago
❅ Title: christmas Morning With The Sawamuras

❅ title: christmas morning with the sawamuras

❅ pairing: dad!daichi sawamura x mom!reader

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings/notes: sfw. suggestive innuendo at the end. domestic fluff.

❅ Title: christmas Morning With The Sawamuras

You hear them before you see them.

“MOMMY! DADDY!” the children yell as they run towards your bed. “WAKE UP!”

There’s the sudden mmffph that’s forced from your husband’s lungs when the first girl lunges herself on top of his once-sleeping form, followed by a loud groan when your other daughter dogpiles both of them. The girls, aged 7 and 5, are accompanied by their 2-year-old brother who isn’t quite big enough to toss himself onto your king-size bed. You hear him whine as he tries to climb his way onto the bed, so you sit up and reach for him, smiling sleepily as you pull him up to join his sisters in terrorizing their father.

“Daddy! Wake up! Mommy, help us!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbles, opening one of his tired eyes to look over at the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark…” he says, reaching for his phone to check.

“IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS, DADDY!” your middle child informs him before your oldest chimes in. “THERE ARE SO MANY! WE CAN’T EVEN SEE THE FLOOR UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

By now, your little boy has crawled his way into your secure arms, both of you watching and giggling at the scene before you. There is a mess of little arms and legs and long, dark brown hair on top of poor Daichi. The love and adoration his daughters have for him is undeniable. He is technically awake, but not enough to satisfy the girls. The 5-year-old presses her little hands against his cheeks and squishes his face as she gets right up in it and yells into his mouth (as if that’s somehow going to make her louder), “DADDY, WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPP!!”

But it worked because now Daichi is laughing. “Alright, now you’ve done it!” he announces, his arms breaking free from the weight of his 5-year-old offender to tickle her sides as she tumbles onto the bed next to him in a ball of high-pitched squeals and laughter.

Finally, the children manage to drag their parents out of bed, the girls taking their father by the hands and whisking him away as your baby boy runs after them. You hang back long enough to put your cozy house robe on before walking into the living room where the oldest is ordering her Daddy to sit on the floor to watch them open their presents. After a big stretch and a scratch of his belly, he obliges. Even with messy hair and eyes watery with sleep, your husband is devastatingly handsome. 

“Mommy! You sit there next to Daddy!” 

“She’s almost as bossy as her father,” you muse to your husband as you make your way to the floor next to him.

“I’m not bossy,” he retorts groggily.

You raise your eyebrows at him and press your lips together to stifle the tempting ‘I told you so’ that desperately wants to be said when he starts laying down the law.

“Listen up, kids!” he says with a big yawn. “Here are the rules! All gifts must be handed to me first to see who they’re for! No opening each other’s gifts and no fighting over them either! Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chirp in unison as you kneel behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear with a nibble to the lobe.

“Watch it, angel,” he growls with a smirk before turning his focus back to your three crotch goblins.

“Go! Have at it!” he permits with a wave of his hand and immediately three gifts are eagerly shoved in his face. The kids practically dive under the tree like a bunch of wild savages, ripped wrapping paper and ribbons and bows flying every which way.

“Daddy,” your soft-spoken toddler says, holding out a box. “Help open, pwease?”

“Of course, buddy,” Daichi smiles, taking the box as his son sits on his lap. “Oh, babe…”

“Already on it!” you say, halfway to your bedroom to fetch his pocket knife from his nightstand drawer. Seconds later, you’re back, putting the tool in Daichi’s outstretched hand.

“You’re as handy as a pocket on a shirt, you know that?” he grins as you settle beside him on the floor again. “Thanks, babe.” He leans over to give you a quick peck on your smiling lips before turning to his little boy. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you sit in Mommy’s lap so I can help open your box, okay?”

“Nkay…” the boy beams as he climbs his way over to you. He watches intently as his father cuts through the tape before passing the box to him. His little hands awkwardly work the flaps open as his big, brown eyes widen when he sees what’s inside. 

“What is it?” Daichi asks with excitement.

“PIKACHU!” he says gleefully, beaming as he holds the plushie of his favorite Pokemon up for his father to see.

Outside, the sun is breaking the horizon as you and your husband treasure the sight of your three babies as they chatter and shuffle about with the occasional squeal of delight and the steady stream of “Mommy! Daddy! Look!” that accompanies the presentation of every toy and game.

In the midst of the chaos, time seems to slow down when your husband scoots closer to you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in his strong arms to brush his nose against yours and whisper “I love you”. You slot your lips with his to share a lingering kiss, broken only by your soft proclamation of the love you have for him. 

You’re both smiling against each other’s lips when Daichi says, “Thank you, baby.” 

“Mm…for what?” 

“For them,” he mutters, glancing over at your happy kids before kissing you again, more deeply this time, sneaking in a little tongue.

“EWWW GROSS!!” The two girls protest at the sight of their parents. “They’re sucking each other’s faces again!”

You and Daichi laugh quietly, your romantic moment interrupted. “Such as they are,” your husband jokes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you chuckle, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Daichi waggles his eyebrows at you with a wicked smirk. “Speaking of which…I’ll give you your present later.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip seductively. “What is it?”

With a small shake of his head, he says, “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Is it big?” you snicker.

He nods, his naughty grin growing wider.

“Is it hard?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“IS IT A BIKE TIRE??” your 5-year-old guesses loudly, sending you and your husband into a fit of laughter on the floor.

“No, honey,” Daichi wheezes, barely able to get the words out. “But your mom can certainly ride it.” 

“DAICHI!” you scold, playfully slapping his arm as your writhe on the floor with him.

Your daughter looks on with confusion, but eventually shrugs and rejoins her siblings in their pile of presents.

❅ Title: christmas Morning With The Sawamuras

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

❅ tagging: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @millenialfanfictionaddiction @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @hannas16 @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @whinestonecowgirl @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs @patheticliesblog @strawbmarma @lomons ++ get added

❅ Title: christmas Morning With The Sawamuras
2 years ago
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

CHAPTERS: 0—1—2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 6.7K

CHAPTER 1: THE SIMPLETON; YOU.

"accept calls from strangers."

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

You are a hard-working citizen, you are straightforward, diligent, focused, and most of all. You don’t take anyone’s shit.

Since a young age, you harbored grand aspirations of collaborating with the renowned hero Dynamight. Even during your high school years, witnessing the fledgling hero proclaims his ambition to become the top hero to millions of viewers on live national television deeply resonated with you.

He was a hero you admired deeply, whether that was in combat or in any other position.

Driven by an intense desire to be in close proximity to the fiery and passionate hero, you applied yourself with unwavering diligence. Night after night, you immersed yourself in rigorous study, methodically reviewing each cue card until the ink was exhausted and the pencils were rendered brittle from the forceful strokes onto your notebook.

Before you knew it, you graduated college majoring in hero analysis with a minor in communications.

the first few years after college were hard, without any significant connections, you had little to no experience beforehand to get any major positions in well-affiliated agencies.

Pizza for breakfast and granola bars for dinner, staying up for days and sleeping fewer nights. Going to countless amounts of intervals, passing trial after trial.

yet denied, denied, denied.

you began to lose hope, you felt that all the hard work you did was for nothing. You were fearful of the eventual future set in place for you. A dead-end office job at some random corporate office that could barely pay the bills, "comfortable" housing, and an urge to die because you never lived up to your expectations.

On a rain-soaked day in Japan, a biting chill permeated the air as the relentless downpour battered your umbrella, the droplets cascading off its surface with effortless ease. As you made your way from yet another failed interview, the weight of repeated rejection hung heavily upon you.

This time, however, you didn't feel particularly upset about it. The hero's demands were simply unreasonable, and you had no intention of acquiescing to such outlandish requests. After all, the hero's accomplishments were hardly noteworthy and their reputation was far from impressive. Barely reaching the top 100 rated heroes in Japan, he wasn’t worth any second of your time.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged out into the bustling streets of Japan, surveying the sea of faces before you with a critical eye. Among the throngs of people passing by, you observed carefree children strolling hand in hand with their parents, and trendy teens sporting high-waisted shorts and fishnet stockings, flaunting their disregard for the curfew that surely awaited them.

The distinction between the two groups of people made you notice something, you either abide by the rules or defied them. So then what were you?

You were the simpleton of course, sadly...

Like so many others trudging along these rain-soaked streets, you found yourself caught up in the unrelenting hustle to secure a job that would never truly fulfill you. Your expression was weighed down by the burden of this unending search, with a heavy heart and a growl in your stomach. you absentmindedly made your way into a nearby ramen shop.

the chill of the rain subsides to the warm embrace of the restaurant. Bustling voices of citizens and the loud clanks of kitchenware. you were greeted by the workers and you bowed.

setting your things down at an absent table, you look over to the ordering tablet. clicking a couple of buttons, you ordered your meal. Before you could sulk in your seat, your phone buzzes.

Jolting in surprise, you pick up the phone to read the contact name:

UA WORKFORCE CORP.

Your eyes lit up with unbridled joy and a rush of adrenaline surged through your body. The reason for this sudden surge of excitement was none other than the prospect of being selected as a trainee with UA Corporations, whether it be through the prestigious school or one of the legendary hero agencies affiliated with it. It all began last year when you submitted your application, and the possibility of this dream finally becoming a reality now had you feeling electrified.

Around a couple of months, you've passed through multiple rounds of other people who have applied for the position. Interview after interview, test after test, you knew that if you got the job you'd be on the track that led you to your dream.

"hello!" you said excitedly.

"yes, hello, is this l/n y/n?" a woman says on the other end of the line. You quickly confirm your identity with the woman. "hello there, I'm here to give you acknowledgment of the results of the final round pick for the UA CORP. affiliates position." the woman's voice rang through your phone, heart beating fast...breath staggered your reply.

"y-yes?" you stuttered.

"Yes, l/n, I'm sorry to inform you--"

[CALL ENDED]

With a swift press of a button, you ended the call, tears streaming down your face as you lowered your head to the table. Your body was wracked with sobs, each tear that fell causing your breath to catch in your throat.

why are you not good enough?

As the weight of reality bore down on you, your tears flowed even harder, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow. Was all your hard work for so reason? Are your dreams non-attainable? Is this just not the past you're destined to take?

After a moment, you sat back up in your seat, heedless of the tears and makeup staining your white button-down shirt. With red-rimmed eyes, you reached for your phone and began to scroll through Google, determined to find some sort of solution to the crushing blow you had just been dealt.

'office jobs near me.'

biting your lip, you try and stop your lip from quivering. you felt as if you were destined for despair since you were a child.

Like so many others, you too idolized heroes when you were a child, running around your house with makeshift masks and capes that resembled the same heroes you watched on TV. Full of youthful hope and possessing a fairly decent quirk, you dreamed of one day joining the ranks of these legendary figures.

Fast forward a few years, and you found yourself in middle school. After a long day of classes, you trudged your way back home, collapsed onto your bed, and drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to take on whatever the next day had in store for you.

but the only thing is, you didn't wake up.

you didn't wake up for another three days to be exact. when you finally awoke in the hospital, your parent broke the news to you. You seemed to catch a very rare parasite, this parasite can leave the host sickly with fever, very drowsy, and worst of all...

quirkless.

The following week at school, you shared the news with your classmates: you were essentially quirkless now. But instead of receiving words of encouragement and hope, you found yourself labeled an outcast by everyone around you.

"the girl who lived, but at the cost of her quirk."

Years later, the news still shook you to your core, and you couldn't help but feel stunned. present day, you've noticed that you could still use your quirk from time to time. around 10 times a year, your quirk would come and go in little spurts. but as time grew long, you became accustomed to not using it for a long time, so you never did.

so now here you were, alone, quirkless, and a soon to be slave to the corporate world.

cheeks stained with mascara, eyes red, and head pounding, you look over to the ordering tray, sliding out the hot ramen ready to be consumed.

"at least this ramen can make me feel better," you mumbled to yourself. Taking the large bowl from the tray, you set it out on the table and began to dig in.

As you eat, you begin to scroll ok your phone looking for regular office jobs…

Manager at printing company? No.

Office associates needed at tech company? No.

Receptionist at steel company? No way.

Senior communications analyst? What?

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Deny, deny, deny!

This can’t be your reality right? How are you going to break this down to your parents?

Deep in thought, you didn’t even realize that someone slid in your booth. Tapping away on your phone, you open your messages.

Group chat: Mom & Dad

you: hanging in there! So close!

letting out a sigh, you open the camera app. Looking at the screen you see yourself, torn up from the floor up. Eyes a faint pink contrasting from the red they were a few moments beforehand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you quickly tap your screen to flip your camera.

Flipping your camera, you stare at the screen. A man appears on the other side, as he looks at the camera in embarrassment.

Eyes widening you gasp, “Excuse me, but there’s other seats around,” you try to sound as nice as possible, but why should you be nice if today hasn’t been so nice to you back?

The man was covered in black from head to toe, black hood on tight, as he looks at you. Black-shaded glasses and a matching face mask on him.

“Um, can I sit with you please?” He says.

Rolling your eyes, you become irritated, “no. now if you can please move–“

“Please, I can’t sit alone, people will notice me!” He whispers, body leaning in towards you, jolting backward, you frown in confusion.

“What?” You say, tone cold and filled with irritancy.

“Um…listen this is the only time I’ve got to myself, and I love this place! And if people see me alone then they’ll notice me, so can I just please sit with you?”

Blinking rapidly, you grew quiet.

Looking around, you see no one looking toward you or the mysterious man ahead of you. Looking back, you then sink into your seat. Grabbing your face with your hands, you soon let out a deep sigh.

“Sure, fuck it, go ahead, this day can’t possibly get any worse!” You laugh to yourself. This makes the man’s head tilt.

“May I ask why your day is bad?” He says. Removing your hands from your face you give him a deadpan look. Licking your lips you sit up from your chair and grab your utensils.

Stirring your noodles around you let out a dry chuckle, “Let’s just say things never go the way I want them to—and there’s also a random man in front of my face when I could really like being alone at the moment…the small things.”

You say, sarcasm drenched with every word you spoke. This makes the man laugh, “Sorry your day has been shit.”

Leaning into his seat, you crossed his arms. “Maybe I can make your day better? Go ahead, have at me,” the man says.

Letting out an irritated sigh, you confess.

“The only thing that can make me happy at the moment, is if you can somehow give me a job at UA Corp.”

You chuckle, the utter impossibility of what you just said made it humorous. “Really?” The man says. “Really,” you replied back.

“I think I can do that,” he says, his tone relaxed and suave—he sounds as if he can in fact…do that.

“As if,” you snort.

“You wanna make it a bet?” He says, his tone was playful and a tad bit flirtatious. “I can get you to work for the top pro-hero’s in the country, all I need to do is make the call.” He says as every word falls off his tongue with no effort.

This peaks your interests.

“You don’t say?” you reply back.

“Who do you want to work for sweetheart? Just give me any name.” He says.

“Okay…Dynamight, I—I want to become a secretary! That’s the position!” You say, your tone desperate and hopeful.

The man smirks behind his mask, “Okay.” Pulling out his phone, he hands it to you. “Give me your number, you’ll be getting a call soon.” He says, biting your lip you grab the phone and do as he says.

You're well aware of the dangers of blindly accepting what strangers say; it's like common sense 101. And yet, here you are, drawn towards a man who's covered in black from head to toe. It's not the smartest move, but there's just something about him that makes you want to place your faith in him. You can't quite put your finger on it - maybe it's the intensity of his gaze, or the air of mystery surrounding him - but you can't help but feel a strange attraction towards him. It's a risky move, but sometimes you just have to trust your gut, even if it defies all reason.

“Do you promise?” You spoke softly, this earns a chuckle out of the man, “Of course! You’re making a deal with a god—not a devil.”

As you gaze into the stranger's dark eyes, you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. There's something about him that doesn't sit right, and whatever god he may or may not represent, he's not exactly acting like one. But despite your reservations, you continue to chat with him, and as the conversation flows, you begin to let your guard down. Eventually, you find yourself sinking back into your seat, pouting slightly as you polish off the rest of your meal. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's just something about this mysterious man that's drawing you in, despite all the warning signs.

You're not quite sure how to process the choices you've made, given how impulsive they were. It's not exactly the wisest decision to act on a whim fueled by intense emotions, but you simply didn't give a damn. Life's been pretty rough lately, and if things are already this bad, then why not make them even worse? That seems to be your thought process, as you ride the waves of your tumultuous feelings, consequences be damned.

throwing your utensils into the empty bowl, you gather your things and shuffle out of the booth. Standing before the mysterious man, you frown. "are you going to eat anything?" you ask.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna eat somewhere else...you've made me have a taste for something else." Soon, the man jumps out of his seat and walks away, brushing past your shoulder with ease.

Astonished, you look back and watch the man leave out the restaurant in a hurry.

What just happened?

for the rest of the day, you carried yourself through your regular routine. eat, think, cry, repeat. As day turned to noon, and noon falls tonight...you grew anxious for a reply from the mysterious man you met earlier today. Heart pounding and blood running cold you sit in your apartment kitchen, your phone a couple of feet away from you on the kitchen counter. As you were sitting on the other side, the wooden chair creaked with every movement you made.

You didn't know what to think of the situation before you, looking around the apartment, the shadows grew as you fell deeper into the times of night. Looking at the clock, it read 10:39pm.

Letting out a sigh, you rise from your seat and grab your phone. you head into your bedroom, crashing onto your bed (that could be softer) you lay and stare at the ceiling.

"Is this my life now?" you questioned yourself.

You purse your lips and shut your eyes tight, hoping to drift off into slumber and escape the terrible day that's left you feeling like crap. Sleep seems like the perfect distraction - a chance to shut out the world and forget all the stress and negativity that's been weighing you down. With a deep breath, you try to clear your mind and let yourself sink into the warm embrace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

RING RING RING RING

the sounds of your phone sound an alarm through your body, shooting up from your bed you scramble to your phone. breath staggered and heart pounding, you reach for your phone and read the contact number.

ANONONYMUS CALLER

eyeing the phone more, you read the time. 5:57am? It's way too early to be answering calls...but you knew this call could be important. Taking in a deep breath, you answer the phone.

"h-hello?" you say, you breathed hard onto the other end. Anticipating the voice on the other end of the phone. A moment has passed by, the phone still attached to your ear, you sit on your bed waiting for someone to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" you ask again, you hear nothing but static on the other end. Swallowing your spit, you curse and begin to end the call.

"l/n, isn't it?" a familiar voice rang out, eyes widening you press your ear back onto the phone. "yes! This is she!" you softly exclaimed.

"you've got the job, I'm sending you the location of where you need to be...meet me there at 8:30am sharp not a minute before, not a minute after. Do you understand me?" the voice rang cold, monotone, and raspy.

your heart was jumping out of your skeleton at this point, unable to refuse, you complied. "Okay! Thank you again, for helping me...whoever you are," you say.

"Don't mention it, you'll know who I am, and soon everything will fall into place," maybe you were hearing things, but you could hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

before you could reply, the phone disconnected from the call. you couldn't believe it. "I'm working for Dynamight?" you say aloud, in disbelief. A smile etched onto your face, but you soon wiped it off.

Standing from your bed, you began to pace. "let's not celebrate now y/n, there are still many factors that need to be noticed..."

factors which are:

where is this location?

this could be a trafficking scam

you could be dead in a couple of hours

but what if it was real?

The power of belief was astounding - it seemed that the mere possibility of something being real outweighed all other considerations tenfold. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you prepared to head to the location, eagerly zooming around your room to fix your hair and makeup. You even practiced your best customer service voice, running through lines and mentally rehearsing how you would handle different scenarios. All that mattered was making a good impression, and the prospect of the unknown made your heart race with anticipation.

"How can I help you Mr. Dynamight?" "Your meeting is scheduled at this time Mr. Dynamight" "Would you like any coffee Mr. Dynamight?" you in your sweetest voice possible. Giggling in excitement you reach for the bottom drawer of your dresser.

Pulling the drawer, you smile with excitement. "The time has come, you're finally getting what you deserve." Looking down at the clothes before you, you planned on wearing this outfit for the first day on the job.

You expected to find your outfit covered in cobwebs when you pulled it out of the drawer, but to your surprise, it was in impeccable condition. Not a single wrinkle marred the pristine fabric, and there wasn't a single stain to be found. You had ironed and steamed everything to perfection, determined to look your absolute best. Your outfit was the epitome of sophistication - a classic white button-down paired with sleek black work pants and matching heels. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as you admired yourself in the mirror, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead.

throwing your clothes on, you read the clock, 7:51am. eyes widening, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time before grabbing your things and rushing out the door.

flagging down a taxi, you hurriedly give the driver the location. your heart leaped from your chest once more when you read the location details on the screen.

DYNAMIGHT RIOT HERO AGENCY ©

this is seriously happening? you thought to yourself.

"you work there ma'am?" the taxi driver asks. a new rush of pride washes over you, "yes, I do...it's my first day." you say, a shy smile paints over your face. "congrats, I heard it's not so easy getting a job at places like that, my niece tried to work there but got denied after 2 years of interviews."

"wow," was the only word that could come out of your lips.

"how'd you get in? connections?" he pries. "um...you could say that, but I think I got here out of pure luck, you wouldn't believe it." You chuckle, the man smacks his lips at your reply, obviously upset at your success. Forming your mouth into an "oh," you sit back in your seat and look away from the man.

The silence between you and the man lingered awkwardly for what felt like an eternity, as the taxi sped on for the next 20 minutes. You were relieved to finally see the agency's headquarters looming up ahead, massive in size and bold in color. The building stood tall, almost like a skyscraper, with bright hues of red and orange radiating from its walls. Your eyes widened in amazement as you watched countless people streaming in and out of the entrance, going about their day-to-day business. As the taxi slowed to a stop, the driver tried to navigate his way toward the front of the building, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nervousness at what lay ahead.

"thank you!" before the taxi could even stop, you jump out of the vehicle. Throwing your total amount for the ride into the car, you slam the door and rush towards the building. Clutching your briefcase tight, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Before stepping forward, you feel your phone vibrate. It's another text from the man you met yesterday.

ANONYMOUS:

walk into the building and head straight into the right elevator by the bathroom, when you get in go to the 21st floor.

when you get there, there will be a front desk. ask for red. tell them your name, and they'll know who you are.

a lady will lead you into a room, wait there until further notice.

"here goes nothing," putting the phone away you do as you were told and walk into the building. you were absolutely astonished by the size of the first floor, to the point where you became overwhelmed. businessmen and woman hustling to their destination, mascots dancing to the faint music, trying to stay on the beat but the sound of children screaming in amusement drown out the tempo. tour guides leading the way for curious visitors.

this place was a workplace war zone...

letting your heels carry you away, you head towards said elevators. you waited patiently in line to enter the elevator. looking at the elevators, you look at the vinyl art on it. It's a picture of Dynamight and his partner Red Riot, fists in the air and victorious smiles shining bright you read the quote on the elevator.

"work hard, grab victory by the throat, and win!"

very Dynamight coded, you'll say.

packing into the elevator like sardines, you notice there's an assistant there who presses the buttons. Do they seriously need a position like that here? "Floor 21 please!" you yell out. You notice the multiple workers give you an unreadable look, frowning you hang your head low in embarrassment.

after a good 3 minutes of waiting your turn, you finally reach your designated floor. squishing past the still rather large group of people, you take in a deep breath of fresh air. Holding your briefcase tight, you look back and thank the assistant.

"good luck, you'll need it," the assistant and everyone else in the elevator starts to burst into a fit of laughter. confused, you were about to ask why but the elevator quickly closed. adjusting your uniform, you bite the inside of your cheek.

"don't let them get to you y/n, this is your dream," you reassure yourself, stepping towards the front desk. you see a lady, her mid-forties at least. typing rapidly at her computer. "Excuse me, ma'am," you say softly, you watch as the lady's typing comes to a swift halt.

"yes?" she says, rather rudely, still looking at her computer.

blinking, a little bit held back from shock "Hi, I'm here to see Red? I-I'm l/n y/n." the lady soon lets out a chuckle, turning away from you, she opens up a drawer and pulls out a paper. pulling at the paper, she grabs a pen and writes your name down and hands you a name tag sticker.

As you examined the sticker more closely, you couldn't help but cringe at its childish design. Tiny caricatures of pro-heroes adorned the borders of the "Hi, my name is!" label, and you felt a pang of embarrassment as you peeled it off and quickly slapped it onto the left side of your chest, right over your heart. It was a small gesture, but it hurt your pride to have to wear something so unprofessional.

"Please walk into that room over there...and also, word of advice, you should start wearing all black," the lady smirks, taking her hands and running them down her body. showing you that she is in fact, wearing all black.

looking down at your white shirt, you face heats up from your embarrassment. "may I ask why?" you say. The lady continues to do her work, not even giving you a look of acknowledgement.

nodding, you give a polite bow and head into the waiting room. As you walk into the room, you're filled with shock. the room was quite large...but there was only one seat? Deadpan in the middle of the room, the metal chair sits unharmed. you laugh out of nervousness, the sight of the chair makes the embarrassment you felt merely seconds ago wash away.

walking to the seat, you sit and patiently wait. The sound of the fluorescent lights buzzing, at the white noise, fills your eardrums. you quietly tapped your fingertips against your briefcase to the imaginary beat in your head. looking around, all you see is the grey carpeting and white walls, and the tv straight ahead of you.

you waited for a good 30 minutes in silence, distracting yourself on your phone as you waited, and waited, and waited. You constantly kept checking your messages, hoping for another anonymous message. but was left with a dry phone.

letting out a sigh, you frown. "is this some joke?" looking around the room, you spot a security camera behind you in the corner of the room. it's blinking red light flashing into your eyes, turning around you ponder to yourself.

"This must be a joke, that's why everyone has been laughing at me this whole time. I should've never come here," defeated, you began to gather your things. As you stood up to head for the door, the lights soon cut off. you let out a yelp, hands extending out towards the chair, and you sit back down.

the tv you saw soon cuts on, a bright white screen shines and takes over the whole room.

"WELCOME L/N Y/N!" the screen says blankly, the text blinking on and off, if this was supposed to invoke excitement, it's doing the bare minimum. you stare at the screen and wait for anything else, but the screen soon goes black. another minute in the dark passes by as you sit in your seat absolutely dumbfounded.

the screen turns on again, this time there's faint music sounding from it. soon you see a random person on the screen, probably a paid actor. "hello there fellow newbie! Welcome to Dynamight Riot Hero's Headquarters! Today, I'll be with you along the ride as we both become secretaries!" the actress, obviously way too happy to be here inquiries.

after watching the 10-minute-long do's and don't's video, the screen blinks to white again. squinting your eyes at the right light, the black sans serif font shows on the screen again.

KEY REMINDERS:

DON'T TELL ANYONE YOU'RE A SECRETARY!

BE A GOOD WORKER!

ALWAYS BE ON TIME!

AND MOST OF ALL: WORD HARD!!

soon after the screen, turns off. a couple of seconds do by and the room lights flash back on, covering your eyes so that you don't get flash-banged for the fifteenth time. eyes still covered, you hear a door open and footsteps walk towards you.

uncovering your eyes, you look towards the floor to adjust to the bright white lighting. "so sorry, just give me a second!" you nervously chuckle. "don't worry, take your time!" the voice says politely.

wait, that voice.

it's the man you saw yesterday. your hand soon uncovers your eyes and you look up. "it's you-" eyes shooting wide, your hand flings to your mouth.

Red Riot?

"ah, guilty as charged! Happy to see me and not some creep aren't ya? You really need to have a better guard, I could've just been anybody!" he laughs.

a frown soon comes towards your face, "so you were the guy at the ramen restaurant? Why the hell was you there?" you growl. The pro-hero frowns playfully at your attitude.

"tone, little miss. that isn't a way to talk to your new boss. you know I thought we let in a complete stranger, you look so different when your face isn't soaked with tears and runny mascara." he jabs at you with a mischievous grin.

"What? Boss? Dynamight's my boss!" you argue. Red Riot rolls his eyes at your words, "Last time I checked my name is out on that building and in that shitty little video you just watched. and you're gonna wish you worked for me and instead of him by the time this day goes by."

your frown never left your lips, "can we start now?" you say.

"Sure! right this way!" he says, walking away from you, you hurriedly grab your bags and walk alongside him. before you could reach the door. the hero turns and blocks your way from seeing the other side.

"Also, um...wear all black next time." he says, his eyes travel down your figure, and you bite your lips in embarrassment. "why?" you ask. "Because it is a thing we do here, we want everyone to be seen as equals to us, we are all people here at the end of the day, hence we all wear the same thing. Plus, it's because we say so and it looks cool." he chuckles to himself at his last words, turning around he walks away.

As you walked into the office setting, you couldn't help but feel a sense of shock and disbelief. Everywhere you looked, it seemed like the people around you were robots going about their tasks with mechanical precision. Everyone wore the same drab black outfits, and you couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of strange joke.

The more you walked, you could feel the eyes of the other employees snapping toward you, their stifled chuckles and whispers following you with every step. It was as if they were all in on some kind of inside joke, and you couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this strange, black-button-down world.

As Red Riot led you around the office, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over you. Here you were, walking alongside one of the most legendary heroes of all time. It was hard to believe that this was actually happening - that you were standing in the same room as Red Riot himself. Despite your nerves, you couldn't stop smiling as you walked, eagerly listening to every word that he had to say. It was as if you were soaking up every moment of this incredible experience, committing it all to memory so that you could remember it forever. As you continued to explore the office, you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget.

"And here's our final stop! The boss's office, the one and only Dynamight's quarters" he says. "you'll be in and out of here often, so get ready for that," he chuckles. you quickly nod at his words, "before I let you in this room, do you have any questions?" he asks.

you shake your head no, licking your lips you look forward at the doors. The golden plate shined brightly as it read his name:

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT: かつき ばくご

"Alright then!" soon, the hero bangs on the door. "see you around, fresh meat! by the way, cute sticker" he laughs, walking away from you. You were left standing in shock, did he just leave you here all alone?

"Come in," you hear a voice say. eyes snapping towards the door. You let out a shaky breath. Grabbing the door handle you slowly twist. "don't be a pussy y/n, you wanted this!" you whisper to yourself. Pushing the door open, words couldn't express the emotions you felt at this moment. Looking at your one and only inspiration in front of you, in all his glory.

Dynamight!

The sun was rising outside, casting a golden light over the room and illuminating the blond hair of the number one hero. As he looked into your eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way that his amber irises seemed to glow in the light. It was as if he was lit from within, radiating power and confidence. You took a quick glance at his attire and noticed that he was wearing a simple black shirt and matching sweatpants. It wasn't exactly business casual, but who were you to judge? This man was the number one hero, after all. He could walk in wearing a clown suit and you wouldn't bat an eyelash.

"You're the new hire? Right?" he says, his voice deep and captivating, way calmer than what you've seen on tv as it is early in the morning. You nod your head, the hero guides his hand towards the open seat in front of his desk, you follow and sit in the comfortable leather chair.

"Yes, my name is L/n Y/n!" you spoke softly, "I know." He spits back, you blame it on the early mornings. "Here are some ground rules we need to set in place, firstly..."

As he continued to speak, you found yourself hanging on his every word, completely swept up in his presence. It was almost surreal to be sitting across from the pro-hero, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief. You quickly pinched your thigh, just to make sure you weren't dreaming.

As you looked at Dynamight, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Seeing him in person was a completely different experience altogether - and you couldn't help but think that he was even more attractive up close. Maybe it was the fact that he was being so soft-spoken with you at the moment. How many people had actually seen him like this before? You couldn't help but wonder if this was a rare occurrence, and you silently thanked the heavens and the stars above that you were one of the few lucky ones to witness it.

The way his muscles flex as he holds your résumé–

Wait, how did he get your résumé?

“Excuse me?” You chime in, the pro-hero hangs his head low for a moment. Lifting his head up, he lets out a sigh, “I don’t like to be interrupted…l/n” he says. “I’m sorry I just have a question,” you state.

“Shoot,” he says, sarcasm oozing from his tone.

“How exactly did you get my résumé?” You asked, “What? Did you think we weren’t going to do a background check on you? You could be some psychotic fan for all I fuckin’ know,” he says, the morning rasp in his tone sends you ablaze as heat rises to your face.

“Oh! Right, well I’m not so,” you awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah I know, you’ve gotta…pretty good lookin’ résumé here,” the hero flips through a couple of pages, confirming his words.

You couldn’t believe it, the Dynamight called you qualified for the job! “Thank you so much! It means a lot to me that–“

“Okay listen, l/n, it’s early in the morning, and me and my partner just came back abroad from a goddamn mission. So imagine how I feel sitting here at this desk talkin’ to you and filling out these papers instead of in my bed sound a fuckin’ sleep. I’m gonna need you to tone it down alright?” He says, his tone raises as he grows irritated at your chipper attitude.

Blinking you bow in your seat, “I’m sorry Mr. Dynamight!” You spoke softly. “Don’t call me that, please just…don’t.” The hero rises from his seat and walks towards the door, you quickly stand up and follow suit.

“What should I call you then?” You spoke, his back facing towards you, the man let out a deep sigh, his palm cradling his neck. Rubbing the sensitive spot as he quietly hisses in pain.

“Just call me Dynamight, I don’t need people to go around calling you a lost puppy looking for their owner with the damn honorifics,” he says.

A brief moment of silence enveloped the large office, as the sound of the ticking clock grew increasingly louder with each passing second. Suddenly, Dynamight broke the stillness with a deep, audible sigh, turning to face you with a look of slight exasperation on his face. It was clear that he had a lot on his mind and a lot to worry about. And it seems like you're not making it any easier.

“When you came up here to this room, I hope you noticed why everyone was laughing at you. I want you to take what you went through into deep analysis…l/n.” He says, his tone sharp and crude as his eyes bore into your being.

“Why’d you sit in that waiting room with only one fuckin’ chair? Eh?” He says, a hint of humor in his tone. Your frown at him, looking down you try to really think back as to what happened.

“I’m sorry, Dynamight—I’m not sure.” You spoke, this makes the hero frown. “The reason why—is because every Secretary that has worked for me has quit.”

oh.

Swallowing your spit, you nod understanding the real reasoning behind the dirty looks and laughs. “Every single secretary that has been under me quits in no less than three months has quit, you wanna know why? Because of me.” He says as a sinister smile tugs at his lips, almost as if he’s proud of it.

“Well…how do you know that I’m not different?” You mumbled. The hero lets out a chuckle, because—I got a feeling you won’t last a month. You can prance around here with your happy attitude and white button-down, but I and you both know that you’re supposed to wear black.”

Why the hell does wearing black matter so much here?!

“So you’ve already defied me once, you get three strikes, no if, and's, or but's about it. And we both know what happens when you get to strike three,” he says smugly. “Don’t we?” He asks.

“Yes…Dynamight, we do.”

You couldn't deny the fact that you were a little bit scared about what the future held for you here. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked through the office. You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, even if it meant dealing with a difficult boss or two. After all, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way, as long as it meant being able to take this incredible opportunity.

“Good,” he says, his smile drops and he soon opens the door, letting it slam onto the wall. This makes you jump, you quickly gather your things and foll

behind.

You watch as all the employees ride from their seats and greet the hero. But he doesn’t give as much as a mumble back in reply.

“You’re going to be following me around for the day, can you do that task?” He asks, you nod and speak, “Yes, Dynamight I can.”

You were happy to be alongside the hero, he was your inspiration, your happiness, your sadness, but little did you know from now on.

You’d hate his guts.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

HEY GUYS! Honestly did not expect for this to blow up, thanks so much for the kind words! ALREADY CLOSE TO 600 FOLLOWERS? It’s literally been two days you guys are crazy!! I wanted to make sure that I got this done by today, even though this literally took me forever to complete.

I have so much on the way, trying out a different format for my theme. Hope you guys take notice in it. Till then!

— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❤︎︎

❥ : @skeletonblush @smolbeanzzz @gold24fish @stablecreator93 @itgetzweird08 @xo-evangeline @akqsa-xxi @gaby-11 @suchagoodgirlxoxo @r-ans @hunny-hotline @superkittywonderland @jolynegf @sad0nion @nar00 @gingerbread-ginza @noxva08 @xaslieex

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.
8 years ago

If you like Supernatural you can talk about it with me

If You Like Supernatural You Can Talk About It With Me
4 years ago
Sign the Petition
Support the Equality Act
2 years ago

GOT BORED AND DID THIS😍

@beskarprincessjenny @klarex

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