#and if you have any questions then shoot them in the ask box
Note
[@distinguished-turtle-enjoyer ]
i actually have not stopped thinkin bout your bb!edit like,,,, its so good and scratches my brain right
how long have you been doin edits for? do have any tips for someone, who hypothetically, wants to start doin edits too? what programs do you use? how did you do the cool animated bits?
im so sorry for all the qustions 😭😭 i just think youre very talented and inspirational and i hope you have a good day ^_^
hi firstly oh my gosh you're literally so sweet i am gently shaking you i love you so much /p. secondly, i apologize for the long answer! (it's all under the cut. this got away from me. i'm so sorry apparently i have a lot to say.) (also you're so good about the questions i would constantly be asking one of my professors questions during class to the point where she said i didn't have to go "i have a question" every time i approached her)
i've been editing since 2016! around march/april, i think? loved it so much i went into film & video production in college as a major so i could do editing for a living. (i have done more motion graphics for my classmates than i have done edits outside of class assignments, BUT!)
the program i use is after effects - i started learning it when covid first hit the united states because i had nothing better to do with my time (other than music theory but i failed that bc my professor focused more on the history aspects than the actual theory soooo) and my ipad kept giving me the "no more storage" whenever i tried to use videostar lmao. (vs has, apparently, gotten a LOT of good updates, so if you're looking to start editing and have an ios system, i'd look into it! only downside is you have to pay for some of the cool stuff).
also the program i use for masking (i think i explain this later dwdw) is superimpose. i've been using it since 2014 and it's SO nice bc i can use my fingers to erase backgrounds & stuff instead of hoping i can get it to work correctly in ae or photoshop (photoshop my DETESTED i'll use it but i'll complain the entire time).
for people who want to start editing: tutorials on how your program works and how to do specific transitions are gonna be your best friend when you're first figuring things out! i forced a friend to literally walk me through how after effects worked when i was first figuring it out, and when i had swapped to videostar back in 2017/2018(?) i had watched a Lot of tutorials. that and played around a lot and figured things out on my own - which is also always a good way to start!! it's also totally valid to look at other people's edits for inspiration - most editors don't really care, as long as you don't flat-out remake their edit (some people don't like that!). i have a style insp folder on instagram where i save edits that i like so if i need transition ideas or i'm doing a different style, i can look there for inspiration. at the end of the day, as long as you're having fun with it that's all that matters!
also, starting simple is always okay!! my edits for a year were just me slapping gifs & video segments together on a timeline in cute cut pro bc imovie didn't load them lol & it'd crash every time i breathed. ++ it never hurts to ask people for feedback/constructive(!!!) criticism/etc! (also not to sound like everyone else but practice? good. it's so good. if i showed my 14/15y/o self some of the edits i can make now they would've passed out on the spot bc i was still trying to figure out transitions back then. programs can also sometimes make a difference in edits, but usually it's not super noticeable until you start getting to the Complicated Shit.)
a lot of popular programs i've seen are ones like video star (ios only), alight motion (android only), after effects (i recommend 🏴☠️ing it tbh, i only use it legally bc i had to use adobe programs for school), capcut, and i think some people still use sony vegas pro & maybe cute cut pro (i've heard it may have actually gotten better since i last used it in 2018)? i have no idea. programs also depend on whatever device you're using to edit on! since i've been using my laptop, i'm able to use after effects (it's computer-only), but when i used my phone/ipad to edit i used ccp & vs.
for the animation - it's a lot of cutting up the image and masking! more complex animations, like the one i had of leo walking down that red 'hallway' have several different layers that have been masked. (i removed the background & filled in the spot where leo originally was in two different apps - superimpose (taking leo out) & photoshop (filling in the bg)) in after effects, the way i've done this was mask out the specific thing i wanted to move (like an eye) and then put that mask on what i've called a "base" (not animated), and then stick a solid behind the base to match the color of the object. (some of my layers are not named appropriately; base 2 is the left arm & the four "SIX_[...]" layers are the mask/bandana tails)
an example of this would be for any of the eye blink animations i did! this (above) is the same shot, with and without the eye - since it's masked out and i have the background solid behind it, it doesn't look too unnatural/have a black outline/mass where his eye should be.
what it looks like without the solid layer behind it ^ (the red lines are from the null layers - ignore that)
this is what my timeline looks like if it's a more simplistic animation - the only five things being animated here are leo & raph's eyes. (there's only this many layers bc it's two characters in one shot & i was also animating their pupils - typically, an eye-blink animation is about 4-6 layers for me (solid, base, mask, & null to animate with, 6 if i'm animating both eyes & 4 if just one))
in after effects, there's this really cool tool called the puppet pin that one of my friends (lovingly) yelled at me for not knowing about - which. yeah fair she wasn't wrong it's SUPER useful in animating, provided you chop up your image first. if you don't it's a mess.
(separated by layer vs i should've really put the mask tails & leo's head on separate layers and didn't bc that was the 2nd to last animation i had to do and i was losing my mind bc i wanted to be done with the edit lmao)
the way people animate depends all on their style (there's two common ways to do blinking animation - having the anchor point at the bottom of the eye, or the middle of it) and the program they use. it's been a while, but i could probably tell you how to do some basic animations on videostar still even though i've been doing them in after effects for about 2-3years now. ALSO the best way to have an animation be noticeable is to over-exaggerate it/make them Big - which, yes, can mean 'breaking bones' and having the limbs be a little wonky at the start. (if you want it to be realistic though go Just to the point where it looks uncomfortable lmao)
uhm. again i am so sorry that this is so long i THINK this is everything? if not: my inbox/dms are always open if you ever want to ask more questions, wanna follow up on something, etc etc!! (also if you ever start editing please send me your edits!!! i'd love to see them <3)
#this got away from me im SO sorry (just put this in google docs out of curiosity. 1255 words. i am so sorry for the essay.)#uhm. ANYWAY YES like i said if you have any other questions feel free to reach out!!! i am always alway willing to help people out#with stuff like this!!! i can talk your ear off though if this wasn't enough proof of that /j#if nothing makes sense it's bc i'm responding to this at like. 5am my time. so. my bad if there's typos i'm so sorry#like i think i saw this ask at 4:40ish am and i'm still making sure i've got everything covered and its like 5:32am LMAO#me when i dont sleep bc i have no routine now#ask box pals#art creds in the screenshots to trubblegumm !! <- tagging to be safe#still in shock at the amount of positive feedback im getting from my bb!leo edit like oh my god you guys are incredible ilysm /p#sorry i discovered in the middle of typing out my tags that you can edit them now after you've hit enter where am i.#also this is offtopic so its down here but i am Not complaining about doing more motion graphics than actual editing.#a bitch has won two awards for their motion graphics at festivals and i've been doing them for a YEAR#(laughs in the first time i ever did a real one i won a student award. idk how. but i DID and i won the pro category this year <3)#it would be nice tho to do more editing for short films tho :( had a professor tell me i was good at it.#i should rly start using my camera and shoot my own stuff and edit it huh. maybe i will eventually i have a few ideas.#anyway. i need to stop rambling abt my experience as a film student and go to bed i apparently need to be up in the morning but idk WHEN
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:
1. No drugs.
2. No fights.
3. No pranks.
4. No problematic language.
5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)
6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.
7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.
8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)
9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day
10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel
11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.
12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.
13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.
14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS
15. NO EATING PEOPLE
16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.
17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?
18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!
19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)
20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.
21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”
22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.
23. NO DEALS ALASTOR
24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.
25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.
26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.
27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)
28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.
29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?
30. No building weapons/war machines.
31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)
32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)
33. Stop touching people ANGEL.
34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.
35. Respect boundaries.
36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.
36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.
37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”
38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.
39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.
40. NO EXPLOSIONS!
41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.
42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.
43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)
44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX
45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!
46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR
47. Don’t die.
48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.
49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!
50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP
51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!
52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”
53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.
54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.
55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.
56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.
57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)
58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”
59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.
60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.
61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.
62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.
63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.
64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.
65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.
66. Therapy. Everyone.
67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!
68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.
69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.
#stupid hazbin hotel lists#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel memes#hazbin hotel vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#vaggie#angel dust hazbin hotel#husk hazbin hotel#charlie hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin hotel#sir pentious#cherri bomb#niffty#hazbin hotel crack#chaggie#huskerdust#angelhusk
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters
Genshin x Fem!Reader
Genre: ☁️
Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!
featuring: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham
synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!
Notes: you are immortal in Neuvillette's part, you are a bad bitch in Wriothesley's part, you are part of the Academia for Alhaitham's part and hella shy
a/n: it was NOT a narrow win, this one won by far...so I hope you enjoy!!
also I might do a part 2 depending on how many people like it....and if you want any characters added just drop me a message 💜⭐️💜⭐️
Neuvillette
The Traveller and Paimon had decided to make an unexpected visit to the Palais Mermonia to see Neuvillette and Furina since they happened to be in Fontaine.
"Hey Sendene!! We are here to see Neuvillette and Furina!!" Paimon shouted out floating happily.
"Hello Traveller, Paimon. You see Neuvillette is currently away but you can make your way over to his office, he shouldn't mind." the Melusine said happily
"Thanks Sendene! See you!!" The Traveller and Paimon opened the doors to Neuvillette's office only to be met with an unfamiliar face.
You were sat down reading a book, with one leg crossed over the other deep in the book that you don't notice the two individuals walk in the room.
"Ummm...Hello there!! Whoever could you be?" your head shoots up to look at the Traveller and Paimon a look of suprise and happiness on your face at the same time.
"Ah! The infamous Traveller and Paimon!! Neuvi has said so much about you! It's so nice to finally meet you." you shoot up and hold the Traveller's hand, shortly moving to patting Paimon.
"You sure are energetic....but you never answered my question!" Paimon shouted putting her hands on her hips.
"Oh dear...that's my bad hehe...I am Y/N, its lovely to meet you!"
"Nice to meet you too Y/N!! So what are you doing in Neuvillette's office? You must be awfully close to give him that nickname" Paimon asks as the Traveller looks a bit confused as to how you had gotten so close to Neuvillette and how they didn't know who you were.
"Well I am Neuvillette's-" just as you were about to explain your presence, Neuvillette and Furina walked through the office doors making you smile warmly.
"Neuvillette!! Furina!! You run up to them giggling.
Furina walked through first, making her the first victim to your hug.
"Ah! Y/N!! It's nice to see you too" Furina smiled softly as she hugged you back.
"She's close to Furina too?! Just who is she?!!!" Paimon shouted feeling in the dark as the Traveller already had their suspicions...
"Oh how did you not know? She is Neuvillette's..." Just as Furina wanted to reply to Paimon's exclamation you squealing turned all their head in your direction.
"Neuvi~ I missed you..."
"Hello, my dearest. I too missed you an immense amount." Neuvillette said warmly making Paimon and the Traveller shocked at the love in his eyes and Furina unfazed by it.
You went on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around Neuvillette's neck hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away and handing him a cake box.
"I took a break from work to bring you a cake but now I'm gonna go...have a nice day at work and I'll see you at home!"
"I cannot wait to see you at home my dear, stay safe."
Neuvillette cups your face and places a kiss on both cheeks as you give him the cake, hug him tightly and pack your things.
"It was lovely to meet you guys!! Maybe we can meet up sometime!! See you Furina!!" you smile and wave to Paimon and The Traveller and Furina as they stare at you dumbfounded as you walk out the doors and Furina smiles and waves back.
"It is good to see you two, how have you been faring?" Neuvillette smiled turning to the Traveller and Paimon.
"UH...ERM....ARE WE GONNA IGNORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM??!! WHO IS Y/N TO YOU?!" Paimon screamed as Neuvillette held a neutral face.
"Oh Y/N is my wife. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put her in danger."
"That makes so much sense...its quite cute actually!! I can't believe THE Chief Justice has a wife!! For how long?" Paimon seemed to be extremely amused as the Traveller sighed at how dense Paimon was.
"400 years"
"SAY WHAT??!?!?"
☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•
Wriothesley
"Erm...can you hear that Traveller?" Paimon sounded uneasy as the Traveller gave her a look of uncertainty at whatever was currently going on in the Duke of Meropide's office.
There was currently shouting going on that was so loud that a few people gather around his office to see if they could get anyone the drama. (that the only entertainment they get down there)
"WELL IF YOU DIDN'T PUT MY CAKE IN THE BIN THEN I WOULDN'T BE HERE TO BE HONEST, WRIOTHESLEY!!"
"UGH Y/N I TOLD YOU, I CAN GET YOU A BETTER ONE!! PLUS YOU ARE SO LOUD THAT I BET EVERYONE IS OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!!"
"OH REALLY MR DUKE?? I LIKE THAT ONE CAUSE YOU MADE IT!"
"Y/N YOU AND I BOTH KNOW IT TASTED LIKE DIRT! AND STOP SHOUTING!!!"
Outside the office people were mumbling different things.
"Damn her sentence is gonna be for life if it wasn't before...."
"She's a soldier...."
Sigewinne showed up next to the Traveller and Paimon with an fed up look on her face.
"They are at it again...." She sighed and placed a hand on her forehead.
"Sigewinne!! Just what is going on in there?" Paimon asked as the Traveller flinched at another shout.
"You better go see for yourself..." Sigewinne pushed the Traveller and Paimon in the office and they climbed up the stairs to see a random woman and Wriothesley stop arguing to look at them.
Your demeanor changed completely as you turn your body to face them fully and smile.
"Oh hello! You must be the Traveller, and her cute little friend Paimon!" you smile softly as Paimon giggles and the Traveller greets you.
"Don't make Paimon blush!! However, the main issue is why you guys are shouting so much!!" Paimon places her hands on her hips like an angry mother.
Just as you started to calm you started getting heated.
"Traveller, I wouldn't usually be so desperate...but I could really use your help..."
"Hush it, Wrio." Paimon and the Traveller look at each other in shock.
Not only were you rude to THE Duke of Meropide but he also listened to you.
"Well, funny you guys asked....my HUSBAND here made me a lovely, beautiful delightful cake...last night which I enjoyed immensely!"
"Y/N-" Just as Wriothesley wanted to start you gave him a glare that shut him up.
"I REALLY enjoyed the cake, but my husband insisted it tasted like ass....so this morning after he had gone to work and I wanted to eat this cake I wake up to see it in the bin. So I am simply asking my husband to explain himself."
You fold your arms directing your attention back to Wriothesley.
"Wait....wait...wait...YOUR HUSBAND????!?!? WRIOTHESLEY THIS IS NEWS TO ME...." Paimon shouted as both the Traveller and Paimon both put their hands on their hips.
Wriothesley sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.
"Guys....this is Y/N my wife of 3 years."
"Not for much longer is you keep this up."
"Y/N!! I'm sorry okay, I will make another one for you tonight." You immediately perked up and smiled warmly as you gave him a tight hug he returned, before you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"There we go, it wasnt hard was it! Anyway, I gotta go back to work...see you guys around and see you tonight, Wrio." you waved as you walked downstairs and left.
It was silent for a few minutes as the Paimon and the Traveller stared at Wriothesley in disbelief.
"I didn't want to tell you in these circumstances but-" Wriothesley started
"YOU BAKE??!!" The Traveller and Paimon spoke up in sync.
☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•
Alhaitham
It was a lovely day and The traveller and Paimon were walking through Port Ormos, just as a little relaxation walk.
"Hey Traveller, isn't that Alhaitham? Let's go say hi!" The Traveller nods and they both go and say hi to Alhaitham despite him talking to you.
You turn your head and notice the Traveller and Paimon approach your boyfriend so you tapped him while he was talking so he would turn around.
"Ah, Traveller and Paimon. How are you? What brings you here?" Alhaitham turns around as you shyly stand behind him hoping they don't notice you.
"We are great! Just came here for a walk. What about you."
"I am discussing things with my partner...." Alhaitham glanced back to you suggesting you make an appearance as you only cower behind him, gripping his arm tight.
"Uhhh....I'm assuming that's them behind you in the Akademiya uniform." Paimon says crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in confusion.
Alhaitham nods before turning around and grabbing your shoulders, steering you infront of him. "Introduce yourself Y/N..."
"H-Hi....I am Y/N...." you don't say much before wrapping your arms around Alhaitham tightly and shoving your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you smiling faintly (not going unnoticed by The Traveller)
"Sorry, she is usually really shy..." Alhaitham deadpanned.
"How on earth can she be your partner?" Paimon asked kind of shocked that he was tolerant enough to work together with you.
"She is actually a very valuable asset. I don't appreciate your language." Alhaitham said it neutrally despite the cold look in his eyes.
Before anyone can say anything tou mumbled out from Alhaitham's chest.
"I wanna go home...." you squeezed him tighter as he did the same.
"Well, we are going home now, she seems a bit overwhelmed so we will catch you another time." Alhaitham says moving away making Paimon and The Traveller feel a bit weirded out at how close they were for partners.
"Hey wait!! I'm sorry I said that....I didn't mean it...are you scared of us?" you looked away from Alhaitham's chest smiling slightly at them but not letting go.
"I'm scared cause you guys are so cool, Alhaitham told me all about you!" you spoke softly before turning away and earning a head pat from Alhaitham.
"Well done for speaking Y/N, dear." Alhaitham said as you looked up at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"EWWW! JUST WHAT TYPE OF PARTNERS ARE YOU?!?!" Paimon shouted as you and Alhaitham shared another small kiss before walking away.
"Romantic partners and work partners."
"WHATTTT!!"
☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•
a/n: I'm probs gonna do a pt. 2 just because j wanna write scara too and wanna make sure I haven't written too much...anyways I hope you enjoyed 💜✨️💜✨️💜
#anime#anime fluff#anime x reader#fyp#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#neuvillette#neuvilette genshin#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette genshin#neuvillette fluff#wriothesley#genshin#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley genshin#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham x you#alhaitham
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:
the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.
they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.
very few politicians have the respect of the clones.
but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.
so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.
you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.
way down.
the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.)
and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.
best just to lay low for a while.
when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters.
(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)
and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes.
there's an angry call in the corridor.
the shiny flinches.
fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.
anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.
they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.
fives was not prepared for tears.
the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that.
fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.
thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.
#tcw#tcw fanfiction#of a sort#coruscant guard#captain rex#clone trooper fives#commander fox#someone else should write that
843 notes
·
View notes
Text
rings (gojo x wife! reader)
in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee.
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that.
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited.
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy.
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?”
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food.
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table.
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey.
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own.
“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch.
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!”
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!”
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly.
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing.
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart.
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave.
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts.
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!”
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#fluff#arranged marriage#gojo’s wife series
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐏
✽ — PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
✽ — SYNOPSIS: When a job goes south, Bakugou and Kirishima are left dealing with the consequences of saving a life that maybe they shouldn't have.
✽ — WORD COUNT: est. 30.2k
✽ — WARNINGS: Female reader (she/her used), Cyberpunk AU, gun violence, gunshot wounds, descriptions of dead bodies, blood, body modifications, amnesia, death threats, POV changes between Bakugou & Reader, enemies to lovers (?), eventual smut, angst, no beta reader, no second part, there are no happy endings in night city.
✽ — NOTES: It only took me two years but hey, it's here. You don't necessarily need to know anything about cyberpunk to read this, I've tried to explain things as best as I can in the fic itself. But if you have any questions, please feel free to send me an ask!
✽ — EXTRAS: Playlist // AO3
“Shit!”
“The fuck did you do now?!” The blonde rounds the back of the car, a hand clasping the handgun tight in one hand whilst the other runs frantically through his sweat-slicked hair. It was not meant to go like this, this was meant to be an easy job.
That’s what Aizawa said! Easy! The warehouse they were supposed to hit tonight was rumoured to be empty, no one had been seen moving in and out of it for days. There wasn’t meant to be a gunfight and now Bakugou worries about how it’ll come back around to bite him in the ass.
His eyes snap away from the pools of blood and a mixture of chemical fluids. Kirishima is hunched over something in the open trunk of the car, his shoulders are bunched and Bakugou can practically feel the tension rolling off of his best friend in waves. “Oi, what the fuck is—”
Kirishima steps back, and Bakugou’s words die on the tip of his tongue when he stares down at the loot Aizawa had sent them to get. He had said it was just a simple shipment, a bunch of cyberware shit that needed to be shifted from one side of Night City to the other. But this was not just any old sort of cyberware.
Arasaka cyberware.
That meant the crate would most likely be tracked, and inside of it would be goods worth more money than either of the two Mercs had touched in their entire life.
“Oh fuck me–” Bakugou speaks first, eyes locked onto the metallic case. “Ei, we need to drop this shit. We can’t be caught with it, they’ll have our fucking balls.”
“No shit we can’t be caught with it! But what do we do with it now?! We can’t just leave it, what if the Maelstrom comes back and takes whatever’s inside of it?” Kirishima’s the one glaring at Bakugou now, the look making the man of 6’8” seem more of a terrifying monster than anything. “Why did you have to say yes to this job, man? We were fine for a few more weeks–”
“Because it would’ve gotten us both out of the fucking city Eijirou!” Bakugou yells finally, he is shorter than Kirishima but still at his own height of 6’3”, he makes up for his lack of height in comparison with his explosive anger. “I took it so that we could go back fucking home! Don’t you want that?!”
“Of course, I wan–”
Bang!
Instinctively Bakugou and Kirishima drop to the ground, Bakugou pulls his handgun up and is ready to fire whilst Kirishima's skin shifts with the metal plating. The two of them were a two-man team that was inseparable, Kirishima the shield and Bakugou the firepower. Both of their eyes are locked together as they wait to see if there’s another gunshot, Bakugou’s heart feels like it might beat its way out of his chest any minute now. He was certain he had gotten everyone, his optical enhancements had confirmed as much.
The red of his eyes flash to life as he takes a deep breath before peeking over the back of the car, it’s silent for a moment before he hears a dragging noise and sure enough—there’s a body heat signature east of the car, hidden behind some boxes and crates. His arms adjust on the car, holding his gun steady, ready to shoot the second their head peeks over the crate.
…But then the heat signature flickers out, and Bakugou drops his position in confusion before there’s another bang and this time the bullet does collide with the car.
“Fuck, they’ve got some sort of tech that lets them hide from my optics,” Bakugou whispers harshly to Kirishima who has his back plastered to the car, his face stoic despite the possibility of being taken out by someone who was possessing cyberware that’d allow them to appear out of thin air practically.
Kirishima nods once, the body plating along his forearms clicking into place as he readies to use himself as a human shield. Bakugou steels his nerves, eyes flashing back to life before finally saying “Move with me.”
The two of them are up in an instant, Kirishima crossing his arms over his upper half and tensing his muscles to ensure his body mass covers Bakugou entirely whilst the blonde slips his arm just beneath Kirishima’s with the gun poised and ready to shoot. The crimson of his eye gleams in the darkness when he catches the heat signature once again dashing from one crate to another and this time Bakugou doesn’t hesitate. The gun fires in rapid succession, neither of the men flinching. The reaction is immediate when there’s what sounds like something falling to the floor.
“Lost visual again,” Bakugou confirms when the warm red spot vanishes from his vision, leaving just droplets of what must be blood on the floor in their wake. Both mercs wait in silent anticipation, Kirishima moving with each step Bakugou takes as if it were second nature to him—perhaps at this point in life, it was second nature.
Kirishima had come with Bakugou from Tokyo to Night City nearly 15 years ago with the plan that the two of them were simply there for one job. It was going to give them life-changing money, something the two of them desperately needed for themselves and their families back home.
“Ei!” Bakugou yells, Kirishima plants both of his boots against the ground and brings up his arms to defend his face. The bullet buries itself into the metal plating of his arm, pulling a deep grunt from the man.
“Motherfucker–!”
Bakugou again fires the gun, a snarl resting on his face and this time he hears the sound of flesh being hit by the bullet, and then the sound of a body slumping onto the ground. Kirishima finally steps down from being the human shield, pulling his arm up to view the bullet that’s embedded deep into his forearm. No doubt the Doc will be pissed about this when he gets back.
“All good?” Bakugou asks, changing out the mag in his gun before glancing towards the foot he can now see peeking out from behind the boxes. Kirishima grunts a yes whilst pulling the bullet free from his arm, the sound of it hitting the floor loud in the now silent warehouse. “Doc’s gonna kill ya for that.”
“Ya think? She only just upgraded it for me.” Kirishima almost whines, quite the opposite of the man he just was as he watches the black liquid of the synthetic fluids leak from his arm in place of blood. “If I ask her nicely, do you think– Hey, where are you going?” Kirishima watches Bakugou slam shut the trunk of the car before stomping his way over to the body he’d just shot, he had to know if it was enough scumbag from some gang or if Arasaka were already onto them.
Bakugou rounds the crate, readying his gun to fire once more and freezes in place; gun raised just slightly, eyes widened and mouth ajar. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me—Ei, get here. Now.”
Kirishima walks over when the ash blonde hisses at him to hurry the fuck up, wiping the black liquid free from his arms before looking down at what Bakugou was staring at.
“Ohh.. fuck, dude.” He gapes at the girl lying on the floor, covered head-to-toe in blacked-out clothing. But it wasn’t the fact it was a girl that Bakugou had taken down, but rather it was the fact she had the Militech symbol stitched into the sleeve of her t-shirt. “What the fuck did Militech want with this?”
“I don’t know—maybe to reignite that old corporate war they had years ago with Arasaka? Everyone knows both of them are fucked up.” Bakugou is still frozen, the handgun still aimed to shoot. If he takes out this Militech assassin, it’s most likely going to be tracked back to them and by them; he means the new family he had found in Night City. It was a tightly knit group, all coming from similar backgrounds to his own but ending up in NC for different reasons. He couldn’t do that to them, he couldn’t get them killed because he took a job to run away.
Kirishima squats down next to the body, head tilting as he leans a little closer towards her head. His hand hovers just next to her face, “The fuck you doin’ now? Gettin’ your big ass fingerprints all over the body so they ca—”
“Shush,” Kirishima demands, and Bakugou goes to defy immediately before he’s shushed for a second time whilst Kirishima puts his index finger beneath her nose. It’s a tense moment, but he feels it. “Still breathing, we could still call trauma and—”
“And what? She relays to her boss that she ran into one very identifiable red-haired giant and his angry friend? No. We kill her.”
“Wait! Wait!” Kirishima moves to push the gun away when Bakugou raises it, meeting his scathing glare with his own determined one. “What if we use her for info? Clearly whatever is in that box is worth enough to get both Arasaka and Militech willing to fight.”
Bakugou’s jaw ticks as he clenches it, eyes flicking between his red-haired friend and the girl on the floor. He’s right, Aizawa might know something about this, and if they’re able to pull info from her about Militech then they could probably sell it to Arasaka for a pretty penny.
“Shit.” He huffs, finally pulling the gun back and holstering it. “Fine, but you’re the fucker that’s got to explain why we’re dragging a half-dead Militech asshole through the Docs door.”
“—not keeping—”
“This is your—”
“Guys.”
Everything felt…wrong. Nothing felt like it belonged, and yet it did at the same time. Mechanical parts clicking and groaning, blood pumping in and out, brain whirring to life. Lights that are far too bright for delicate eyes, and all noises submerged in synthetic water.
What was happening?
Where were you?
“Can you hear me?” a voice calls from a distant place to your left, you want to open your eyes or will your lips to move to form the words that are hanging at the end of your tongue. What happened to you? Nothing made sense, you didn’t recognise that voice and you didn’t recognise the coldness of the metal table you were laid on.
“Hey—wait, calm down.” A smooth, cold hand presses itself against your sternum and it was as if a light switch had been flipped in the dark recesses of your mind. You didn’t have to think when your own hand wraps around the offending limb, fingers curling dangerously tight.
“Shit, I knew this was a fucking mistake!” A new voice, distantly familiar. There’s a scrambling of feet, and finally, your eyes are opening. The light is blinding, but you can make out the blurry outlines of figures that are double your size and they’re frantically moving to reach something; guns, you belatedly realise and you don’t miss a beat in hauling yourself off of the metal table.
The two men—you can finally see them now and they’re nothing short of a pair of gigantic cyborgs—have turned to you with guns raised but they haven't made a move yet. Your arm tenses around something until you hear a squeak accompanied by a choking sound. Hesitantly you glance down to see you have a woman with brown hair pinned to your chest with one forearm crushing her throat and the other raised in their direction.
“Now, just hold on.” The one with the red hair speaks, his hands raised to show he’s no threat but you don’t miss the way his skin shifts with the metal plating. Armour. He must be the shield, and the other must be the firepower.
“Lower your weapon.” Weapon? You flick your eyes towards the blonde who most definitely isn’t lowering his weapon. The redhead shifts again, and he’s taken a step forward towards you but his hands are still up in surrender. “Please, lower your weapon.”
He must see the confusion on your face so he points towards your free arm currently not crushing the woman to your body. You hesitate to look where his finger is pointing, but it’s hard to miss when your eyes drift slightly away from the redhead. In place of your arm is what looks like an M-179 precision rifle.
Wait—how do you know what type of weapon that is? You’ve never held a gun in your life before, you–you…–you were just some street rat. The weapon retreats back into your arm, clicking your own metal plates back together until it’s smoothed over as if it had never existed in the first place.
Did these people put these parts into you? Had they found you passed out in some dark alleyway and dragged you here to experiment on you? That’s the only explanation, it’s the only reason you’re in this dingy ripper doctor's office.
“S–Stop. Can’t—breathe.” the woman croaks against your arm, and you realise you’re actually starting to crush her windpipe with your forearm. She stumbles forward with a hard choke, whilst you launch yourself back into the surrounding deskspace. Metal clangs and surgical instruments fall to the floor in a loud clatter, the roaring in your ears is too loud to hear what the people are saying to you.
Another set of hands place themselves against you, your upper arms this time but they’re no longer cold, they’re warm. A shroud of red covers the edges of your vision and all you can focus on is the face directly in front of yours, his lips are moving and it’s impossible to decipher what he’s trying to say.
Why does his face seem so familiar? You had seen this hair somewhere before, and those teeth. You had never run into someone with such sharp teeth and yet your mind couldn’t stop trying to find just where you had seen them before. The red-haired man looks over his shoulder, letting you see the blonde who was frowning in your direction still brandishing the gun that was pointed directly at your head if anything were to go wrong.
“—know man!”
“Move so I can—”
“You.” Both voices silence immediately. Two different sets of red eyes on you and yet they both carry a different feeling; one filled with curious sympathy and the other hardened disgust. “Who are you? I–I think I know you.”
“Uh, well, I’m Kirishima.” There’s a groan of annoyance from what you assume to be the blonde whilst the one named Kirishima keeps his eyes on yours. “What about you, what’s your name?”
Your lips part, tongue moving to accommodate the syllables of your name and yet nothing comes forward. You try again with furrowed eyebrows but it feels like your tongue is too big for your mouth and your throat is restricting around your name. In your oncoming panic, you latch a hand to your throat, widening your eyes when you try again and again to spit your name out.
“Hey! Alright!” A hand comes around your wrist and peels your fingers away from the skin of your throat, and Kirishima takes a deep breath when he looks down at you. “You don’t remember a thing, do you?” your only response is a shake of your head, and you swear the man's shoulders slump as he deflates a little at your admission. Had they known you?
“Fuckin’ brilliant, Ei. Now Aizawa’s gonna have our ass for bringing back a death machine with memory loss and the tendency to lash out!” Death machine? Did he mean you? However you don’t get to answer the question because the blonde stomps out of the room, the slam of the door stunning the room into silence.
Another sigh before Kirishima drops his hands from your upper arms and straightens out to his full height. He is huge, bigger than anyone you have ever seen before. “You should rest before tonight.” He supplies, turning towards the door and you realise the brown-haired woman had also vacated the room at some point.
“Wait. Tonight?” you take a careful step after him and you don’t miss the way his shoulders stiffen, nor the way his forearm plating clicks to ready himself. Was he scared of you? No. That can’t be right, this gigantic man could not be scared of you. You’re certain he could crush you if he wanted with just a single hand.
“Tonight you’re meeting our fixer.” and just like that he was gone, the door closing behind him with an audible click.
They had locked you in.
Looking back around the room, eyes caught on the glint of various medical tools that had been scattered across the white tile floor. There are no windows besides the one at the far back of the room, but even from where you stand you can see it’s barred. You were well and truly trapped.
And so, with nothing else to do, you sat in the desk chair by the bed you had woken up on—and waited.
...
The next time you see Kirishima is when he had come to collect you from your makeshift prison, at some point someone—you assumed it was the Ripper—had shoved clothes in through the small gap of the door, you hadn’t realised you were in a state of undress when you had initially woken up.
Kirishima smiles at you, but you can see it doesn’t meet his eyes as he towers over you. He’s dressed differently too, in a black leather jacket over a red distressed vest and black jeans with some very expensive-looking sneakers. He looked much more like his age like this, you didn’t realise he was more around your age.
“Ready?” Kirishima offers, burying both of his hands into his front pockets and leaning against the frame of the door—While he seemed relaxed, you knew he was blocking off your only escape route.
You look down at yourself, you’re not quite sure how they had managed to get your size somewhat right but the black cargo pants and graphic tee were comfortable. The only thing they hadn’t measured correctly was the heavy orange bomber jacket that dwarfed you immensely.
“Yeah, readier than I’ll ever be anyway.” Kirishima just nods, finally pushing the door open and letting you walk out first before he shuts the door behind you both.
The door immediately opens out onto a street, the floor is wet from the rain and the neon street lights give the dingy alleyway some light. You can’t tell where you are, when you look up there is nothing but a concrete overpass blocking you from seeing the sky. “C’mon, he doesn’t like tardiness.”
“Who?” You jog to keep up with Kirishima’s wide – normal – steps, you barely come up to his shoulder and you have to crane your head up to look at him.
“Aizawa, our fixer. He doesn’t normally meet with new faces, but you’ve piqued his interest.”
“But how? I’ve not done anything, I don’t even know who I am.” You try to explain, the emptiness that sits in your brain is unnerving, to say the least.
Kirishima finally looks down at you, nothing but pity in his eyes. “That’s exactly why he wants to see you.”
The rest of the walk is in silence, not that Kirishima seems to mind much whilst he flicks through his phone. You’re not quite sure who Aizawa was, but you knew what Fixers were. They were smugglers, fencers and they loved to handle information. Is that why he wanted to see you? To get information from you? But you had none to give, and when Fixers often don’t get what they want… they dispose of the useless item.
Sparing a glance towards Kirishima, he was far too engrossed in his phone to realise the thoughts you were currently harbouring. You could make a run for it, he’s much bigger than you, sure, but you’re smaller. Maybe you’re faster. He could lose you easily in a crowd of people, you don’t want to be killed for something that’s not your fault.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Kirishima says without missing a beat, his eyes not drifting away from his phone and you have to focus on not tripping over your own feet at being caught out. He hadn’t even looked at you, you weren’t that obvious– “If you run then that means I have to admit Bakugou was right and then I have to chase you down.” Finally, he looks at you, raising an eyebrow to see if you’re still going to do it.
“I won’t run.” You say with less conviction than you would’ve liked but Kirishima seems happy enough with it, finally pocketing his phone into his back pocket before nodding his head forward.
“Here we are.” You turn to look at the building you’re both standing in front of. It fronts what looks to be a bar, not quite as modern as some of the others you had passed by. It looked more oriental and authentic. It’s not imposing, it blends in perfectly wedged between two other buildings that look like stores—it’s the perfect place for a Fixer you realise, it stands out enough to those seeking the man known as Aizawa but in an area shoddy enough that it won’t draw in too many people.
Kirishima doesn’t give you more time to inspect the building, guiding you inwards with a hand between your shoulder blades until you’re past the old wooden doors and inside a very well-kept bar. It’s relatively empty, with a few people hanging around by the bar but it’s quiet.
Your eyes rove over the multitude of artwork hanging from the walls, swirling paint strokes and sculptured mythical creatures. Kirishima drops his hand from your back once he’s sure you’re secured in the building, leaving you standing alone whilst he meanders towards the bar to talk to a pretty girl with bouncy curly pink hair.
“Oi,” a gruff voice calls from behind you, your shoulders jump at the closeness of the gruff voice and you spin to see the blonde from earlier. He has a frown on his face the second he meets your eyes before they drag down and latch onto the bomber jacket you’re wearing. He seems to glare somewhat harder, sucking at the back of his teeth. “No fucking around. I won’t hesitate to blow your head off this time.”
“This her?” a deep, almost sleepy voice drawls and you turn to meet the man to whom the voice belongs. He’s got shoulder-length black hair, and tired eyes yet the look he’s giving you is enough to tell you he’s very alert. You can’t help but straighten your spine a little, attention drawn away from the blonde who just huffs and wanders elsewhere. “Doesn’t look like much of a threat to me.”
You’re left blinking at the man, the silence suffocating until you look hesitantly across the room to meet a set of red eyes—but they aren’t Kirishima’s. Bakugou was clearly growing agitated the longer this was drawn out. “I’ve never been a threat.”
“Bakugou and Kirishima seem to think otherwise, even our Ripper Doc had said you have some interesting chrome.” Aizawa continues, settling into one of the seats close by before he regards you again. “But they also said you don’t remember who you are, is that true?”
“I–... Yes, it is.” Interesting chrome? “I don’t know how I got my upgrades, I woke up surrounded and I just acted on instinct.”
There’s a beat of silence, the palms of your hands growing sweaty and you suddenly feel like you’re standing in a pit with lions.
Then Aizawa breathes in deeply, sighing a little on his exhale. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.” There’s a noise of disagreement from Bakugou somewhere to the side but Aizawa continues anyway, “You could be useful to us. I’m sure your memories will come back over time and you’ll be even more valuable to us then. It’d be stupid of me to let you go.”
“Let me go? You want to keep me prisoner?”
“Not a prisoner. We just can’t have you wandering the streets in the state that you are, it’s safer for everyone involved if you stay here.”
It made sense, you supposed. You would be safer staying in one place instead of wandering the streets, especially if you had no idea who you were. Swallowing the lump of anxiety, you nod your head in agreement and Aizawa visibly relaxes in his seat before he casts a glance towards Kirishima and Bakugou.
“On second thoughts… I think it’ll be better for you to stay with those two.”
“What?!” Bakugou all but yells, the beer bottle in his hand smashing onto the floor in haste to get to his feet in disbelief. “I am not a fucking babysitter, and I’m not looking after some corpo—”
“You found her, you look after her. Didn’t I teach you that when I found you?”
Bakugou’s upper lip curls into a snarl, his eyes darting from Aizawa and towards you–it’s like you’ve been pinned to the spot underneath his hateful gaze. His tongue drags along his lips, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth before he leaves without another word. Kirishima is quick to take his place, stepping up close to you to take you back to wherever you had to stay.
“I promise he’s not always this bad—well, most of the time he is but he’s a good guy,” Kirishima says, a hand back on the spot between your shoulder blades to guide you out of the bar and back onto the open street where you finally see Bakugou once again. He’s sitting on a motorbike, an expensive-looking one. “Yo, Bakugou. Are we–”
“You have one fucking chance left. If you pull that shit again that you did at the Docs, I’ll personally rip your head from your shoulders. Got it?” Bakugou points a finger in your direction, which only makes Kirishima huff a sigh of annoyance and drag a hand over his face. “One. Then you’re done.”
He must not expect an answer as he slips the helmet over his head, the sleek black of it reflecting only the neon street lights but you can still feel his glare on you before he revs his engine once, twice—then he’s gone.
You look up at Kirishima finally when Bakugou is gone, and the redhead just smiles awkwardly at you whilst rubbing the nape of his neck. “I did warn ya.”
To say the next few days were painful is an understatement.
You had been confined to an apartment shared between both Kirishima and Bakugou, whilst the redhead was happy to have another roommate—Bakugou was not. He made it his mission to make it hellish for you.
It started with him refusing to cook you food whenever he did for Kirishima and himself (Kirishima had to convince him to at least give you something to eat or you’d die and then Aizawa would be pissed). Then it started with the loud music early in the morning, you had no real bed so you had to sleep on the expensive U-shaped couch and Bakugou took great joy in turning the radio on and making sure it was on full blast.
Kirishima did try to stop Bakugou’s attempts to drive you to a point of anger that would make you act out, which only had Bakugou sneering in your direction before he left to go do whatever the fuck he did all day.
And it was going somewhat well, that same routine every day. Until Bakugou got a call.
Currently, you’re sitting on the couch, your elbows digging into your thighs whilst you lean forward. The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of the passing Trauma Team AV that flew by the window.
Kirishima was staring out of the window, both of his hands pressing against the cool metal window ledge, the lights of the nightlife outside reflecting off of the various strips of chrome covering his jaw and down along his throat.
Opposite you was Bakugou, his knee bouncing in what appeared to be nervousness whilst both of his hands were buried deep in his blonde hair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling above.
“This cannot be fuckin’ happening.” He groans for the nth time that evening since ending the call. “That old fucking man—the nerve, all of the shit I do for him… and this is how he rewards me?!”
“Dude, Aizawa has never steered us wrong. He obviously thinks we can trust her.” Kirishima says in an odd tone like his voice was devoid of any emotion. You supposed it made sense, he had never been able to trust you either for whatever reason.
“Well, I think we can’t.” Bakugou drops his head back forward, meeting your gaze and a sharp shiver rolls down your spine. “You remember what I told you before I let you come and squat in my apartment?”
“Our apartment.” Kirishima supplies quietly, though Bakugou is undeterred.
“You’ll kill me.”
“Right, I’ll fucking kill you.” Bakugou finally stands, swiping the pulse rifle off of the table between the two of you before fixing it over one of his shoulders. “Now get the fuck up, we’ve got a Tyger Claws cunt to go kill.”
The back of Kirishima’s car was very plush, you couldn’t help but wonder how good at being mercs the two of them were. They seemed to be living in the lap of luxury yet they decided to stay in Night City, but you didn’t dare ask why they were still here. Bakugou would probably take the opportunity to bite your head off.
You sunk into the leather and watched the city pass by, the rain bounced off of the roof of the car and rolled down the windows in thick streaks. It still made no sense as to why Aizawa put you on this mission with them too, they were capable on their own so just what did Aizawa expect from you? You can’t even remember a time when you had used a gun so surely you’d just be deadweight—another reason for Bakugou to be on your ass if you fuck up.
As if somehow sensing your inner anguish, Kirishima turns in his seat enough to meet your eyes.
“Ready for this?” You’re not quite sure why he’s asking, even Bakugou seems to furrow his brows in confusion at why the redhead even gives a fuck about if you’re ready or not. “It should be a pretty simple gig, the Tyger Claws are ruthless but this guy we’re going for? Big junkie, won’t see us coming.” Kirishima grins at the end of his sentence, and you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face.
“Right, yeah, I’m ready.” You say with a small nod.
“Say it with more confidence and I might actually believe you for once.” Bakugou gruffs from his own spot in the driver's seat, with only one hand on the wheel and the other propped up on the door beside the window. He’s chewing at the skin of his thumb; one might think he’s actually a bit anxious. Kirishima only gives you a look you now know is his attempt at apologising on behalf of the antagonising blonde before he sinks back into his seat with a huff.
“Don’t gotta be so rude all the time man, she probably doesn’t want to be here as much as you.” Kirishima all but grumbles to himself, looking away when Bakugou shoots him a scathing glare.
“Yeah? Then maybe she’ll fuck off at the first chance she gets, won’t have to deal with her anymore.” The car falls into an awkward silence at that, not even Kirishima can counter the fact that it would be simpler if you did disappear but you can see the sad frown that’s making him look much more like a kicked puppy than anything. The music on the radio does nothing to squash the tension, instead, it only adds to the palpable dark energy rolling from Bakugou in thick waves.
Soon enough the car is pulled into a darkened alleyway, only the rats and drunkards faintly aware of the presence of the two big mercs who get out of the car in a heartbeat. They seem to move in an organised way; a practised routine you realise. By the time you close the car door behind you, there’s a gun being thrust in your face. “Here, I know it’s not much but—it should do the job,” Kirishima leans a little as if sharing a secret “It’s all Bakugou would agree to give you, think you still scare him.”
You hum, eyeing the handgun in your hand and feeling its weight. It felt lighter than you expected, your fingers moulded perfectly around the hilt and you tilted your head to inspect the barrel. Something feels very familiar with the gun now in your hand, and as you look at both Bakugou and Kirishima to thank them you falter for a moment.
Your vision flickers, the city behind them flashes to an old warehouse before it returns to normal. Kirishima seems to be talking animatedly but Bakugou’s eyes are locked onto your own, an unreadable expression on his face—maybe it’s because there is no real emotion on his face. No scowl, no anything, he looks like a blank slate.
“Anyway, we ready for this? It’ll be over before we know it and then we can go to that ramen noodle bar I mentioned last week!” Kirishima grins, slapping a hand against his hardened stomach.
“Yeah.” Bakugou finally speaks, breaking his eyes away from your own and down to the weapon in his hands. “The plan is Kirishima will be the shield, I’m the firepower, and you just follow us and keep quiet.” He says whilst staring you down, gone is the blank expression and that familiar frown is again creasing his skin. You just nod, and he seems happy enough with that response to turn on his heel and lead the way into the back exit of the building.
The building is rundown, as are all the buildings in Night City outside of the high-end Corporate zones. You traverse over tipped-over vending machines, various boxes and crates that had been ripped apart and ransacked for all their worth. It’s dark and dingy, a low stream of smog flitting through the air from the old vents in the ceiling. The only way you can tell you’re going the correct way is with the help of the flickering dim fluorescent lights overhead, Kirishima and Bakugou are both deadly silent and somehow moving without even making a noise.
The journey up the stairs is quick, without the worry of someone hearing the three of you coming, both men take the steps three at a time—leaving you to hurry after them as quickly as you can.
Both of them freeze once they reach the door that leads to the 6th floor, Bakugou shifting a few steps back and Kirishima takes his spot wordlessly in front of the blonde. The clicking of Kirishima’s skin has you focusing on him, the way the metal plating shifts almost looks like his skin is hardening. Bakugou has his own gun raised, the heavy rifle looks like it weighs nothing in one hand when he taps the other on Kirishima’s shoulder indicating he’s ready to breach.
It all happens in three very quick steps.
First, Kirishima rips open the door to the point where it’s detached from the wall and tumbles down the stairwell—you have to plaster yourself to the wall to avoid being squashed.
Second, breaching. Bakugou has both his hands back on his rifle, his eyes illuminating the chrome strips on his face whilst Kirishima steps forward with purpose.
Third, gunfire. It happens in five quick taps of the rifle's trigger, Bakugou hardly shifting from the recoil as he swivels just his upper half whilst hunching his shoulders slightly to ensure each and every single one of his shots is a direct headshot. The sound of bodies slumping on the floor is your cue to finally enter the room, and a part of you wishes you hadn’t.
The room smells horrific, a stench you for some reason recognise as death. But it wasn’t coming from the fresh bodies, no, it was deeper in the large room. The translucent sheets of plastic that hang from the ceiling obscure most of the room, with multiple splatters of blood staining the material. Bakugou lowers his weapon slowly, Kirishima finally parting ways to do his own investigation of the place.
“Think we got him?” Kirishima asks, using his foot to roll over one of the men Bakugou took out before grimacing at the clean shot between the eyes. Bakugou was a beast with the gun, there’s a reason why he was so sought out by Fixers other than Aizawa.
“Dunno, I didn’t get a clear look at their faces.” Bakugou comments from the other side of the room, squatting down to roll a guy over to inspect his face.
Both men are too occupied with the gig to notice that you’re traversing through the middle of the room, pushing past the thin sheets of plastic to grow closer to the source of the blueish neon lights. With each step, the smell grows stronger, a rotting kind of stench mixed with what smells like fried electronics. A shiver rolls down your spine, a warning to stop yourself from pushing past the final sheet of plastic. Your fingers curl against the material, crinkling it and still, both men are blissfully unaware of what you’re about to unveil—
An empty ice bath.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, multiple thick wires and cords were all scattered around the bath yet there was no one connected to those wires. You take a hesitant step forward, the smell is still so strong—something isn’t right. The ice bath looked fresh, except for the blood staining on either side of the white porcelain, following the streaks upwards until you see a blinking screen displaying vitals.
Ayaka Ichida.
Age: 26
Occupation: Arasaka Executive
ECG: N/A
Blood Pressure: N/A
“Arasaka?” You murmur to yourself, fingers ghosting underneath the word. Why did that name send a painful twinge through your head? Perhaps it was just the notoriety of the corporation. Arasaka were rumoured to be funding the Tyger Claws way back in 2020 but it’s been nearly sixty years since then—
Your eyes lose focus the longer you stare at the screen, no longer looking at the words but rather the reflection of something moving behind you. It’s neither Bakugou nor Kirishima, you would’ve heard them approaching. This is a woman, her skin completely exposed, and dripping wet. Shit.
Her arm raises, the revolver sitting in her hand looks weighty and it’s definitely fully loaded when you catch the barrel of it. You spin on your heel, a hand stretched out ready to yell at Bakugou to move but it’s like you hit an invisible wall. Everything feels fuzzy in your brain, a wave of electricity passing through your body and shooting up and down your spine.
You must’ve shouted something because you can see Kirishima raise his head in worry, Bakugou clambering to his feet but it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. The barrel spins, the trigger clicks and the flash of the gun is bright in your eyes.
You don’t quite realise you’ve moved until it’s too late, the fuzziness in each of your limbs is all-consuming. It’s as if you’ve been dunked in ice water and your limbs are slowly regaining their warmth—it’s painful. You blink, and suddenly your face is in Bakugou's; his eyes are wide and mouth agape as if he’s at a loss for words. Your entire right arm aches, but your spine hurts something fierce.
Not quite understanding how you had moved from one side of the room to the other, you glance over your shoulder to see the body—it’s more of just a pair of legs at this point, blood sprayed up along the walls and to the ceiling; bits and pieces dripping and dropping with a sickening wet thud. Did you do that?
The ache in your arm brings your eyes back to it, and it’s no surprise to see that the entirety of your arm was replaced with the rifle you had pulled out not too long ago at the Ripperdocs. It doesn’t look like you damaged your arm, the skin easily shifting back into place whilst you turn back to look at Bakugou. There’s a spray of blood on his face too, the blonde of his hair tainted by a dark shade of crimson that almost looked black. Bakugou is looking at you with what you might assume is worry, or some level of it anyway as he still seems to be frowning.
You open your mouth to speak, your throat tightening until you sputter out a thick vicious black liquid. Immediately your hand comes up to your mouth, touching your lips to see the synthetic blood leaking from your lips in thick rivers. “Wha…” you try to speak. Taking a step back from Bakugou, it feels like you’ve been hit by a train, your fingers go to press against the sore spot on your back but instead, you meet—nothing.
Your fingers pass through where your side should’ve been. You can feel the sticky synthetic blood coat your fingers as it continues to pour from your body, you can even feel the outline of the frayed edges of the artificial muscles you didn’t know you had.
“Shit!” There’s a set of hands on your shoulders, your entire world tilting backwards suddenly. “Hold the fuck on!” A voice calls from somewhere, yet you can’t see where it’s coming from. Your senses shut down one by one until you’re left floating in an endless amount of space.
It’s dark here.
Cold.
The vastness of the space around you expands over the horizon, and it feels like something is pricking into your skin. It hurts, everything hurts here. It’s too loud, yet it’s completely silent. Glancing down at your hands, your stomach drops and swoops in anxiety at the sight—you’re not made of human matter, but rather data. Pixels, bunched together to form a non-corporeal form of yourself. You’d heard rumours of this before.
Cyberspace.
It’s an odd feeling, to be existing but also not at the same time. The Net was such a vast expanse of data and network that almost anyone in the world could access but not everyone could take a step into cyberspace in the third dimension. It was jarring without a doubt but the unlimited knowledge one could access whilst inside of it? That’s why there were so many Netrunners, people dedicated to diving into the Net and hacking whatever data they needed.
But this place you were currently in didn’t feel like you were getting an endless stream of data, it was as if you had been cut off. Everything around you is freezing cold, with not a single thread of data to grab onto to understand just where you are.
“Hi?” someone says from your side, your head turned sharply to see someone with both lilac hair and eyes, they had a tired expression on their face but even the surprise on their face was easy to spot.
They hadn’t expected to be put into the Net alongside you. Both of their hands moved up to show they had no weapons, not that an experienced Netrunner would need weapons inside of a place like this.
“Listen, I was told to try and come pull you out. You’ve been in here for two weeks and—”
“Two?” How has it been that long? You had only just woken up, it felt like you had just been in the gunfight and protected both Bakugou and Kirishima; even potentially giving your life up for the blonde. “I–I don’t understand, how has it been that long? Who even are you?”
“My name’s Shinsou. You need to listen to me very carefully if you want me to get you out of here, okay?” He takes a step closer, stretching out a hand in an attempt to touch you—
There’s a pounding on your head, a throbbing pain that spreads behind your eyes and down to the base of your skull. Accompanying the throb is a low hum, more of a thrumming kind of noise that beckons you to turn around. Slowly you do, eyes glancing up from your hands to meet a set of dull blurred verdant eyes. Though these eyes do not seem familiar, they seem deadly, calculating. They glare at you through the opaque screen you hadn’t noticed, you can just about make out their body on the other side.
They have a single hand pressed against the screen, and the other curled into a fist that’s repeatedly beating against the screen. Each time it hits you can feel the pressure on your brain, was this your own consciousness? Who was this person? You move to take a step back but their punches only grow more frantic, more aggressive. It’s getting louder and louder, and the pressure on your brain is unbearable. Why can’t you wake up? The throbbing grows more intense until there’s a shooting pain that brings you down to your knees, curling your fingers into the ground.
You can’t hear the voice of the man named Shinsou anymore, you’re not even sure if he’s still there. All you can focus on is the throbbing pain, the way it chokes you and holds you in place. Demanding your attention.
“Found you.” A static-filled voice speaks from the darkness, and you look up to see the crack in the screen with a much clearer view of almost black-green hair. It sounds like he might be laughing, it sounds almost manic before he calls out a name, a name you can’t ignore—your name. “I’ll see you soon.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the world around you started to melt away until you were left in complete darkness once again, though this darkness felt somehow different. You could feel something beneath you, smooth and metallic, familiar.
The second time you awake in the Ripperdocs office isn’t quite as jarring as the first, the lights are dimmed and there are no arguing voices. It’s easy to open your eyes, staring up at the overhead lights that have been turned off. The room is silent, the only distant noise is the street just on the other side of the door.
Slowly you rise from the table you had been laid out on, you didn’t need to look around to know you were alone this time. Has it really been two weeks since—you gasp, fingers touching the side where you had been hit but instead you meet the warm flesh of your body? Looking down to confirm that you weren’t imagining it, it looked like you hadn’t even been hit. No scars. Nothing.
There’s a laugh nearby, drawing your attention to the set of double doors you had never set foot through before. You slide from the cold table, your bare feet gently slapping on the cold tile floor. Taking a step forward your body falters, swaying to the side on uneasy legs, the table of surgical instruments clatters when you bump a hip against it and you freeze to see if anyone would be alerted to your presence.
No one comes bursting through the door.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you take another step forward. This time you were careful of where you placed your feet, and with each slow yet steady step you finally regain control over your legs. Soon enough you’re standing in front of the double doors, the voices on the other side muffled but they don’t sound familiar in the slightest. Were you even back with Bakugou and Kirishima? Had you been sold off as Bakugou had wanted? Fear danced up and down your spine, you’d have to fight your way out of here if that was the case.
Steadying your heart, you raised your hand carefully to the door, ready to burst through.
Three… Two… One.
You slam the door open, throwing your body through the now open space and your arm lifts as if on autopilot to readjust the metal plating to reveal the rifle buried deep into your very bones. With a quick scan of the room, you register you’re inside what looks like a common room of some sorts. There was a sofa, a pool table, a kitchen on the east side of the room and a gigantic TV that was broadcasting something.
There’s movement, a heat signature, and your arm automatically moves to point at the two men who are on the sofa. The yellow-haired one is the first to scream, then the one with black hair who scrambles off of the sofa to try and seek safety.
“W-Wait!” The black-haired one yells, throwing his hands up, “Don’t shoot! We’re not the enemy!”
Another door on the other side of the room beside the kitchen bursts open, there’s a scrambling of feet and clambering to all get in the room first. But Bakugou is the first in, his hand firm around the gun in hand as he raises it ready to shoot until he realises he has the barrel of his gun pointed at you. If you weren’t staring at him you might’ve missed the way his shoulders sag in relief. Kirishima is next to come in, eyes darting from both men who were sprawled amongst the mess of chips and used beer cans that had been dashed across the room in their attempt to flee immediate death.
“Oh, you’re awake.” A voice that’s now familiar to you calls your name, the man with lilac hair sidesteps around the two hulking figures. There’s a lazy smile on his face, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
Both Kirishima and Bakugou parrot the name Shinsou had given you, eyes drifting from Shinsou and to you, connecting the name to the face they’ve been living with for a while now.
“Yep, that’s the name of our friend here.” Shinsou walks into the room as if there wasn’t just a standoff moments ago, dropping into an unoccupied seat. “We should probably tell you everything that happened whilst you were ‘out’.” He makes quotation marks around the word, both of you missing the way Bakugou has his eyes locked onto you—or more importantly, your side. Shinsou gestures for you to sit down, and you make your way around the couch slowly whilst the two men you had scared scamper to sit elsewhere.
“I’ll be blunt with you. You’ve been out for nearly three weeks in total. We would’ve tried to pull you out faster but… you have some very impressive chrome. It took me two weeks to break your defences and even then you rejected me in a heartbeat.”
Your eyes break away from Shinsou as he explains your ‘absence’ to watch Bakugou as he tentatively perches on the arm of the couch right next to you, both of his arms crossed over his chest. But the things Shinsou is saying make no sense, you hadn’t pushed him out, it was—you scrunch your eyebrows together, the headache still ever present in the back of your mind the harder you think.
The silence stretches out in the room, just the sound of the TV droning on about Militech moving towards renewing partnerships with Lazarus.
Shinsou clears his throat, demanding your attention once again. “Your wounds actually healed by themselves. You have synthetic muscles but they’re something else. No one has ever seen something like that, even Uraraka said it’s not something Rippers can get their hands on.”
“Yeah… you weren’t actually breathing by the time we got you back here… I—We thought you were going to die.” Kirishima supplies from his position behind the couch, both of his hands clamped on the back of it and you can see the worry settled on his face when you look up at him. So you were dead for a portion of time, had all your chrome and cyberware saved your life? If what Shinsou said is true about your muscles repairing themselves then the time locked into your consciousness made sense.
Shinsou seems to notice the shift in the air first, clearing his throat before he stands up. He gives a stern look towards both Kaminari and Sero who are blatantly staring at you as if you were some anomaly. “We should go.”
“But—” the one with the yellow hair and black streak starts, eyes darting back to you with a question that was probably best unasked.
“Nope. Get the fuck up, we’re leaving.” Shinsou commands, already partway out of the door and he knows Sero and Kaminari will follow as he doesn’t bother looking back.
And soon enough, it is just you, Kirishima and Bakugou who looks like he’s about to shit himself with how tense he is next to you. It’s awkward, to say the least. You’re not quite sure what you should say, sorry for the trouble? Sorry for not dying? You’re sure that last one would apply to Bakugou, he had wanted you gone.
“Why?”
It’s Bakugou who breaks the silence, his head held now between his hands as he stares intently down at his shoes; knee bouncing, he’s anxious. You glance at Kirishima but the redhead just shrugs, urging you to look back at Bakugou. “Why what?”
“Why the fuck did you take the hit, huh?” His eyes meet yours, and you can’t miss the white of his eyes partially red, he was on the verge of tears. “Why the fuck would you do that when I mean nothing to you? It makes no fucking sense, no one just jumps in front of a bullet for someone. I wouldn’t have fuckin’ done it for yo–” He stops himself short, chewing on the words on his tongue that are better left unsaid. But the words still sting the same regardless of how true it is: Bakugou would not have taken a bullet for you, he would not have risked his life for you. Why did you care so much?
“I don’t know.” But it’s not the answer Bakugou is searching for, a frown is on his face but it’s not quite the same as the usual one you often saw him wearing. This one looked pained and confused. He diverts his gaze quickly, refusing to look at you once again before running a hand through his hair. “I guess I felt like I owed you for saving my life.”
Bakugou only gives you one last glare before he’s up from his spot and marching back out of the room, leaving an icy chill in his wake that makes Kirishima sigh.
“He means to say thank you, it’s… been a lot for him. We really did think you’d die on us back there, and I think Bakugou didn’t want another death on his conscience that wasn’t done by his own hand.”
Kirishima stands to his full height when you do, both his hands buried into the pockets of his jacket. “Anyway, let’s just go back home, yeah? You probably want to shower.”
“Tellin’ me I smell, Kirishima? You don’t smell of roses yourself big guy.” You grin when he smiles at you, the banter between the two of you is easy. His shoulders sag with relief before he’s strutting out of the room before you.
“Nah, not roses. Just pure manliness.”
“Manliness smells like a Maelstrom cesspit?” Kirishima whirls on you with his mouth agape, a chuckle leaving his mouth.
The city opens up to both of you when you step out of the doors, the difference this time being it’s the middle of the day and the streets are bustling with people going to and fro with their plans for the day. You take a deep breath in, Kirishima still rattling on just next to you about how Maelstrom actually doesn’t smell that bad. You break into an easy smile, a genuine laugh leaving your mouth for the first time in a long time.
A tingle runs up and down your spine, the shard slot on your neck buzzing as if someone was tugging on it, you look in the opposite direction of Kirishima to see if perhaps there was a nearby jammer or Netrunner who tripped on your own network.
But instead, you’re faced with something that makes it feel like you’ve been submerged beneath icy waters, your bones rigid and muscles tightened.
Standing idle amongst the moving crowd is a large man, with broad shoulders but that isn’t what makes him stick out like a sore thumb. It’s not the corporate suit he’s wearing, but rather it’s the mop of green hair on his head accompanied by emerald eyes that are wide with mirth when you meet his gaze over the crowd. You can see his lips move, but it's like his voice is deep in the back of your brain.
‘Soon.’
Kirishima calls your name from your side, drawing your attention back to him for a split second before you glance back towards the crowd. The man was gone. “All good? Do you need more blockers?”
“Huh?” You blink up at him, blockers? Oh. Meds that rippers always pumped you full with whenever you had any amount of cyberware. When was the last time you had taken some anyway? “No, uh, I’m fine, thank you. Think I just need a real sleep.”
“You just woke up from like a month-long nap, you’re telling me you’re still tired?” He grins down at you, guiding you back down the familiar street.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The door to the apartment slides open with a hiss, revealing the dim lights of the amber overhead lights. Bakugou was home. Kirishima steps in first, shedding the thick jacket he had on to toss it onto one of the hooks. You followed after him easily enough, it hadn’t felt like so much time had passed but looking around the apartment you could see it.
Things had been moved, the plant on the window ledge had blossomed and grown beautiful red leaves. Stepping further into the apartment, you watch Kirishima disappear behind a black glass door that slides open for a split second to reveal Bakugou who was hunched over what looked like one of his rifles before the door slid shut.
You had been forbidden to enter the armoury, it was for Bakugou and Kirishima only. Bakugou had come with that rule, you couldn’t blame him but it wasn’t as if you needed their weapons. The thought of the gun embedded in your arm makes it ache, a tingling sensation that numbs your fingertips momentarily. Sitting down on the couch, you let out a sigh of relief when your muscles finally decompress and relax.
Despite your body relaxing your mind was still running far too fast, too many thoughts bouncing back and forth—you suppose it’s from the fact you were connected to the Net with no blockers, all that information could fry someone's brain and you’re just glad it hadn’t happened to you.
The peace and quiet doesn’t last long however, soon enough the entrance door opens with a whoosh and you turn in time to see a multitude of people walk in. You recognise two by name; Aizawa and Shinsou. You recognise both men with yellow hair and black hair, but there’s a woman with them that you haven’t met before with short dark purple hair.
“What the fuck are you all doin’ in my fucking house?” Bakugou growls from near the armoury, arms crossing over his chest.
“You didn’t think we’d let you walk away with the coolest new member of the gang, right?” The one with yellow hair flops into the seat next to you, long gone is the fear he had shown just earlier that day.
He grins at you when you stare at him, “Denki Kaminari, but you can call me whatever you want.” Kaminari offers with an easy smile, earning him a snort from the black-haired man who smacks him on the back of the head.
“Ignore him. Name’s Sero, it’s nice to meet you without a gun pointed in my face.” You shake his hand when he offers it to you, still wordless at how they’re effortlessly welcoming you into their gang.
“Don’t fucking ignore me!” Bakugou finally yells, but no one flinches at the volume of his voice. “What the fuck are you all doing in my house?!”
“New job.” Aizawa supplies, and immediately the room plummets into silence. “I know it’s only been hours since you woke up, but we really could use your help on this next one.”
Bakugou moves to open his mouth, but Shinsou jumps in. “You’re the only one here who can disappear from someone's optical enhancements. Do you know how rare that is? We wouldn’t be asking you to do this if we didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off without any problems.”
Aizawa continues, “You won’t be doing it alone of course. The whole crew will be going, but you will be the key player in this job, you’ll have to be the one to go in first.”
“When?” is the first thing you ask, and all eyes shift to you.
“In three days. Ideally, we would’ve done it sooner but I figured you might want to rest first. From what I hear, you had quite the trip on the Net.”
Aizawa notices the way your eyebrows furrow, “Shinsou was in there with you, but it was Jirou–” He points over his shoulder at the girl, who raises a hand for a moment. “–who broke through your defences. Apparently, there was some resistance from an outside source. Got anyone who'd be interested in protecting the data in your head?”
You shake your head, the only outside source may have been the man with green hair but even then you weren’t sure if he was real or not. You hadn’t been on blockers, you had been using your chrome carelessly. It could just be exhaustion.
Aizawa just nods his head, turning his attention to both Kirishima and Bakugou before gesturing with his head for them to come to talk to him privately. Kaminari and Sero both dive instantly at the chance to talk to you, gushing over the cyberware you were sporting. Apparently, they had never met someone who lived to tell the tale after having so much changed.
Aizawa sighs when he’s away from the group, slumping against the wall whilst Bakugou and Kirishima stand before him. Kirishima looks tense, and Bakugou is… well, Bakugou.
“You remember the original job?” Both men nod. “The package you were ordered to retrieve is Arasaka’s countermeasure to the new power Militech has come into. Jirou had a look at it and apparently, it’s some sort of advanced AI that can short-circuit everyone in its vicinity and even cause people to spiral into Cyberpsychosis.”
“What the fuck?” Kirishima murmurs, keeping his voice down so as to not alert the others.
“What’ve you done with it?” Bakugou asks, not missing the wince on Aizawa’s face.
“Handed it back to them.” Bakugou’s frown deepens, lip curling to reveal gums and canines but Aizawa jumps back in. “I didn’t have a choice, Bakugou. It was tracked, after you left with the girl they sent some jacked-up chrome head to come and pick it up.”
Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, gripping at the roots. This was bad. Arasaka were pieces of shit when it came to cyberware and if they were going to hit Militech with this then another corporate war would definitely be on the cards. “Shit, fuck. You sure it was an Arasaka guy that came to pick it up, not someone working for D—?”
“No, if I picked up on his chip, I would’ve put a bullet between his eyes myself.”
“Not if I do it first.” Bakugou snarls, earning a nod of approval from Kirishima. “Fucker already ruined our lives enough, we don't need him to get his hands on something that could kill us all.”
“You think they know about her?” Kirishima prompts after a beat of silence, all three men turn their attention to watch you on the couch. You were still static, Kaminari arguing with Sero about something whilst Jirou and Shinsou teased Kaminari about whatever it was. You looked out of place but at the same time, it felt as if you were always meant to be amongst the crew. You smiled easily, even laughing along with the group.
“I don’t doubt it. Jirou said the outside source that was blocking her from hacking into the system was military grade. She has something important to someone very wealthy. With this next job, stick close to her. If Arasaka makes a move, they’ll be trying to take her out first. If Militech makes a move…”
Aizawa shares a look with Bakugou before the blonde nods in understanding. “Good. Good luck on this next one, you’re going to need it when working with those idiots.”
Both men watch Aizawa leave before joining the rest of the gang on the couch, Bakugou sinks into a spot opposite of you and Kirishima slumps himself not too far from everyone, his legs spreading as he fully reclines into the seat. All attention is still on you, and Bakugou can’t help but keep his eyes locked on you.
“We should celebrate!” Kaminari grins, practically bouncing in his seat at the prospect.
“Celebrate what?” Kirishima is the one brave enough to take on Kaminari, effortlessly shifting the attention away from you momentarily.
“The newest member, obviously! I think we should show her a good time.” There’s a series of groans, a squawk of indignation from Kaminari whilst Sero berates him for always making everything an innuendo. Yet Bakugou can’t find it within himself to fight the decision, his eyes watch the way your eyebrows lift in interest before a smile brightens your features.
Maybe he’ll go along with it, just this one.
...
Part of him wishes he had fought Kaminari on some part of it. It was no surprise that the bar hopping eventually led them to visit Jig-Jig Street. It wasn’t the nicest place to be, it was the rundown part of Japantown that people often went to when they were desperate enough to get their dick wet.
Jig-Jig Street was the red light district of Night City, where you could ‘buy love’ by the hour or even get in contact with dealers who would sell you the most exotic of drugs or enhancements that would cost you a pretty penny. It was dangerous too, something that Bakugou often argued about whenever the others tried to drag him here. Too many times he had come home with a nasty black eye or even in the back of a police car from the fights that broke out here.
The crude flashing neon signs had Bakugou hunching in on himself, practically snarling at Denki who dared to poke fun at the gigantic blonde. Thankfully, it’s Kirishima who once again saves the day by shooing Kaminari away with the rest of the gang before he draws Bakugou in by his shoulder.
Bakugou just grunts, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest before his eyes drift towards the redhead who’s now staring down at him.
“What?” Bakugou barks, modified canines adding to the visage of him being a feral dog.
Kirishima just laughs, “Loosen up man, let Denks have his fun. I have a feeling this next job is going to be a hefty one.”
Bakugou shakes his head, squaring his jaw whilst he mulls over Kirishima’s words. He supposes Kirishima isn’t exactly wrong; this next job feels like there’s a heavy weight resting on them. An expectation of something; something that Bakugou hasn’t quite figured out yet.
His eyes drift over towards you, embedded right in the middle of their little group. You still were a little bit stiff, eyes blinking owlishly whenever Kaminari came on a little too strong—but the alcohol had helped you loosen him, he thinks, you seem to smile a lot more now.
“Whatever, get the fuck off me.” Bakugou snips, shoving Kirishima’s hand off of him and Kirishima knows not to take it to heart. Instead, he steps aside, watching his oldest friend stalk away into the crowd to god knows where.
Bakugou wades through the crowds, dodging the half-naked bodies and the people high out of their minds who attempt to grab at him for his attention. He hated this part of town, it was the worst part of Night City – besides the gang wars and other shit the corpos got up to.
But this was a display of the depravity of the city, a show of just how long people would sink to feel something in this shithole of a city.
Finally, Bakugou breaks out of the crowd into the open street. It was empty, given that it was nearing three in the morning. He lifts his head to stare at the sky, the overcast clouds enough to make him grumpier. The rain always fucked with his chrome, the cold chill that came with it would send it haywire.
Glancing back, he can’t see the group he came with anymore and something in him itches to find you and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble that naturally comes with both Sero and Kaminari.
“Running away?” A voice comes from his side, and it takes the years of experience that comes with being a hired gun to not jump out of his skin. His head snaps down, and a shiver rolls down his spine when he meets your gaze.
“Yeah,” he admits, surprisingly, “Can’t fuckin’ stand this place. And you should split when you can too, you’ll end up getting roped into a threesome or some shit.”
That makes you purse your lips in an attempt to smother laughter before the corner of your lips threatens to break into a smile, there’s an easy air around you. You seem more relaxed, most definitely because of the drinks you had been throwing back when Kirishima challenged you.
“Nah, Kirishima let me leave.” Bakugou arches an eyebrow at that, Kirishima had known you were leaving too? That motherfucker. He knew you’d come following after him, like a moth to a flame. “Figured it’d be safer to walk home with you than try and navigate my way out of here.”
That has Bakugou nodding in agreement, the fuzziness of tonight's drinks softens his need to put his guard up around you. “C’mon, it’s about to piss down and I’m not getting caught in it.”
He’s already walking away, and it doesn’t take long for you to match his stride. Your own hands are buried in the pockets of the orange jacket Kirishima had given you all that time ago – did you know it was his? He bought it with one of his first paychecks, it was in one of his favourite shades of orange but somehow it looked much better on you.
His eyes drift away from the jacket you’re wearing and up to your face, you’re eyeing the signs as you walk by. They’re a range of ads for braindances that plunge you into a full-blown porno and ads for physical enhancements for stamina. It’s no surprise that everything in this part of town was about sex, Japantown practically ran off of it.
But his eyes catch on your bottom lip, how you worry it over with your teeth and squint a little like you’re not really reading everything that goes by.
“Somethin’ on your mind?”
“Huh?” You look up at him finally, and it makes Bakugou’s chest flutter with something unknown. It takes everything in him to push it down, chalking it to the previous train of thought about advertisements.
“What you worrying about? Yer gonna chew through your fuckin’ lip if you keep overthinking whatever it is.”
The way your eyebrows draw together and your face nearly crumples makes him want to backtrack, but instead you wipe your face of whatever emotion you had just felt.
“It’s hard to explain. More of a feeling than anything.”
Something Bakugou isn’t good with, he’s not one to talk about his feelings or whatever the fuck is plaguing his mind. “Just spit it out.”
You follow him up the steps to the large apartment building, and yet you remain silent as you try to mull over the words you want to say. Bakugou expects you to just ignore his request, and he doesn’t blame you. He’d never talk about his feelings even if someone held a gun to his head.
Once inside the apartment, he watches as you sidestep around him to go and stand before the large window. Pressing a button to let the metal shutters roll upwards in quick succession until the district of Japantown is exposed to you. It’s a sea of neon lights, people ebbing and flowing like water as they move around each other without ever looking away from the devices in their hands or implanted in their minds.
“Can I show you?” You speak finally, once he shucks off his jacket and flings it onto the back of the sofa. He eyes you for a moment, show him? Show him what, your feelings? His nose crinkles in thought, but he finds himself relenting. The liquid courage he drank earlier makes itself known when he relaxes on the sofa.
“Sure,” and you’re turning to look at him as if you expected him to shout at you or worse. But you don’t comment about it, scared to lose your chance so you move over to him. Settling into the seat next to him he can’t help but notice you don’t budge him at all, your own weight nothing compared to his own — had you always been this tiny?
“You gonna kiss me or some shit?” He blurts when you turn to face him, your knee pressed into his thigh and he tries to not think about the bareness of your legs. You snort, however, shaking your head.
“No, nothing like that.” And you’re reaching for him despite that, his body grows rigid beneath your touch. Your fingers are gentle as they stroke along the smoothness of his neck before they card up through the short hairs of his undercut at the nape of his neck. You’re so close he can see the intricate thin strips of metal that help with your enhanced eyesight.
He doesn’t find himself moving away, but rather leaning into the gentleness of the touch.
“Hold still,” is all you supply before he feels something slip against the back of his neck, the plating shifting and moving until his body involuntarily jolts. Everything in his body yells at him to move, to stop you from doing whatever the fuck you’re doing but it’s too late. The connection is made and he’s plummeted into darkness.
There’s a blinding light and he blinks it away, only to find himself submerged in what must be the depths of your consciousness. It’s similar to what he’d seen in his short dips into cyberspace when the time called for it, but this is different. He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, screens and flicking images dash around him.
Memories, he realises. Your memories from the moment you woke up and up until the very moment you sat down with him, but it’s not the memories you’re showing. Rather it’s the emotions connected to them, it’s bombarding his senses. He feels the tug at his heart, the fear that races up his spine when you first woke up in an unknown place and then the blissfulness you had felt when he took a bullet for him.
How could you feel at peace when you were going to die? It was too much for him to wrap his mind around, and quickly the emotion was changing. There was a sadness that weighed down on his body this time like his body was being pulled into icy waters when he heard the words he spat at you when you first woke up.
You felt sad? Bakugou didn’t know, it made his heart ache something fierce. He didn’t want you to feel sad because of him – fuck, he just wanted you to know how much it bothered him for you to dive in front of him like that. He wanted you to know just how much time he spent in that shitty docs office, watching your near-lifeless body repair itself before his very eyes.
But he couldn’t tell you that, he couldn’t tell you that Kirishima often was the one to wake him up from his slump across your lap in the mornings when he fell asleep hoping you’d just wake the fuck up and explain yourself.
Another jump in emotions, and he feels happiness – acceptance. You’re sitting among all his friends, and even with him in the picture, you feel like you found a place. Something in the memory makes his eyebrows raise, you glance at him and that feeling spikes. It feels like a thunderous amount of butterflies flutter in his stomach, rising up until they bombard his heart.
He hadn’t even known you were looking at him like that. Yet beneath all that, he could feel the melancholy that came with your circumstance. You don’t feel like you belong, or perhaps it was the reality of your previous life's existence that weighs heavily on you. You had unresolved business, and that’s something Bakugou can relate to fully.
The next time he blinks, he feels the pressure of your forehead against his own. The slipping of the cord from his plating and how your fingers curl a little more into the longer hair further up the back of his head.
“Do you get it now?” You’re the first to break the tension, your question but a whisper above the whirring of the fan above your heads.
And he thinks he does, that feeling that you couldn’t quite describe. You were content yet you were lost, you were happy yet you had a longing for something. You felt something towards him that was so indescribable it made his heart flutter. So he just nods, his own forehead pressing a little harder against yours to get it across that he truly does get it.
His hand cups your jaw, thumb rolling across the fullness of your cheek before it presses into the flesh just a little. Your breath smells sweet; faintly reminding him of the drinks the both of you had earlier in the night. He doesn’t suspect you’re drunk, he definitely isn’t but that soft buzz keeps him from thinking too much.
“It’s so confusing.” You admit, the word is just a breath against his lips and he finds himself wanting to swallow it. “I don’t want to think.”
That’s enough of a sign for him to make a move, his stomach churns with anxious excitement when he leans in. His lips finally press to yours in a tentative touch, your lips are warm and just as soft as they look. It draws him further, and further until his lips are moving against your own in a fluid movement.
You don’t fight him when his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you into position so you can’t escape when he pries your mouth open with his tongue. The sweetness is stronger on your tongue, tangy with alcohol yet intoxicatingly enjoyable when he explores you like he might never get the chance again.
It’s like everything explodes at that point, Bakugou grows insatiable; he needs to taste you. He needs to know you inside and out, this hunger pooling low in his stomach and burning a river of fire down to his groin. It makes him groan into the kiss when you offer a reprieve for a quick breath, he nips and bites at your bottom lip to see if he can pull any noises from you.
And he delights in it when he can, your moans are so foreign to him yet it’s a heady feeling. It has him tugging at you until you’re situated over the tops of his thighs, and in a fluid motion, he’s standing. His hands cupped under your ass, squeezing and massaging the flesh that he’s never had the chance to feel before.
It takes him no time at all to cross the space from the living room to his bedroom, the door sliding open and closed with a hiss before the automatic locks click into place. He tosses you from his grip onto the plushness of his bed, the sheets still rumpled from the morning when he didn’t bother to make it.
Bakugou looms over you like a predator, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths – you’re no better than he is, your lips are swollen and wet from his ministrations. Your heavy breathing only accentuates your breasts, drawing his attention down to them to see the rise and fall of your chest. His fingers move automatically, tucking underneath his shirt to tug it over his head.
It’s flung off into some unknown direction, and when he looks up you’re leaning up. Your fingers skate along the sharp edges of his muscles, pressing into the places where the fat resides. Then you trace along scars that are white and some that are pink; you’re transfixed on him. It makes him preen under your gaze, and in your momentary distraction, he undoes the belt on his jeans before they’re pushed down too.
The smile you give him makes his heart pitter-patter in his chest, you’re smiling up at him as if he’s the world to you. But the rational still-sober part of his mind insists that it’s just for the sex – he’s just a one-night stand to you and the feeling is mutual. Right? That is what Bakugou wants out of this, right? The tension in his stomach is unnerving, something akin to nausea at the idea of letting this not blossom into something more.
But he doesn’t get to ruminate on it further, your fingers drift downwards along the deep V on his hips until you’re at the top of his boxers. Automatically his fingers stroke up along your jaw, across your cheek until he’s hooking his fingers to the back of your head when you start to lean in closer.
The feeling of your lips against the hard outline of his cock makes him jolt and melt at the same time, the rumbling moan is deep in his chest. How long had it been since he was last with someone? Fuck, he doesn’t even know but he can’t focus when the tip of your tongue slowly drags up along the thick vein on the underside of his cock.
He must jolt too harshly because you laugh a little to yourself before you take pity on him. Bakugou wants to snap at you, shut you up for even daring to laugh at him but the words die on his tongue the second he even thinks of them. Your hands are undeniably soft when you wrap your hand around his hardness.
There’s a small crease between your eyebrows, an indication of either your concentration or perhaps your trepidation for what’s to come.
“Lie back,” he offers instead, your eyes drifting back up to meet his and you slip free from the hand hooked on the back of your head, the loss of your softness around his length leaves a longing that lingers in the depths of his stomach. This time he takes the time to undress you, sliding you free of the dress Mina had managed to wrangle you into.
It looked far too good on you, something he wouldn’t admit at the start of the night but his inhibitions continue to slip. “Look at you, so beautiful.”
His fingers skim up along the now bare expanse of your hips, brushing past your panties line and mapping their way up your sides. You’re just as scarred as he is, but yours are so different from his. He can see the almost invisible lines where someone has taken a scalpel to you and modified your body. Did you even know who did it?
He swallows the lump down in his throat, forcing his attention up to your breasts once his hands brush along the sides. His thumbs roll up over your nipples beneath your bra, the pebbled skin hard enough–sensitive enough to earn him a shiver of delight. The smile that brightens up his face is nothing short of sinful, it shows the modified canines and displays all his carnal desires without him having to even utter a word.
You lift your body up when he demands it, letting him slip you free of your underwear until you’re as bare as he is. And Holy fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. His eyes leave no part of you unseen, his gaze roaming over you until you’re practically squirming.
“Please.” You whisper, gasping when his fingers finally find a home in the width of your hips. “Stop staring and do something.”
That has an eyebrow rising in your direction. “Oh? Someone’s demanding when she wants something. You want me to hurry up and fuck you until you’re too dumb to remember your own name?”
“You’re too much.” You all but whine, and he imagines he’d be able to feel the heat in your cheeks if he were to lean in closer.
“You have no idea.” Bakugou grins, a sultry smile that has your hips bucking beneath his iron grip and he’s swooping down.
Lips pressing into yours in a much more hurried fashion compared to earlier; it’s a hunger that can only serve to work someone up until the point of completion. It has his tongue rolling into your mouth, brushing against the back of your teeth and trying to hear you choke on him when he’s bearing his weight down on you.
He’s positively devouring you, and his hands work to spread your legs wide for him on either side of the thickness of his own thighs. Then his fingers make their way down between your legs, brushing against the crease between where your thighs bend. You’re whining, moaning and biting back just as hard when he dares to bite your bottom lip.
He wants to fucking ruin you.
Bakugou draws his head back just enough to peer down at you, the light filtering in through the half-shuttered window highlights parts of you that are otherwise shrouded in the darkness. It illuminates the harsh rise and fall in your lungs, the way your nipples are pebbled in the cool air and the slight glisten on your inner thighs.
Finally, he indulges you. His fingers press between your folds to slide against your clit before they slowly venture downwards. His middle and ring fingers circle against your entrance teasingly slow, his lips parting to breathe in your whines for more.
His eyebrows crumple with your own when you moan at the intrusion of his thick fingers, his head is swimming with how intoxicating it is to be above you like this. To have this level of power over someone who could definitely kill him before he could blink.
The stretch is easy enough with how wet you got so quickly for him, and he groans all low and rumbling in his chest at just how tight you are. You’re so soft and velvety inside, your walls clenching rhythmically with your deep inhales.
For a moment, he just holds his fingers deep inside of you completely still. Relishing in the way you try to shift your hips beneath him despite how he’s pinning you down beneath the weight of his own body. It’s such a stark difference to the nervous wreck he’s seen you as, and so fucking better than the cold-blooded killer he knew you were deep down.
“Fuckin’ look at you.” He whispers into the heated air between the sparse gap between you two, his eyes half-lidded as they meet your own. You’re trying your hardest to glare at him, but you can’t quite fight the euphoric feeling of him curling his fingers just a little to shut you down.
“Who knew all it took to get you nice and compliant was to stuff you full with my fingers?” His tone is a little mean, a little condescending. The tears don’t come for you however, but he can see you slowly dropping into the headspace he wants you to be in.
“Please,” you beg—a plea, a sweet melody that Bakugou thinks he wants to listen to for the rest of his life. But this was just a one-night stand, right?
“Tell me what you want.”
“Just–... Move already, please.” He grins wide at the whimper at the end of your words. A small part of him wants to draw this out, make you suffer just a little but the rational voice in his mind tells him he’ll only get more out of you if he obliges.
So he does. His fingers crook upwards, brushing against the spongy spot that no one but he could reach with the length of his fingers. The reaction is immediate, you moan so sweetly that it has his own eyes threatening to flutter and roll into the back of his head.
You’re practically gushing around his fingers as he fucks them into you, repeatedly crooking his fingers in an attempt to see how quickly he could make you crumble beneath the palm of his hand. Your thighs tense up, squeezing around his own when you try to close your legs to stop the onslaught of his fingers.
Bakugou noses into your cheek when you tilt your head back, your lips parted as you try to breathe in. But he doesn’t give you the chance, he pushes you further into the bed with his weight, shifting his body up just slightly so your hips are forced to bend with him – then suddenly he’s fucking his fingers into you impossibly deeper.
His lips hover just next to your temple, panting heavily against you. It’s a task and a half to stop himself from painting the inside of his boxers that he’s still yet to remove. But he’s a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you cum on his fingers.
He doesn’t stop when he feels your hand clamp down around his forearm, the strength there is enough to stop a moving truck—except you’re distracted, lost in the pleasure that races up and down your spine until it settles in the back of your mind. You’re too lost in your own head to be embarrassed about the sloppy sounds between your thighs, his fingers forcing more and more juices from you until he’s certain his bed will be soaked through.
As much as Bakugou wants to watch your pussy take his fingers so well, he can’t move his gaze away from your face. You look like something they used to paint in cathedrals, an angel. Your head is thrown back into his pillows, eyes scrunched closed and mouth open to let your moans spill free. The light from outside bathes you in neon colours, catching on the metallic strips of your chrome.
Even if it is just a one-night stand, Bakugou doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the image of you in the throes of pleasure.
Especially not when you finally do reach your climax for him. Your hand at his wrist tightens immediately, your thighs lock up with a tension that would worry him if he wasn’t aware of the intricate materials that you were composed of. Your chest stutters, and your mouth opens wider until he’s gifted with the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard; a series of moans that grow breathier with each pass of his fingers.
“‘S too much.” You protest weakly, the hand that was wrapped around his wrist pushes in an attempt to free your swollen pussy from his long fingers. But he doesn’t pull out yet, only slowing down the roll of his wrist until finally he pulls free. Your entire body relaxes finally, muscles growing lax from where they’re wrapped around his waist.
“It only takes one time and you’re done?” Bakugou questions with a teasing arch of his eyebrow, watching in amusement when your head rolls slightly to glare at him. It’s a hardly-there glare but you still give it to him regardless, it makes him grin down at you. “Nah, you’re not done.”
You’re like putty in his hands with how easily he manoeuvres your body around, tucking both of your legs together before twisting your lower half to the side. A large arm keeps your legs held up and off to the side, whilst his unoccupied hand strokes along the rigid length of his cock. It aches, pearled with pre-cum from just watching you cream all over his hand.
He levels the tip of his drooling cock to your entrance, easily finding the hole that was previously spread so wide around just two of his fingers. The warmth is intoxicating, flooding his senses and clouding his mind. He doesn’t even notice you moving just slightly to slide a hand down over your hip to feel the length of his cock disappearing deeper and deeper inside of you.
The groan Bakugou lets out once his hips fall flush against your own is sinful enough to have you clenching around him, turning that beautiful groan into a hiss through clenched teeth. He snaps his gaze up to you, only to see your own gaze heedy with lust and half-lidded. He can feel every single inch of your velveteen walls, can feel the way you’re still panting and clenching around his cock.
He thinks he could die here, quite happily might he add.
A large hand comes down to your ass, shifting the flesh just enough so he can flit his eyes downwards and see the sticky mess that’s already tacking his pubic hair. That same hand comes back down again to level your ass with a firm spank, and it has you squeezing around him tight enough to stop him from rolling his hips back to start fucking you.
It’s enough to make him forget he’s fucking you raw.
“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard. You like it that much, hm?” Bakugou goads with a bite to his bottom lip when he feels you pulse at the tone he takes with you. With enough willpower, he rolls his hips backwards just enough to pull himself out halfway before fucking his cock back into you. “Tell me how much you like it.”
His stomach tenses when you brush the pads of your fingers against the tensed muscles there, his eyes drift away from where he was connected to you, along your arm until he finds your face. You’re looking him in the eye, eyelids heavy and lips parted when you moan low at the feeling of him rolling his hips smoothly once again.
“Say it,” Bakugou bares his teeth at you, the modified fangs in his mouth gleaming with the passing lights through the window.
“Bak—”
He moves before he can even think, faster than you can react. His hand engulfs the entirety of your lower face, thick fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks until he can feel the solid metal that was buried in your very muscles. Your eyes are wide, more alert but you don’t fight him surprisingly. Bakugou hunches his body over your own until his forehead connects with yours, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.
The angle he’s at now has your eyebrows crumpling together, mouth opening in a wordless moan—he’s so fucking deep that he’s pretty certain he’s pressed right against your cervix.
“No, use my fuckin’ name.” He growls in your face, hissing his words through clenched teeth. You’re clenching around him so tightly that his head feels like it’s filled with nanites, infiltrating his brain until all he can think about is you, you, you.
A harsh thrust of his hips has you gasping, he can see you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back and eyelashes flutter closed to bask fully in the pleasure. But you keep his gaze, sturdy and unyielding.
“Katsuki.”
He’s never heard his given name on your tongue before, so breathy and sweet that it has his pace faltering for a split second. His name sounded perfect when you said it like that, as if your very vocal cords were crafted just to moan his name like that—like an angel. Bakugou gives in to the urge to moan in return, jaw falling slack.
Your hand is delicate around his wrist, guiding him to free you from the grip he still had on your jaw to slide it downwards until he finds your throat. His fingers latch around it naturally, digging in just enough to have you gasping against his open and waiting mouth but not enough to hurt you. He can see that you enjoy it—can feel it in the way your pussy drools for him more.
The second his hand locks around your throat, everything empties from his mind. His hips move as if they were designed to fuck you, to feel your skin slap against his and to have your entire body jump with each harsh rut. Your moans vibrate against his palm, a shiver working its way down his spine whenever your moans grow louder, more desperate when he shifts his weight just enough to bully the tip of his cock against your cervix.
The hand around his wrist tightens, the tips of your nails digging into his flesh. It makes him hiss in pain, gritting his teeth to fuck you harder. His entire body glistens with sweat, dripping down along his hairline where strands of his ash blonde hair stick to his dewy skin. It pools in the hollow of his throat and builds along his biceps, which flex and bulge with the effort of keeping up his position hunched over you.
“G’nna—” You gasp, his hand instinctively closing around your throat before relaxing. “‘M g’nna cum.”
And fuck, if he thought you whispering his given name was hot then he’s not sure where that ranks. He’s not sure why he’s never considered just how hot it would be for you to admit you were close to orgasm, to inform him that he’s doing such a good job at fucking you that you’re about to cum.
“Yeah?” He huffs in the effort of his pace, suddenly rearing back and releasing your throat in favour of shifting your position. He throws your legs over his shoulders, large hands grasping at your hips to pull you to the edge of the bed properly. “Then cum.”
With his hands lower down on your body, Bakugou’s able to free one hand from grasping at the meat of your thigh to let his thumb roll over your clit with enough pressure to have your knees turning inwards and back arching off of the bed. The moan that comes you from is angelic, a sound that has his stomach twisting in anticipation and the need to cum—but not yet, he’s going to fuck you as much as he can before he reaches his end.
He can feel you clamping down on him, squeezing the ever-loving fuck out of him to the point where his hips are forced to take shallow thrusts. But his hand doesn’t give up on your clit; he switches to his fingers to pinch and cruelly swipe at your swollen clit. Your toes curl against the back of his head, and Bakugou finds himself leaning into the feeling—needing to feel every single part of you whilst your pleasure crests.
And when you do cum, Bakugou can’t help but groan alongside you.
“Fuuu—... That’s it, good girl.” His tone is a little breathy, his chest rising and falling with the quick breaths he has to take to keep up the pace to fuck you through your orgasm and beyond that. His hand drops away from between your thighs, sliding up to grab at your waist before moving you up along the bed whilst situating himself on top.
He tugs your legs down from his shoulders, wrapping them tightly around his waist—you move easily for him, so pliant and willing to do anything for him after he made you cum on his cock. Your thighs mould easily around the thinner part of his waist, your ankles locking naturally.
His cock remains buried deep inside of you, still savouring the aftershock waves of pleasure that have your walls throbbing around him. Bakugou leans down into your space, with one elbow to the side of your head whilst the other latches itself onto the headboard. You meet his gaze, finally gaining back some clarity.
“Back with me?” He grins, sharp teeth on display when he looks down at you. He wonders if you find him intimidating like this, you’ve shown you were somewhat afraid of him in the past—never stepping on his toes, or overstepping when he ordered you to stay the fuck out of his way. Part of him doesn’t want you to be afraid of him anymore, he wants to make you smile more, laugh more, moan more—
A hand caresses itself along his cheek, drawing him out of his lust-ridden mind until he finds your eyes. Your thumb drags itself along the apple of his cheek, across the corner of his lips until you press your thumb against his lips. He’s not sure what’s enthralled him exactly, maybe it’s just the look in your eye—because you’re not looking up at him like you’re afraid, but rather you’re looking up at him with something scarily close to admiration.
Your thumb drops down from his lips and to his chin, and with the slightest of tugs you pull him down into your space. He collapses onto both of his elbows on either side of your head, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your face. He can smell you this close, a mixture of sweat and that sweet perfume Mina had bought for you.
Again, he doesn’t fight it when you pull him that final inch. Your lips are smooth against his own, so gentle and intoxicating. You kiss him like you want to savour this, savour him. And so he lets you, he lets you savour him just as he savours you in return. His mouth pries yours open easily enough, your tongue eager to meet his own in a smooth curl.
His hips begin to move on instinct, both of his thighs spread wide so he can thrust hard and deep. Your skin slaps against his, a wet sound that has the pit of pleasure in his stomach tightening and tightening with each passing second. His balls smack against the roundness of your ass, drawing up with the urge to spill deep inside of you—but he won’t, as much as he’d love to feel your walls milk him for all he’s worth.
You’re the one who breaks the kiss off, head falling back into his pillows whilst he props himself back up over the top of you. With a better view of your body, your tits that bounce with each rut of his hips, he finds himself standing right on the precipice of his climax. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic in their strength and depth—effortlessly fucking you through your next orgasm when you open your mouth in a silent scream.
“Fu-fuck, fuck,” Bakugou pants, his stomach clenches and his balls draw up tight. He pulls back suddenly from your space, away from the intoxicating heat that radiates off of your body to pull from your pussy entirely. His hand wraps around his cock and he fists it aggressively, thumb pressing against his head before he sucks in one deep breath, only to release it in a loud groan.
His cum comes in thick waves, drawing lines up along your stomach and up along your chest. You lay there, with your legs wide open and eyes half-lidded; watching him cum all over your body. Bakugou finds his hips still thrusting with each spurt from his cock, squeezing every last drop before tapping the sticky tip against your belly button where it had mostly gathered.
His entire body relaxes immediately, the weight of his responsibilities disappearing into nothing when he lets his mind bathe completely in that post-nut haze. You seem in the same mind, letting your legs droop at his waist and an arm coming to rest over your eyes, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
Slipping away from you, Bakugou doesn’t bother to pick up the clothes scattered around and instead beelines it for the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He pauses by the door leading out, he can’t hear any noise—hopefully, Kirishima was still out, if not then he’s going to be up Bakugou’s ass about fucking you.
Rummaging through a stack of towels, he finds a light and small one to wipe you down with. But as he’s about to re-enter the bedroom, he turns to see you’re standing up and looking around for your underwear.
“Where you runnin’ off to?” He gruffs, his own voice ruined from the session—he needs a drink of water, he makes a mental note.
You look up at him, quite like the image of a deer in headlights. “Uh, well—I just thought you’d want me to… go.”
Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow together before his eyes flit down to the ropes of cum still on your skin and he wants to ask if you planned on ruining your clothes with his cum. Instead, he shakes his head, stepping back into the dimly lit bedroom.
“Get back in bed, let me clean you up.” He watches as you stare at him for a second more, hesitating or debating on refusing his offer. But clearly your exhaustion wins out, because you turn with a drop of the dress in your hand and climb back in his bed, careful to not drip any of his cum on the sheets.
On the way past, he reaches down to a compartment in his wall to pull out two bottles of water. Placing them on the bedside table, he stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you. He can see you squirming under his gaze, the embarrassment starting to creep up on you but Bakugou can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed about the fact he was still completely naked. It felt good, with you.
You don’t squirm away when he wipes you clean, careful between your legs when he sees how puffy and swollen you look down there. But it still makes you flinch, a quiet gasp leaving your lips and it’s impossible to not smirk up at you before he drops the towel somewhere in the pile of abandoned clothes to be dealt with tomorrow.
Grabbing one water bottle, he offers it to you. “Drink up, and then actually get in bed. ‘M tired as fuck.”
He turns away when you take the bottle from him, still sporting that slightly bewildered look on your face as if you expected him to kick you to the streets—or rather, the sofa. Part of him does question why he’s letting you stay in his bed in the first place, but the idea of you going out to that shitty sofa after sex… it just doesn’t sit well in his chest.
He gives you the time to bury yourself beneath his sheets whilst he kicks the dirty clothes towards the far wall, next to the laundry basket before returning to you. You look tiny in his bed, made especially large to accommodate his height. You’re nearly lost beneath the thick sheets and mountain of pillows, it makes his lips curl into a playful smile before he crawls into bed with you.
You shift out of the way to let him lay down, the room dimming further until you were both plunged into darkness save for the passing lights through the slatted shutters on his window. He can still make you out in the dark, with his optics shut down and eyes naturally enhanced—he can see you’re looking at him over the top of the covers, debating on if you should still make a run for it.
“Fuckin’—...” He huffs a sigh, shifting under the sheets so quickly you don’t have the time to stop him. “Stop actin’ like I’m going to bite you or some shit.”
You curve into his muscle easily enough, moulding into the shape needed to be held close. His chin rests atop your head, thick arms looped around you. It’s odd—Bakugou wasn’t a hugger, definitely not a cuddler but having you in his arms, the smooth feeling of your softer skin beneath his and the warmth that comes from your very being is comforting.
His heart flutters in his chest when he can feel your arms slowly wrapping around him until you’re embracing him fully. You cling to him as if you were expecting him to rip you away at any given moment and ruin the moment. Has he really been that harsh to you? Sure, he’d been a bit of a dick when he first met you but you were choking out their only Ripper whilst holding a gun to their faces that’d eradicate them before they so much as blinked.
And sure, he had a tongue as sharp as a knife… fuck, maybe he was that harsh with you. He blames it lazily on the drink still in his system, despite the pestering fact in the very back of his mind that he worked most of it out of his system fucking you into his bed. It makes his head ache with the sudden rush of conflicting feelings, thoughts that clash over and over—
Forcing his eyes to shut and muscles to relax, he basks in the warmth of your much smaller body wrapped around his own and lets himself fall asleep.
You wake up feeling… warm. Not hot, nor cold. Comfortable too. The softness of the sheets around are some of the best you’ve felt in weeks, the blanket you’d been given to sleep with on the sofa was somewhat scratchy when you’d tuck it under your chin. This one is smoother, doesn’t catch on the thin intricate strips that are near-invisible to the naked eye that line your body.
There’s a weight across your body, a leg wedged between your own and a heavy arm draped over your waist. The warmth is coming from directly behind you, a solid press of muscle that breathes steadily against the back of your head. And if you glance just enough over your shoulder, you find a head of blonde hair that’s softened after a night of sleep.
Bakugou has himself plastered against you, completely. His face is buried into the back of your hair, and with him this close, all you can smell is him. His bed smells strongly of the aftershave he uses, and the man himself smells like your late-night activities—a musk that has your head in the clouds in remembrance.
You’ve never felt anything like that before. Not that you can remember, anyway. Bakugou treated you more than just someone he wanted to fuck, he didn’t toss you around or disregard the fact you had to cum too to enjoy yourself—he made sure you were on the same level as pleasure as he was, if not more. He kissed you like a lover would.
That last thought has your face heating, an odd feeling of butterflies fluttering up into your stomach until they settle in your lungs. It was ridiculous to have such a childish thought flit into your mind, Bakugou certainly wasn’t the type of man to settle down—his lifestyle didn’t fit with it.
You could tell just from the way he lived in his own home, he functioned to serve himself only—with the exception of Kirishima when he forgot breakfast. But outside of the walls of his apartment, his work lifestyle wasn’t fit for a partner in any sense of the word. He was a merc, mercs didn’t lock themselves down with someone because it was dangerous. Simple as.
Having a partner in Night City was the same as putting a target on your back. You became weak and vulnerable—something Bakugou would never let himself be. You knew that just from the weeks of living beside him.
“What’s got you thinkin’ so hard this early?” Bakugou’s voice is deeper, raspier in the mornings… and it’s impossible to not clamp down in longing that he was still buried inside of you.
He shifts behind you, one long deep breath in before he releases it. His muscles ease off of you when he breathes out, the weightlessness of sleep disappearing with each second. Instead, the arm that was slung over your waist grows bold in it’s movement. His large hand guides his fingers delicately over your skin, circling your belly button before meandering off until he finds your hip.
“Hm?” He nudges you with the tip of his nose, prompting you to glance over your shoulder at him. His eyes are smouldering, barely open and yet the red that stares back at you is bright. The long eyelashes you’ve never had the chance to see so clearly bat delicately against his cheekbones.
“Nothing, sorry for waking you.” You whisper back, and his eyes automatically drift down to watch the movement of your lips. The hand at your hip kneads softly at the flesh there before it moves lower, the tips of his fingers skirting up and down along your thigh. It’s enough to draw a harsh shiver up your spine, and in turn, causes Bakugou to let out a raspy chuckle.
“Yeah?” You pick up on the playful tone in his voice, a teasing grin growing on his face. “How ‘bout you make it up to me? Hm?”
You’re drawn to him biting on his bottom lip before his grin grows wider, watching you watch him—a back-and-forth dance to see who snaps first under the surmounting sexual tension in the room. The hand on your thigh slips down, hooking his fingers into your inner thigh to hoist your leg a little higher up on his hip. His cock is hot and hard where it presses between your thighs, the tip tapping against your clit.
Shifting himself up onto one elbow, partially hovering over you from behind, he finds your lips with his own. The kiss starts off softer than he kissed you last night, it’s not as hurried—not yet anyway. Bakugou kisses you like he wants to savour your flavour, to save the taste of you on his tongue. He tilts his head just slightly to delve in deeper, and then prying your mouth open with his.
His tongue is invasive, in the sense that he has to dive as deep as he can into your mouth. His tongue curls against the roof of your mouth, feels along the points of your teeth before he’s back to caressing your tongue with his own. The hand between your thighs spreads you lewdly beneath the blankets, a middle finger finding your clit before he strokes it down along your slit; wet and slippery for him.
Bakugou groans into your open mouth, before greedily going in again after the single breath he takes. This time the kiss is more energetic, more consuming. His cock twitches between your thighs, tapping against your thigh with its sticky tip. You can’t help but roll your hips back into him, push your ass out in invitation—
A loud bang in the living area has you both flinching, lips parting just enough for you to see the scowl starting to form on Bakugou’s face.
“Fuckin’ Ei. Just ignore ‘im.” His voice is harsh with desire, a low whisper that has your stomach tightening. Bakugou swoops back in, devouring your lips with more vigour, desperate to get what he wants now he knows that his roommate is awake—who knows when he’ll get a chance like this again.
He manoeuvres you on the bed, climbing over the top of you until you’re in a similar position as last night; your thighs at his waist and his hands pressed into the sheets on either side of your head. His cock bobs again between the two of you, smearing his pre along the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His lips part from yours once again, this time to chart a path down along your jaw and neck. He bites and kisses in tandem, sucking your skin until you can feel the bruises starting to blossom there.
Bakugou continues to consume you from the outside, pressing his hips down finally to relieve himself of the pressure building in his groin. He groans beautifully against your skin, a sound so intoxicating you can’t stop your eyes from rolling and your hands seeking purchase in his hair. It’s soft to the touch, and it doesn’t go unnoticed when you accidentally tug on it, his hips press harder against your own. Rutting his cock against your pussy.
“Shit, g’nna fuck you—”
“Yo, Bakugou!” The bedroom door opens with a loud hiss, and you can only squeak out in surprise when Bakugou all but presses you into the bed in an attempt to hide you. “I thought you said we had food in, and—... uh–...”
“Get the fuck out!” Bakugou snarls, reaching over to grab the closest thing to him on the bedside table. There’s a shift of his entire body, something flying through the air and the resounding plastic crunch of Kirishima being smacked by the poor water bottle that was launched.
“Sorry!” Kirishima back peddles it out of the room before Bakugou can scramble to find something else to throw, the door hissing to announce that he was well and truly out of the room.
The air is no longer thick with sexual tension, instead, there’s a lingering awkwardness that has Bakugou deflating on top of you. His face is buried into the crook of your neck, and you can feel the heavy sigh that’s pushed out of his body in acceptance that he won’t be fucking you again today.
“He’s such a fuckin’ idiot, can’t trust him to do shit on his own.” He grumbles against you, his lips so close you can feel each word forming on them. He leans up off of you, kneeling between your legs and you try your hardest to not grow embarrassed at your nakedness on display. He looks almost sad, defeated at the fact he knows he has to go deal with the red-haired giant that’s no doubt ripping apart his kitchen looking for food.
“Sorry,” he huffs, leaning down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips before he’s up and out of bed. “You can just sleep in here if you want. I know that eyebags said you need to rest after whatever the fuck happened so—just, rest here.”
You raise an eyebrow before realisation dawns on you; he means Shinsou. You smile at that, tucking the comforter back around you and burying yourself among the pillows. You watch as Bakugou blindly digs through his wardrobe, plucking out various clothes until he finds what he wants.
As if sensing your eyes, he glances over his bare shoulder at you with a wicked smirk on his face before bending down to draw his boxers up his legs. “The showers just in there, feel free to use whatever's in there.” He nods with his head in the direction of the bathroom.
“Okay, thank you.” You smile at him when he turns to look at you, he looks awfully handsome like this. Half dressed, a shirt in one hand and belt loose around his waist where he still has to button up his black cargo pants. He hovers for a second, fingers curling a little tighter around his shirt and you can see his jaw working to help him spit out the words he wants to say.
Except, he’s interrupted again by another bang—one that sounds suspiciously like the microwave door being broken. Bakugou groans in annoyance, running a hand through his hair before giving you one last glance just before he leaves the room.
You’re left in silence, the outside world still asleep despite the sun rising.
“You fucking idiot!” Bakugou yells, muffled but still loud enough that you feel like you’re in the room with him. The rest of the argument fades out into muffled voices, and soon sleep retakes you with the comforting smell of Bakugou still clouding your mind.
It isn’t until a handful of hours later that you emerge from the bedroom. It had quieted down soon after Bakugou had come out to confront Kirishima, and you managed to shower uninterrupted—you found clothes laid out on the bed for you, no doubt from Bakugou who must’ve heard the shower running at some point.
When the door hisses open, you’re met with the smell of beer and the voices of multiple people. People you’ve come to know as Shinsou, Sero and Kaminari. Of course, Bakugou and Kirishima are there too but the former is quiet as he watches the group yap about something he’s uninterested in.
“Nah, man. I’m telling you, she was looking at me.” Kaminari whines, earning him a snort of laughter from Shinsou and a shake of a head from Sero.
“You’re delusional, she’s a doll. They don’t see a thing.” Sero snickers when Kaminari pouts at that, leaning into Kirishima’s side who mockingly consoles him for thinking he had a chance with a doll.
The name is something that most people know, it was a way for people to get away with doing whatever they wanted to another person without the repercussions. Fuck a doll and they have their memory wiped by the end of it, confess murder and they’ll just smile at you. Dolls. You’d seen plenty of advertisements for it last night whilst visiting Jig-Jig Street, the idea of a chip like that existing made you feel sick.
A call of your name has your eyes blinking, snapping out of the trance and looking towards the source. Shinsou. Immediately Sero and Kaminari flinch in realisation that you were standing right behind them on the sofa, an unwanted reminder of when you had nearly blown them to pieces no more than 48 hours ago.
“How’re you feeling?” Shinsou asks, head tilting slightly.
“Fine, better than yesterday.” You smile back a little, eyes making their way automatically towards the ash blonde who sits with his knees apart on the opposite side of the sofa, an arm draped over the back of it and a beer can cradled in the hand on his thigh. “Still tired.”
“Even after you slept all day?” Kirishima asks next, and you make the mistake of glancing at him because he has a very knowing smug grin on his face. “Or maybe it was because you didn’t—”
“Oi, shut the fuck up.” Bakugou grunts before taking a sip of his drink, and you’re thankful for the intervention. You use the momentary distraction created by Bakugou to slip into a seat, finding the only place available between Bakugou and Shinsou—there’s a large enough gap that you know was reinforced by the blonde.
Bakugou only offers you a sideways glance when you settle into the seat next to him, you can feel him watching you; observing to see if you had any regrets from the previous night. But you have none, not a single one. You felt… happy. You didn’t have an overwhelming sense of dread sitting on your chest, instead you felt at ease. You relax into the plushness of the sofa, indirectly sinking into the spot where Bakugou had his arm slung over the back.
The conversation has already moved on, thankfully. All four of the men engaged in the conversation, with Bakugou drinking away at his beer whilst observing the group gathered.
“Do you remember that gig over in Watson?” Sero snorts, earning him a groan from Kirishima and a laugh from Kaminari. Sero flicks his gaze over to you, and you can see the mischief there when he realises he has an audience who haven’t heard the story.
“Hanta, don’t.” Kirishima whines, sinking into the seat with a large hand coming up to cover his face. You’ve never seen him quite like this; embarrassed. It was new, and you can’t help but smile at the idea of hearing something that would cause the giant of a man such emotions.
“But she hasn’t heard the story!” Sero exclaims, grinning from ear to ear as he leans forward to put his beer down on the coffee table. “Alright so, we had this gig over on the Northside, up in the Watson district. It was probably one of the easiest gigs to date, a simple in-and-out steal.”
You can feel Bakugou shift next to you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him grinning over the lip of his beer can.
“Anyway. It was me, Denki and Ei.” He gestures to each of them in turn. “And for some reason, big Red here wanted to be the guy to do the stealth portion of the mission.”
“Don’t look at me like that, Uraraka just installed some new cyberware. She said I wouldn’t make a sound!” Kirishima huffs when you shoot him an incredulous look. A man who was over 6 ft 7 was definitely not suited for stealth work. If anything, you would’ve picked Sero—lanky, tall, light-footed.
“You’re about as heavy as a bull, you’re heavy footed as fuck Ei.” Bakugou goads, a grin on his face when Kirishima turns the glare his way.
Sero snickers, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We were meant to just steal this van, apparently it was Maelstrom property but we needed what was in it. All Kirishima had to do was sneak in, hotwire the van and get the fuck out of there. Instead, he trips every alarm known to man and has to hightail it out of there in a van with only two wheels.”
Bakugou offers a laugh, a genuine laugh at the memory of Kirishima returning to the hideout with a van hanging on for dear life.
“What about the time we had to eradicate that Daemon on the Net?” Kaminari snickers, which in turn has Shinsou turning his sights on him. “Shinsou popped a boner when his connection was flooded with those sex toy ads.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Shinsou growls, and you watch quietly when he lashes out at Kaminari who dares to laugh in his face. “I told you, the next time you tell someone that shit I’m—”
The conversation fades out slowly, your eyes focused on the spot in the centre of the coffee table. Daemons on the Net. Something about that sounds too familiar, would the man you saw in your own subconscious connected to the Net count as one of those daemons? Has someone injected you with something to cause a break in your cyberware?
You can still hear his voice, calling out your name. You could still feel the shards of glass he shattered in your mind, in your soul. They were lodged so snuggly against your vital organs, pressing yet waiting to be given the order to execute. That happiness you had felt just moments ago is washed away, replaced with the reminder that you were clueless as to who that man was—clueless to who you are.
A nudge to your foot has you blinking rapidly, glancing down to see Bakugou had knocked his foot against your own. You look at the man at your side, only to find his eyes already set on you. His hand is empty of the beer can he was drinking, and he’s staring at you like he was able to see your inner struggle.
“C’mon.” He grunts, standing up suddenly and you have no choice but to follow after him. You follow him towards the front door of the apartment, where he suddenly turns to you with the black and orange bomber jacket you’ve grown attached to. You don’t fight him when he throws it over your shoulders, holding the arms to help you with putting it on.
“Where you goin’?” Kirishima calls from the living area, all of the guys turning their heads to watch you adjusting the jacket on your body whilst Bakugou does the same with his own riding leather jacket.
“Out. Need more beers, figured I’ll take this one with me to save her from you guys being a bunch of freaks.” That earns him a number of groans and insults. “Shuddup, last time you were left with a girl alone, you all had to stiff leg it out of there.”
He doesn’t wait for the next round of insults hurled his way, instead, he pushes you out of the door first before letting it shut with an audible hiss behind him. You can still faintly hear them arguing through the door but Bakugou shows no issue with the fact he probably just left his own apartment to delve into chaos.
Bakugou leads you down the stairwell that leads to the garage, he holds the door open for you once you reach your destination and you’re met with a large parking lot. You’ve never been in here before, all the times you went out it was with Kirishima and he was adamant about walking around Night City instead of driving—he hated traffic just as much as the next person it seemed.
You follow behind Bakugou like a lost puppy, eyes darting from car to car. All of them ranging from heavily modified or straight-up pieces of junk that should be scrapped for a few Eurodollars. When he comes to a stop at the end of the garage, a light flicks on overhead to show the sleek black motorbike you saw when you had been first introduced to Aizawa.
Bakugou steps off to the side, rummaging around through a bio-coded locker which leaves you to investigate his motorbike a little more closely. It’s beautiful, obviously one of the pride and joys of the ash blonde. Your fingers ghost delicately along the smooth leather seat, it looks untouched—or rather, well-loved and cared for.
You tilt your head to look down along the expensive body, eyeing the fact there wasn’t even a single scratch on it. Just how well did he care for this bike? Your eyes spot what you’re looking for; Yaiba.
“It’s a modified Kusanagi CT-3X, if you’re wondering.” Bakugou finds himself next to you, one helmet perched atop his head and forcing the hairs down into his eyes, the other is under an arm.
“A rare Arasaka bike, right?” Bakugou nods at your words, an eyebrow arched as if he’s impressed you even knew that—to be fair, so are you. Your mind buzzes at the information you’re able to pull effortlessly from the bank of information sitting in your mind. “One of the fastest and most expensive bikes out there, how’d you get it?”
“Callin’ me cheap now?” He sneers but there’s no heat to it, he grins when you turn to look at him. He adjusts the helmet under his arm, holding it up to you so he can place it carefully over your head. “It was something I got with my first real paycheck, I always wanted one. Even as a kid when I lived in Tokyo, Yaiba had some of the best bikes out there and I just knew I wanted one.”
You smile up at him when he reveals just a slither of his past. So he wasn’t from here, it made sense. There was something about him that was never truly comfortable about being in Night City, no matter how long you live here—you’re never truly a part of the city as an outsider. Bakugou’s careful in pulling down the helmet, pressing a button on the inside before pushing down his own helmet.
“You hear me alright?” He questions, and you have to stop yourself from flinching at the voice in your ears. You nod at him, and you can hear him snicker quietly over the Bluetooth connection between the two helmets. “Alright, let’s get going before Ei comes and hunts us down.”
He slings a leg over the bike effortlessly, the entire thing bouncing on it’s suspension before he looks over at you through the small lifted gap of his visor. You hesitate for a moment, glancing from him to the seat behind him—if you can even call it that, there’s hardly any room and you’re going to be pressed up right against him. Why does that even matter when you were naked and under him this mor—
“Stop thinking and get the fuck on.” He grumbles, going as far as to reach over to grasp at your forearm to tug you forward. You have no choice but to clamber ontop of the bike behind him, your hands coming to loosely grab at the material of his leather jacket. Bakugou sighs heavily through the comms, using one hand to grasp at each of your hands individually to secure them snugly around his chest. “Hold on, this thing goes fast.”
The bike rumbles to life beneath you, Bakugou no doubt revving it on purpose to make you scoot closer to ensure you weren’t going to slip away when he put his foot down. You cling to him, your arms tucked tightly around his ribcage and head tilted so you’re not poking the front of your helmet into his back.
Soon enough, you’re out on the road, and you’re amazed by just how easily Bakugou moves the bike with his own weight. He makes it seem effortless when he weaves in and out of traffic, how he bends easily forward forcing you to move with him so that he can pick up speed. You can only watch the world blur past, streaks of rain hardly leaving a mark against your visor from just how quickly you’re going.
You cling to Bakugou, hands grasped tightly on his stomach. You can feel each of his muscles under his shirt, they tense and hardened when he rounds corners much too quickly. He sits back up from his leaned position, forcing you backwards and tilting your head to look over his shoulder. You can see from the speedometer that he’s way above the legal speed limit, hitting a solid 150mph.
The wind and rain batter against the exposed strips of skin on your body, and your hands sting like you’ve been pelted with a million little rocks but you can’t complain too much. The rush, the adrenaline, it’s something else. You feel weightless when Bakugou expertly rounds corners or when he picks up speed along a long stretch of road, weaving between cars that beep and no doubt scream at him for being such an idiot.
“Look to your right,” he speaks into the microphone that’s connected directly to your helmet, his voice sounds calm—at peace. This was his peace, his getaway. To speed his way through a city that could kill him in the next moment.
You do as he says, glancing to your right to see… you. It’s a clear reflection along some corporate building, you can see yourself attached to his back holding on for dear life. The city on the other side of you is bright, flickering and flashing despite the downpour of rain. You didn’t notice it when you were in the garage but Bakugou had modified his bike to light up, the inner trim of the wheels is set alight with bright neon orange lights.
In a moment of bravery, or perhaps stupidity. You let go. You can hear Bakugou over the comms shouting at you to grab ahold of him again but you feel free. Weightless. Truly weightless. You can’t hear that man's voice in your head anymore, you can only hear the howling wind and the beat of your own heart. You can’t feel that barrier in your mind, splintered and fractured, irreparable because you’re free.
When your arms extend out at your sides, you can feel a frantic hand grab at the fabric of your jacket. Bakugou holds you in place whilst you let yourself go; to feel free, for the first time. Your heart races in your chest, the feeling like nothing you’ve ever experienced before in your life and you want to cling to this feeling, to this freedom. To the man in front of you, the one who had gifted you that freedom so easily.
The reflection of the two of you disappears quickly, the building left behind and you can’t help but grin when you finally hear Bakugou again over the whistling wind.
“I swear to fuckin’ god, I won’t be scooping your brains off the road. Put your arms back around me!”
You laugh into the helmet, wrapping your arms once again around his body. You can still feel the tension in his back but it melts just slightly when you grasp tighter than before, holding the entirety of your body against his own.
“You got a death wish or somethin’?!” He still growls despite you being reattached to him, and you give him another laugh that makes his shoulders sag just slightly in relaxation. “Fuckin’ idiot—...”
“Thank you for bringing me out tonight.” Your words are met with silence, your head comes to rest against the broadness of his shoulders comfortably as you watch the world pass by. The city eventually bleeds out into green, grass and trees that tower high into the sky. You’ve never been here before.
“Yeah, whatever.” Bakugou grumbles quietly, and if it wasn’t for the connection between your helmets you would’ve missed the bashfulness in his voice. “We’re nearly there so just hold on this time, dumbass.”
You let your body move effortlessly with his, swaying from side to side when he does sharp turns around corners that would have an inexperienced rider thrown off the back of their bike. The rain has started to lessen, only a light drizzle that drenches the back of your jacket and you only squeeze tighter around the single source of warmth.
Bakugou slows the bike down to a complete stop once he reaches the destination in mind, with a glance around you can see you’re in the middle of nowhere. There are a few houses dotted around, if you can call them that, they’re more like massive mansions.
“C’mon, keep that on and keep quiet.” Bakugou taps your thigh to get you to climb off the bike before he follows after you. You watch him manually move his bike to hide in the shadows behind some bushes and you’re furrowing your eyebrows immediately in confusion. Just what exactly was he planning?
He tilts his head in a gesture to get you to follow, taking you off of the road and down a steep hill that leads further into the underbrush. The city is obscured by the number of trees and large shrubs, and you nearly lose sight of Bakugou when he ducks in and out of the shadows—but as you watch him, you realise he knows his way through all of this a little too well.
“You’ve been here before?” You whisper over the link, and you see Bakugou glance over his shoulder at you for a moment before returning his gaze forward.
“Yeah, been comin’ here since I first moved here. It’s the only place with some real grass.” His voice lowered down to a whisper has your stomach set alight with butterflies. You continue to wordlessly follow him until he abruptly stops, throwing a hand back to grab at your forearm before pulling you down into a crouch next to him.
You peek around his shoulder, your eyes silently activating to see what he might be seeing. Immediately you hone in on a large SUV parked up on the ridge of the road, around fifty feet in front of you. There’s four heat signatures, all of them belonging to men who are in thick armour and strapped with multiple weapons.
“Arasaka.” You whisper to Bakugou, who quietly nods his head. He doesn’t move a muscle, holding your wrist tightly in his hand as if he’s waiting for them to just look in your direction and open fire. “They’re not holding their weapons, they’re not looking for anyone.”
“The Arasaka estate is up ahead. They’re still on guard dog duty.” Bakugou supplies, causing your eyes to move away from the group of men to the estate he speaks of. You can see it much more clearly with your augmentations active, you can see the heat signatures within and the overwhelming amount of security measures in place.
There’s an indistinctive shout causing you to dart your eyes back towards the group of people only to see them piling back into the car. Bakugou visibly deflates in relief, his hand around your forearm slips down to your wrist before he’s tugging you after him. You follow lowly just behind him, mindful of each step as you grow closer and closer to the edge of the underbrush. Bakugou exits first, standing to his full height which drags you up next to him.
When you glance around, you’re silenced by the view. It’s beautiful. Night City is in the distance, so wide and yet so tightly compacted into tall skyscrapers and tall flashing neon signs. Bakugou’s hand slips away from your wrist when you take steps towards the cliff edge that looks down on the lower level of residents, you can’t take your eyes away from the city before you.
It looked so… small. So dense and yet you knew the intensity of it all from the very moment your eyes opened in that ripper’s office. Night City was a vicious beast, a machine that chewed you up and spat you back out if you weren’t strong enough to survive—but when you look at it from here, look at how insignificant the people are and how tiny the city is. It’s almost impossible to comprehend.
“I come here when I need to clear my head,” Bakugou speaks clearly next to you, having taken off his helmet and holding it beneath his arm. You follow suit and remove your own, thankful for the fresh breeze and slight drizzle against your face. You glance towards Bakugou only to see his eyes set on the city before you, absorbed in his own thoughts. “Figured you could use it too.”
“It looks so beautiful from out here, but inside… it’s—”
“One of the worst places to live. Yeah, I thought it’d be great moving here all those years ago. But I was a dumb kid with a dumb idea, and now here I am.” Bakugou huffs, running his free hand through his flattened hair to re-fluff it before settling himself down onto the ground.
You take his lead and sit next to him, putting your helmet to the side and being careful to not let it roll off the edge of the small cliff in front of you. Setting your eyes back onto the city, you feel that sense of freedom again. You were free from the city, even for just a moment, you felt like you could breathe for yourself for the first time. Your heart wasn’t pounding, your mind wasn’t racing and your skin wasn’t itching in knowing what lay beneath it all.
“Any reason you spaced out when Dunceface started talking about Shinsou’s gig with the Net?” Bakugou inquires after a moment of silence, you turn your attention to him to find he’s leaning against his propped-up knees, head tilted in your direction. “Don’t gotta tell me shit but—”
“It just reminded me of when I was… healing.” You admit, not missing the way Bakugou visibly winces at the reminder of what put you there in the first place. “When I was in there… Something happened, and hearing Kaminari talk about Daemons—it made me think about why I can’t remember anything.”
“What, like someone’s infected your network or something?” Bakugou shifts slightly, raising his head to look at you properly with a level of concern that looks frankly terrifying on his face. He looks… worried.
“I don’t know, maybe? It’d make sense. I have this empty part of my head that I can’t access, like it’s been cut off from me or something. What if there’s a Daemon in my system? Or worse.”
“Shinsou would’ve picked up on that. Or even Jirou, she’s the one who said you had impressive firewalls inside that head of yours.”
A part of you wants to agree with him, because it does make sense. They would’ve found the source of whatever was wrong with you, but instead, they came out empty-handed and you, empty-headed. But you can’t shake the vision of that man, the blurred green of his eyes and then when you saw him in the street… something just wasn’t right.
“Maybe you’re right. I just—it’s scary, y’know? Not knowing who I am.” You whisper that last part, and Bakugou’s eyes turn from concern to a shade of pity. He shifts himself closer to you, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulders to pull you in close until your head is tucked against his shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter who you were, that’s what I always told myself when I moved here. I’m not the same guy as I was back then, I found myself. I found a new purpose. That’s just what you need, a new purpose, a new life that you created yourself.” His words are mumbled from where he presses his cheek against the top of your head.
A new purpose, a new life. That’s what you wanted. To shed yourself of whoever you may have been before all of this, before you had met Bakugou and Kirishima—before you had been let into their family even with them knowing you were capable of killing them all. Your heart aches but not in agony this time, it aches with joy.
You wanted so much more than what this city had to offer, you wanted to find out what you liked; your favourite foods, your favourite movies, your favourite smells and also the things you hated. You wanted to live.
“I think I’d like that,” you smile, shifting your head against Bakugou’s shoulder to look up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft look on his face, an almost invisible smile on his face. “I want to see the world.”
“Yeah? The world? That’s a lot to see.” His smile grows when you laugh quietly.
“Would you show me the world, Katsuki?”
Bakugou is quiet at your question, his eyes flit down to your lips before they find your eyes again. He looks so beautiful this close, the different shades of red in his eyes are breathtaking. There’s so much captured in them, every emotion he feels and every thought he has flicks behind them before his eyebrows visibly relax, his body holding you closer.
He leans in, lips brushing against your own before he speaks. “I’ll show you it all.”
And when he kisses you, he kisses you softly and gently like you were to be handled with such care. It’s not love but you have a feeling that it might blossom into something like that. One day.
Before you know it, the three days of rest have come and gone. It felt like you had blinked and you were back right where you started before everything had happened in that plastic-wrapped room. But this time you had Shinsou on one side and Kaminari on the other in the back of Bakugou’s car.
Currently, Shinsou was connected to your interface via a cable that slipped free from his wrist and fused itself into the plating on your palm. He had told you it was to relay all information that you’d need to ensure you got in there unnoticed, he loaded you with visuals of maps, layouts of their cameras and their usual patrolling routes.
Kaminari on your other side was fiddling with a hunting knife, the jagged edge was glinting in the passing street lights and every now and again it would buzz with electricity. He told you it was connected to his own chrome, he’s able to absorb electricity and pass it back through objects—something that had earned him plenty of shocks to the system that left him reeling.
Even with the presence of Shinsou in the back of your mind offloading a multitude of data, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Bakugou who was once again in the driver's seat. He had been different in the three days since that night outside of the city. He was more open to the idea of intimacy, often opening his arms for you at night and holding you in the mornings until he had to inevitably get up.
Kirishima had noticed it too, grinning along with the back-and-forth jokes between you and Bakugou. He thankfully didn’t make a scene out of the gentle touches he absolutely caught the two of you exchanging when you assumed no one was around.
Your chest fills with those pesky butterflies, the smile on your face must look mushy because you can feel the ache in your cheeks. You felt genuinely happy, an emotion that was your own and something you were able to hold onto. You wanted to experience everything with Bakugou at your side, and no doubt Kirishima would tag along too.
After that night out in North Oak, you had returned home to find that it was just Kirishima left and Bakugou had offhandedly said that a trip to Japan was on the table. Kirishima had leapt at the opportunity to talk about his hometown, about the different shops and restaurants there. He spoke about his country with so much love, and Bakugou had a nostalgic look on his face—so you asked if he’d take you there one day. He agreed, of course, stating it’ll be the first stop on your way to conquering the world.
Kirishima, of course, had no idea just what that meant.
“Try to keep your head clear,” Shinsou comments from the side, effectively dragging you free from your thoughts. “It’ll go more smoothly if you’re not actively trying to force me out of that brain of yours.” Your eyes drag along the cable connecting the both of you, something that could open you up in the most vulnerable of ways.
During the three days of rest, you spent more time with Shinsou too. He had been a Netrunner for a long time, even coming from Arasaka’s very own prestigious school with the help of Aizawa funding him through the entirety of it. The rest of the crew hadn’t been so fortunate, coming from no education at all or limited from when they lived in Tokyo.
That was another thing you were curious about. People didn’t just come to Night City for fun, it was a city designed to trap you here until your inevitable death. Apparently, Shinsou had always been in NC, born and raised in Japantown but almost everyone else had tales of the way things were being run back in Japan—long story short, it was being overrun by corporations that had no regard for people who were beneath them. It was either leave or die.
“Done. Should be good to go.” Shinsou says, withdrawing the cable connected to your wrist. The information flickers through your mind rapidly, similar to how someone would graze through a filing cabinet. Everything was here, this would be a simple operation if you pulled it off correctly.
You hadn’t realised the car had drawn to a stop until Bakugou turned his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was trying to figure out something to say. But instead, it’s Kaminari who speaks up, slapping a hand against your thigh before he grins.
“Ready to pull off the coolest fucking job?” You don’t miss the way Bakugou’s eyes lock onto the hand for a second too long before he meets your eyes again. All you can do is nod along, still unable to break your eyes away from Bakugou until he forces himself to look away first.
With a nod of his own head, Kaminari deems that worthy enough of a response and grins at you. His hand squeezes your thigh absentmindedly before he climbs out of the car, yelping with Bakugou grunts a command at him the second he steps out of the car.
Soon enough, you’re out of the car too whilst Kirishima ensures you have your weapon loaded and Shinsou talks over the game plan again. “You need to get to the underground levels. On the first floor, it should be primarily empty, the rest of Maelstrom will be beneath that. All you have to do is get into that room, snag a shard and leave. We’re here for backup.”
“I’ll have to go dark when I’m inside.” You see Bakugou shift on his feet a little at that, the uneasiness of you being unable to communicate with them properly if anything was to go wrong. They all nod in agreement regardless, stepping back when you slip the handgun into its holster on your waist before shrugging off the orange jacket that Kirishima had given you all those weeks ago. Bakugou wordlessly takes it from you.
Looking at the building just across the street, it looks unassuming. A simple warehouse, but even you could see the spray tags on the walls of the Maelstrom, this was a significant base of theirs.
Just as you’re about to step forward to begin the job, a hand grabs your elbow and you turn to see Bakugou looking at the building instead of you. “Don’t do anything reckless this time.” His eyes drift down to meet yours, the red flaring to life in his eyes for a second. “Got it, hotshot?”
Your eyebrows raise. “Hotshot?”
“You took a pulse rifle shot—”
“Oh, you’re terrible. Really? Hotshot?” You grin at his words, it was another terrible joke he couldn’t stop himself from making. His lips twitch in a small smirk before it fades, the gravity of the situation settling on him once again. “I’ll be fine, I have you to back me up this time. Right?”
Bakugou stays silent for a moment before he nods. “Right. I’ve got your back.” He looks hesitant when you take a step backwards, his fingers that had been in contact with your elbow twitching at his side before he ultimately decides to pocket them. “Don’t play hero either, you get out of there if you have to.”
“It almost sounds like you care for me Katsuki,” his eyes widened the tiniest amount at the use of his name, no doubt a flurry of memories from just a few nights ago flitting through his mind. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to be taking bullets for anyone today. I have the world to see, remember?”
But before Bakugou could say anything, you fade into nothing right before him. Even when his eyes flash to life, he can’t see you anywhere. His eyebrows draw together in concern, this plan felt rushed—he should be going in with you, you shouldn’t be taking this on alone. What was Aizawa thinking? A hand clapping on his shoulder draws his attention away from where you may have gone.
…Your shoulders drop once Bakugou looks away, you could see the concern on his face, painted as clear as the sky above. You couldn’t remember if you had ever done solo missions like this before—having a partner to help would’ve been nice, but you had no time to dwell on it when you started to walk towards the big warehouse. You note the multiple cameras as you pass by them, the red blinking light flickers for a moment before they’re shut down. Have you always had cyberware that could shut down electronics?
“That was me.” Shinsou’s voice is loud in your head, as if he were speaking directly next to you. “Sorry, should’ve said something.”
“Yeah, no shit.” You murmur back, eyes darting back and forth once you slip through the open warehouse door. There was a big truck in the centre of the room, modified with spikes and reinforced windows. Definitely Maelstrom.
“About twenty feet in front of you, and then to the right there should be a door that will lead to the stairwell. That’s your way in.”
You follow Shinsou’s guidance without hesitation, feet moving silently across the floor whilst your eyes dart back and forth through the dark warehouse. It was odd for it to be so empty, were they all really below ground? Surely there should be a guard— “Stop!” Shinsou all but hisses at you, your entire body freezing at the edge of a rack of crates.
There’s movement, and your eyes dart upwards to see a drone scanning slowly. Drones? Since when did Maelstrom have the money for drones? You don’t say anything as you watch the silent drone pass by, thankfully having not detected you even through your invisibility. This could prove to be a problem if they’re using tech like that, who knows what else they have hidden.
“There are no mentions of drones anywhere. They’re chromeheads, sure, but they always liked doing shit themselves.” Shinsou supplies once you’re moving again. Slipping into the stairwell that Shinsou had directed you to, you notice the difference in temperatures almost immediately. It’s freezing.
“Turning off comms.”
“Wait—” His voice cuts out immediately, something doesn’t feel right down here. It shouldn’t be so cold, it’s like stepping into an industrial freezer. Maelstrom didn’t like the cold, for one simple reason; it fucked with their cyberware.
Freezing temperatures caused it to malfunction, which meant… it’ll fuck yours up too. You need to back out, and report what you think might be down there but—something is stopping you. Aizawa would be pissed if you back out of this with your tail between your legs, he definitely wouldn’t let you come back empty-handed either.
With slow careful steps, you continue to descend into the freezing depths of the basement. Rounding the corner that leads to the final set of steps, you stop in your tracks. The lights are off, save for a slow, long blink of a red light. All the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, something screaming in the back of your mind to back out now. Your hand slips to the handgun on your holster, withdrawing it when you press your back to the cold concrete wall.
You can do this. You can find out what’s in this room, slip by and find the shard. You can do this. You can. Sucking in a harsh breath, you brace your body before whipping around the corner with your gun raised but your blood runs cold, determination falling from your face and morphing into fear. “What—”
...
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t contact her?” Bakugou snarls, glaring at Shinsou who’s hunched over a laptop that was once tracking your whereabouts.
“She said she was turning off comms, but she wasn’t even in the basement yet.” Shinsou frowns, running a hand through his unruly purple hair for a moment. “Fuck, you don’t think she…?”
“No,” Kirishima replies, leaning against the car with his eyes locked on the building in front of them. “She wouldn’t do that, not now.”
“Should we go in?” Kaminari offers, glancing over Shinsou’s shoulder to stare at the blank map.
Shinsou opens his mouth to talk before all heads whip towards the warehouse, their hearts thumping in their chests whilst the sound of the alarms being tripped drowns out any words any of them may have wanted to say.
There are approximately three seconds of calm before the storm hits full force. The Maelstrom weren’t in fact in the building at all, instead hiding in the surrounding smaller buildings dotted around. Yet none of them looks at the group that is sitting staring at the scene unfolding; they’re all descending onto the warehouse.
Onto you.
“It’s a setup,” Bakugou says, words coming out monotone as if he wasn’t quite aware of what he was saying—unaccepting of the ugly truth. “She’s been fucking set up.”
He doesn’t hesitate. His feet move before he fully registers that he’s barreling towards what is most likely certain death, he thinks he can hear Kirishima shouting at him to stop but he can’t. You weren’t going to fucking die now after everything.
His heart hurts from how hard it pounds against his ribcage, the rifle in his hand is light when he raises it to shoot anyone who steps foot into his path. Bakugou barrels through the open warehouse door, following the directions Shinsou had given to you no more than ten minutes ago. It seems a lot of the Maelstrom have made their way below ground, or had been shot on Bakugou’s way in.
His stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of you being trapped beneath the ground with a gang of twenty or more descending on you with the intention of killing you. His hand itches around the rifle, fingers twitching with the urge to open fire the second he can.
Something like true fear starts to pool into Bakugou’s stomach once he deduces that you must’ve descended the only set of stairs. The freezing fog slowly creeping up the steps is enough to make him shiver, the chrome in his body aches from the slow approaching cold. There’s no way you could be down there and still be alive, you were more metal than human than he was.
And yet still, Bakugou pushes through the veil of fear that washes over him and descends the stairs. The fog swirls and wraps around him like tendrils, tugging him further into the icy depths of the dark basement. His thumb brushes against the side of his gun, flicking it off the safety and soon a red laser helps guide him through the dense fog.
He can’t see anything, or anyone, it does nothing to quell the horrid feeling that’s making a home in his chest. Had they already gotten to you? Kidnapped you? Did they know you were a high-priced target? The Maelstrom were no strangers to wanting to get their hands on money, they’d do anything for it.
In the darkness, Bakugou stumbles as the tip of his boot catches on something. He catches himself quickly enough, gun darting downwards and he’s unsurprised to see the remnants of one of the gang members. They already weren’t people anymore, but seeing them like this was something else. You had certainly been the one to cause such damage, but that just leads to the question – where the fuck are you?
A hand clamps onto his shoulder, jolting the large blonde to move and reposition his gun until it was under the chin of whoever dared to sneak up on him. Just through the thickness of the fog, he’s able to see the illuminated red eyes of Kirishima staring down at him. It only soothes his heart a little, he knows Kirishima will have his back through this and for whatever is to come next.
“You fucking big idiot, who just grabs someone in the dark?” Bakugou hisses regardless of the relief that settles into his rigid bones, his heated breath puffs out to add to the ever-growing fog that surrounds them.
Kirishima smiles a little, albeit sheepishly and lets his hand drop from Bakugou’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to shout, who knows what’s in here.” Kirishima manages to whisper back, his eyes finally darting away from Bakugou to scour the darkness.
Bakugou can only grumble about that, Kirishima did have a point. Neither of them knew what was in there, and Bakugou couldn’t rely on his eye enhancements in the frigid cold. So he just moves, and Kirishima moves naturally along with him.
“Do you think they got to her?” The dreaded question comes tumbling from Kirishima’s mouth.
“I fuckin’..- I don’t know.” Comes Bakugou's blunt reply, but he doesn’t mean for it to be so blunt. There’s just no other way around it, the possibility of you being taken or worse is slowly increasing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do with the slow-building guilt in his conscience. He should’ve turned this job down for you, you were just blindly following whatever Aizawa demanded of you.
A click has both of the men freezing, Bakugou’s rifle in his hand poised and ready to fire the second the threat shows itself.
…The gun feels like a ten-tonne weight in your hand, it makes the synthetic fibres in your muscles in your body ache. But nothing is quite as heavy as the shard in your hand, it makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably to the point where your breakfast threatens to make a return.
When you rounded the stairs and found the shard in a lone storage slot within an open cabinet, you had never wanted to run more. It wasn’t the fact it was a shard—but rather that it had your name engraved into the delicate metal.
As soon as you had picked it up the red blinking light had turned off, the freezing air spilling from the now empty cabinet and tumbling onto the floor. You were plunged into darkness, and yet you could still see the shard as clear as day in your hand.
However, it wasn’t just any data shard; it belonged to Militech. They were known for their ruthless advances in A.I. and other technological achievements, and the very thing in your hand with your name etched into it—you knew it could only mean trouble, whoever had dropped it off here wanted you to find it. But why? You didn’t understand, with each passing thought that involved Militech and the shard in your hand, it felt like your brain was ripping itself apart trying to recover memories that were locked behind a thick wall.
You had to get rid of it; destroy it or make sure no one ever got their hands on it. This thing could hold countless pieces of information on the inner workings of Militech and its operations.
“Hurry, or they’ll kill you.”
There’s a quick shuffle of footsteps coming down the steps behind you, and your fingers tighten uncomfortably around the chip. If you died here, you’d never be able to get away and ensure this thing never saw the light of day. The Maelstrom must’ve paid a pretty price for this thing, or perhaps they were keeping it safe until Militech came and picked it up. You couldn’t risk any of them getting their hands on it.
You only had one choice.
It’s not a painful procedure, it feels more like a tingle when the chip slides into the slot next to your own data shard on the back of your neck. But then it locks in, and it feels like you’re injected with nanites; they bite and chip away at you until they take root in your brain. They skitter and scamper across your spine, wrapping themselves around every vertebra. You can feel the way it spreads and wraps itself around your frontal lobe, squeezing until it’s too painful to bear.
You squeeze your eyes shut, and your fingers press fruitlessly into the slot to try and pry it out of your body but it won’t release. It feels like your very soul is being warped and pressed into a mould, ripped and torn until you’re no longer a person anymore.
The scream that tears apart your throat doesn’t sound like your own, it’s mangled and distorted—you can feel yourself fragmenting, your very skin splitting apart to rebuild itself in an attempt to save itself from the A.I. that was rapidly infecting your system. Your mind feels like it’s on fire, burning in the deepest depths of hell until finally, you feel nothing.
Everything clicks into place, and the pain vanishes just as quickly as it had latched on. You move automatically when the first wave of Maelstrom approaches you, your handgun tossed to the side in favour of the gun embedded in your arm. It whirs to life, and you can only watch through the tinted glass of your eyes as you make your way through people as if they were nothing more than wet paper.
It all slowly comes to a lull, bodies slumped to the floor and blood sticks to your skin. It should feel cold but you feel like you’ve been locked out of your own body—everything is numb.
It’s all so empty now, the memories you had formed over the last few months of being part of a family flicker and fade from existence. You couldn’t put a name to the faces in your mind, the voices and laughter becoming nothing but static that blinds you to the noise of approaching footsteps.
Not until it’s too late. You hear a shout, your eyes adjusting to the darkness to make out two outlines of gang members. One has a gun raised to you, the other has their hands raised to you as well yet you don’t spy a weapon. The Maelstrom weren’t known for their chrome for nothing, you suspected they had some interesting weaponry just like your own.
Your eyes flicker, the augmentations in your eyes malfunctioning the longer you resist the command to execute all those who pose a threat to you. A warning flashes across your vision, a clear message that if you continue to resist you’re at risk of imminent death.
You raise your gun in response. There’s a presence looming just behind you, out of sight, yet you can hear a low chuckle – the familiarity of it has your blood freezing, and yet you can’t find the strength to stop yourself from acting on command for whoever was in control of the A.I.
“Put it down!” One of them yells, yet it’s muddied by the static in your ears. It sounds like they’re shouting through an old radio. “Lower your fucking weapon!”
“They’ll kill you. Make sure you get there first.” The voice over your shoulder supplies, and you swear you can feel the puff of warm breath against your neck. There’s a soft brush of curls against your cheek when they lean just enough into your peripheral you can see green.
There are more whispers between the two of them, words you can’t make out but their momentary distraction is enough. Your arm tenses, the warning across your vision vanishes and then there’s a blinding light, it illuminates the darkness of the basement enough for you to finally make out the faces of the two men who had approached you.
You can only blink, the familiar red and blonde hair makes your heart lurch. This all seemed so oddly familiar, a strange sense of deja vu washes over you. You expect to see one of them fall to the ground, but instead, it’s you who watches the world tilt and fall away.
You can’t move. Your limbs feel like they’re too heavy for your bones, and the cold finally starts to seep through your bones the second you make contact with the floor.
“FUCK!” The blonde all but screams, and before you know it he’s in your face. Your body moves like a ragdoll until you’re scooped into his lap. You think you can feel the brush of his fingers against your forehead, frantically swiping away the hair that clings to your sweat-ridden skin. You can feel one of his hands move away from your face to press hard against your chest, you watch his face crumple when he realises something.
He’s speaking, rocking just slightly and the static starts to fade away until you hear him. “‘M sorry. ‘M so fucking sorry. I didn’t–I knew I shouldn’t–.” His sentences aren’t complete, broken up by the wet sobs that shake his body. His hand is wet when it comes back to your face, the smell of synthetic blood clogs your nose.
The unnamed blonde continues to press his fingers against your face, squeezing your cheeks in an attempt to get you to respond but you can feel something now; a tug to just let go. You can only watch when the red-haired one squats down next to you as well, his mouth moves but there’s no sound.
You don’t think you have it in you to speak, to tell them something—anything, your world slowly starts to darken around you. But you hope the man cradling you knows he meant something to you; even if you can’t quite grasp the reason why. You just know that perhaps you might’ve come to love him, if you were given the chance to.
“Another disappointment.” The unknown man shrouded in a cloak of darkness watches from over the shoulders of both men who crowd you, but neither of them seems to notice him, too preoccupied with attempting to stop the rapid warmth that is spilling from your chest. The last thing you see is him shaking his head, a flash of green before there’s nothing.
. . . .
There’s a clatter on the sofa, followed by a choked sob. Bakugou rakes his hands through his hair, pushing back the long strands that fell onto his face. He side-eyes the headgear next to him; a braindance.
It wasn’t just any braindance, it was one he had made specifically for him. They called it ‘Soulswap’, it was a walkthrough of your entire time with him, from the moment he had found you in that warehouse and up to the moment he had shot you. How it was made was something that Bakugou fought with for a while, it was morally wrong. To have someone dissect you like some high school science experiment and implant strands of your data—your memories—into something that he could watch.
A ding on the coffee table draws his attention away from the braindance, and he swipes up his phone to see Kirishima has sent him a message.
[22:34] RED: Stop reliving it. You know that isn’t what she wanted.
Bakugou scoffs, what the fuck did Kirishima know about you? What the fuck did he know about the weight in his chest that replaced his once beating heart? He knew nothing. No one listened to him when he said that it wasn’t you at the end, that you weren’t in control.
It was charted down to Cyberpsychosis on your unofficial death certificate.
The uneasiness continued to eat away at Bakugou, even when he chose to ignore the onslaught of text messages from the others. It’d been this way for the last four years and it had only come to fruition now. It was hard to find someone capable enough of creating a braindance that wasn’t just a cheap way to get off or to kill someone without repercussions.
It was a delicate job, and he had finally found the guy to do it.
Yet now he’s unsure if he should’ve gone through with it. Whilst it was all in cyberspace, he could still feel the emotions you had in your final moments. You had felt something for him, just as he had felt something for you—does feel something for you.
Sinking back into the sofa, the world buzzes around him yet it feels like Bakugou is still stuck in that basement all those years ago. It used to take a more violent toll on his body, his modifications often becoming the victim of neglect until Kirishima forced him to keep taking the blockers to ensure he didn't spiral into psychosis.
Bakugou’s head lulls back, staring up at the spinning fan on the ceiling. It won’t be long until Kirishima comes back and lectures him about bad habits or whatever the fuck he wanted to be on his ass for.
“And with the renewed partnership between Militech and Lazarus, I truly believe we’ll be able to bring a stop to crime here in Night City.”
That voice causes Bakugou to snap his head up, glaring at the television that hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room. It wasn’t often he would make TV appearances but it wasn’t unexpected. He watches the camera pan across an array of Militech drones and other tech that he can’t quite understand before it falls back onto the CEO of Militech.
Izuku Midoriya.
Midoriya has a fake smile plastered on his face, hands buried in his deep expensive pockets as he stares at the interviewer just off to the side. His verdant eyes are dull, devoid of anything lifelike. Bakugou isn’t surprised entirely by that, Izuku was… once a friend, but he betrayed him and the rest of them for a chance at fame.
He moved to Militech and quickly overtook the company, plunging them into tech that wasn’t short of war machines.
“Hah, yes. It is true, we have been working on a new AI that we think will definitely be capable of deterring even those inflicted by Cyberpsychosis.”
Bakugou blinks, his attention drawn back to the screen to see Izuku laughing about whatever had been asked, something about that laugh sounds familiar – not just from when he had known Izuku but from recent memory.
And when it slowly dawns on him, it curdles his blood and makes his stomach tense. That laughter. The voice that lacks any emotion. The world fades into nothing around him the longer he stares at Midoriya talking animatedly about something in the interview, his chest tightens more and more until it feels like his heart may just burst.
It wasn’t a case of regular Cyberpsychosis.
Izuku Midoriya was the one who triggered it. He must’ve been the one who had planted that foreign chip, he wouldn’t just hand something like that over to the Maelstrom.
“We’re proud to announce the next line of fully-developed Artificial Intelligence; Akuma. This is just one of our newly created full cyborg—”
Bakugou finds his body locking into place, muscles growing tight and stomach twisting in knots before his heart plummets down into his stomach. His eyes widened. There. Right next to Izuku is… you. But it’s not the you he knew, it’s a duplicate, one of the new cyborgs created to withstand ‘Akuma’.
He can tell from the way you hold yourself, rigid and cold like you were just some lifeless robot. You don’t respond to the stimuli around you, staring blankly ahead. It feels like his heart is being torn apart once again, shredded in a blender until there’s nothing left but an empty void that sits in his chest.
He knows for a fact that it’s not the real you, the one he held, the one who took a bullet for him—the one he was going to take home to meet his parents. He watched you go up in flames at a pyre funeral. It was Aizawa who had suggested it. “To make sure no one gets her.” Looks like that didn’t fucking matter, did it?
…No. Izuku must’ve had your DNA stored from when you worked at Militech. You were just an experiment, all the chrome you were sporting wasn’t just because you were a Militech worker, but rather because you were one of the prototypes for Militech. From the very start, you were destined to fail—another disappointment.
Bakugou doesn’t even register that he’s already moving, swiping up the bomber jacket you wore. The pulse rifle swung over one shoulder and the door slammed shut behind him. It was time to pay his childhood friend a visit.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo oneshot#bakugo katsuki imagine#cyberpunk!bakugou#bakugo smut#bakugo katsuki smut
616 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader
Warnings: MINOR DNI 18+ (Oral, Fingering, P in V, Praise all around,) Its Porn With a substantial amount of plot?
Author's Note: Second Starkhub Installment for 'The Soldier & Eden Ivy' hope you all enjoy, make sure to drink some water...
STARKHUB - Eden Ivy Fucks Her Boss to keep her job
Eden Ivy
Eden Ivy
Eden Ivy
“Eden Ivy.” Your name was on everyone’s tongue including his own.
Stark looked up from his calendar brow raised and pen stilling over the boxed paper, “Eden Ivy?” He questions. “You know carter’s available for this shoot right?” Bucky nods, “I know, but I asked for Eden Ivy, not Carter.” Tony raises his hand in mock surrender, “easy there soldier, I heard you just making sure I heard right, ANYWAY.” Bucky watches his manager scribble your name in finalizing the soldier's filming week. The pen drops to the paper, Tony leaning back in his chair, “so Eden ivy,” he questions with a grin, “She’s really that good?” Bucky raises a brow in question, “what do you mean?” his boss leans forward, “oh c’mon Barnes it’s rare you film with female costars more than once. Carters your go to, your like Starkhubs ‘it couple’.”
The broad-shouldered brunette grimaces, “we’re not a couple.” he grits shutting the rumor down. “She just happens to be the only one that can take what the soldier gives her, you know how intense it can get, not many like that.”
Tony nods, “you’re right, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but if what I’ve heard of Eden Ivy so far is true – I think the soldier may have met his match.” His boss knocks on the desk after his thought, “well we’re done here pal and listen don’t forget to get with Pepper and Eden to let them know about the upcoming shoot, don’t want any surprises.”
The brunette stands with a nod, “are they here today?” Tony looks down at his schedule, “they’re on set three should be wrapped already.” Bucky sees himself out of Tony’s office with a wave over his shoulder, feet carrying him out of the building containing the offices and into the building where the sets are located.
Sex invades his senses as he passes the sets, pushing the door open for set three, he makes it two steps in before he’s freezing, cock hardening in his joggers.
Quiet whimpers leave your teeth bitten lips, your body gyrating down onto a silicone pink cock, fingers buried between your thighs as you work quick circles over your clit. Bucky isn’t new to solo’s he’s done his fair share of them when he first started at Starkhub, but he’s never seen one look this good. If he was at home hidden behind a laptop, he’s certain he would be watching your scene right now hand wrapped tightly in a fist around his cock.
He’s entranced by the way you bounce on the silicone, lips parted on a moan as filth spews from your lips. Pepper is the first to spot him, not that he takes any notice barely seeing her cross the floor to where he stands hard and aching. “Like what you see Barnes?” she teases, freeing him from Eden’s spell. He blinks owlish like as he looks over at his smirking bosses wife, “you could say that.” he speaks gruffly. “Tony said you would be wrapped up, sorry for just barging in.” he chokes out ears trained on your moans, you were close he could tell. Peppers grinning, “Tony knew our wrap time, though knowing him, he has his reasons.” is all she says as your climax hits, Bucky’s eyes shutting, teeth clenched, hands fisted at his sides as he hears you ride it out.
“So, what can I do for you?” Pepper questions the buzz of the set ringing around the two of them as your set wraps.
“I requested Eden for a scene on Friday, Tony wanted to make sure I ran it by the two of you to make sure she’s available.”
The one thing Bucky loved about Pepper is how organized she was, he watched her pull out her phone, going into her planner for you. She scrolls through your scheduled week; she hums looking through your days.
“She’s all yours,” she says looking up at him, “just make sure you let her know too.” Bucky nods and then she’s leaving him. He makes his way across the set, the crew moving around him as he closes the distance between the two of you. You’re still perched on the sets bed, a sheet lazily thrown over you, and a fucked out sweet smile on your lips. Suddenly he wishes he was the reason for that smile.
Your gaze is locked on his as he closes the distance, “hi,” you breathe, “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me soldier?” You question teasingly gaze drawing down to the tent in his pants. Despite the cheesiness of your comment Bucky chuckles, “you wanna see just how happy you’ve made me Eden?”
You try to conceal your grin, teeth capturing your bottom lip as you look up at him, “careful soldier, unless you want a free show, though between you and I we both know our bosses won’t take to kindly to that, nothings free here.”
Bucky laughs more relaxed this time, “well maybe it won’t have to be a free show, are you available this Friday?”
Your grin morphs into a smirk, “you want to make a video with me soldier, get me naked and spread out till I’m screaming your name?”
He gets bold, leaning forward fingers hooking under your chin as he guides you up onto your knees, the flimsy sheet falling exposing your naked breasts to the room. “Want to do much more than a video with you, I want to wreck you, want you to only think of me when you’re with someone else, want to hear you screaming my name when you should be screaming theirs, and when I do, all I want to hear from you is thank you.”
He’s not above taking you now, especially with how you preen his name, leaning into his touch wanting more. He pulls away, grinning when a whine leaves your lips, “I’ll see you Friday Eden, be a good girl for me now.” He leaves you with a wink, your body slumping into the messy sheets and a curse of his name leaving your lips.
He’d have you cursing more than just his name come Friday, he’d have you begging.
You were dressed in the tightest, tiniest skirt wardrobe could find you, a black silk blouse clinging to your skin, buttons popped open to just below your sternum - and the heels?
He was going to fuck you in those heels. The next time you wore them his name would be on your lips; he’d make sure of it.
There was a pout on your painted features as you met ‘your boss’s’ demeaning gaze, you were swaying “nervously” in your spot, really playing into your role of being the scared secretary on the verge of losing her job.
“I should fire you Eden,” he grunts pretending to look at the blank sheets of papers stuffed in a prop file handed to him before the cameras started running. “You fucked up my numbers, you’re fucking with my money. You know what I do to people that fuck with my money?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “I kick them out on their ass’s Eden.”
You shrink back at his outburst, but he catches the way you rub your thighs together. “Please sir,” you whimper, fuck he wanted you on your knees, his hands fisted in your hair while he choked you on his cock. “I can’t afford to lose this job, my daddy will be so upset with me, please.” He huffs as he kicks away from his desk pushing to his feet as he watches you, strong arms brace him against the fake wood of his desk. “Daddy? You think I give a fuck what Daddy’s going to think? Is Daddy going to get me my money you just lost me?”
Your lip's part to answer but a knock on the flimsy doors set sounds, the two of you look to the door, Bucky beckons them in. Walker newest recruit to Starkhub struts in paper in hand it was Tony’s idea to introduce him like this - you’d be filming his feature film with him next week. Bucky finds he hates it; he’s staring at Eden like he wants to eat her all while he brings the papers to the desk Bucky stands behind. Walker only stops undressing you with his eyes to tell ‘your boss’ he’s got the newest numbers for him.
He could care less about the blonde male, but his blood runs white hot when Walker delivers a slap to your ass, one neither of you were expecting on his way off the set. “See you later Eden.” He chuckles, Bucky doesn’t miss the way you shrink back, Walker’s little slap wasn’t part of the script, so your tongue tied, thrown off. He takes control calling your name bringing you back to him, “Eden, eyes on me, you and I aren’t done talking,” your gaze returns to his, good girl he thinks. “You plan on telling your daddy that you messed up, hope he gives you money to fix your mess?”
You shake your head, “I - No sir my daddy can’t know, he’s going to be so mad at me – please sir – I'll, I’ll do anything I can’t lose this job.” He pushes off the desk, rounding it, closing the distance between the two of you. He stops just a foot short of you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek, thumb running over the apple of it, “you really want to keep this job?” You're nodding eagerly, breath already uneven and he hasn’t even touched you the way he wants too, “and you’d do anything?”
Those doe eyes you’re so good at dishing come to life, “Anything sir – please.”
His gaze turns dark, hungry. “Get on your knees.” You gasp mock offense, “sir I -” his hand slips from your cheek falling to your neck, squeezing, “you said you would do anything – now I’m telling you to get on your knees. You want to keep your job, right? Keep daddy and me happy?”
You’re nodding, “then get on your knees Eden.”
Your descent is slow, his hand around your neck guiding you as you get down on your knees for him. You look up at him as your fingers reach for the belt buckled through his slacks, you pull the belt from the buckle opening the leather. Your fingers move onto the button holding his slacks closed next letting it pop open, a groan bubbles in his chest when your nimble fingers brush against his hardened cock as you pull the zipper down slowly. Your fingers hook over the top of his slack and boxers tugging on them, his cock springs free from its confines, he watches you lick over your lower lip.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs hand sliding up your neck to cradle the side of your head, “now show me just how much you want to keep this job.”
Eyes locked on his you get your fingers around his girth, hand fisting around the base of his cock. He waits with bated breath, dark hungry eyes watching you lean forward letting his hand that cradles you follow your movement. Your tongue peeks out past your lips to lick along the underside of his cock, your tongue running over every vein that has his breath leaving his chest. His head falls back a long low grunt falling from his lips as your tongue swirls around the tip before you take him fully into the wet, warm, heat of your mouth till your stretched out around the base of his cock, till he’s hitting the back of your throat. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingers fisting tugging as he guides your motion “just like that” he moans, “fuck Eden knew you were good at something.”
You moan around his cock, your other hand finding his muscled thigh as you brace yourself, jaw slacking, eyes begging. The fist he has in your hair tightens, his other finding your cheek as he holds you still, complacent. He grinds into your mouth once, twice before he pulls you back till only the tip rests on your tongue, all self-control is lost on him as he fucks his way back into your mouth, pace unrelenting as he makes you take what he gives you.
“That’s it,” he growls, watching your mascara streak with the tears that pull from your eyes, “take this cock Eden, take it like a good fucking girl, let me see how bad you want it.” He tugs you off with a snarl harsh tug to your hair as he holds you at arm's length to get a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Your spit pools around your lips, dripping down your chin, staining the black satin shirt a shade darker. He can feel his cock pulse at the sight, watching as you run a thumb over your lips sucking the digit into your mouth as you lick yourself clean, “Did I do good sir? Yont won’t tell my daddy?”
He takes hold of his own cock, bringing you back into your space as he taps your parted lips with his member, he groans when your tongue slides out, “I don’t know Eden, I don’t feel like you’re very sorry, like you really want this job.”
You’re whining, kitten licking his cock as if that will fix your ‘mistakes’, “please sir,” you plead doe eyes beaming up at him, “I said I would do anything – and I mean anything.”
A growl vibrates in his chest as he halls you up, a cry so pretty leaving your lips as you stumble to your feet falling into his embrace. Hand still fisted in your hair, the other finding purchase on your neck as he brings your lips to his, tongue wasting no time as he delves into your parted lips licking up into your mouth.
“I want you naked, bent over that desk Eden - heels on.”
You’re tense as you wait bent over the wooden desk, breath caught in your throat, ass high in the air. He drinks you in, watching you all spread out and waiting, your poor pretty pussy clenching around nothing waiting to be filled.
He takes slow steps forward, “she’s a hungry thing isn’t she.” He husks from behind you. The first contact made is his hand slapping your pussy, the action jolting you up the desk, gasp tumbling from your lips. “Oh yes she is.” he murmurs fingers dipping into your sodden folds, you moan, head thumping against the desk at his touch, “sir please.” You push back into his hand, gyrating against the desk, he leans over you, thick digits circling your clit sweeping up your slick before plunging into your awaiting heat.
A moan leaves your parted lips, “you’re soaked Eden, slipped in so easily, who got you this wet? Was it Walker?”
His hot words ghost over your neck, you shake your head, biting back the whimpers, “No sir.” His fingers fuck into you, “tell me Eden who has you this wet?”
“You sir – please.” you preen pushing back into him, eager as ever.
“You’re such a good girl Eden,” he murmurs leaning into to nip at the lobe of your ear, “Do you only listen when your cunt is stuffed?”
You swallow back the yes, instead answering, “no sir – I can listen, I can be good, I promise.”
“Of course you’ll be good, you’ll do what I tell you if you want to keep this job.” he murmurs ravishing your skin, licking, nipping, biting any of you that he can reach. You’re so reactive to it all, preening his name as he fucks you with his fingers your ass pressing back into his hand as you try to get some control, get him a little deeper. “That’s it, fuck yourself sweetheart, come on my fingers Eden, get yourself wet for me – get yourself ready.”
The wet slick slide of his fingers into your drenched cunt fill the sets air, skin slapping skin. “Sir please – please!” His teeth capture the lobe of your ear, “Come on Eden, you’ve had no problem taking from me before, come on my fingers, come on.”
A low moan builds in his chest at the tightening of your cunt against his fingers, a broken cry leaving your lips as your orgasm washes over you. “That’s it Eden good fucking girl,” he growls his warmth that covered your back disappearing as he pushes up, his other hand holding your hips down as he fucks his fingers into you with vigor.
A cry of his name leaves your lips, hands scrambling to grab a hold of his wrist, he's unbothered, “uh uh Eden, M’not done give me one more, come on now. You’ve taken from me now it’s my turn.” It doesn’t take him long to pull another from you, your body going taught as you gush around his fingers, wetting his slacks. “Fuck such a good fucking girl.” he growls.
A whine leaves your lips when he pulls his fingers out, making quick work of repushing down his slacks to let his hardened cock spring free again. He covers you with his body again pulling a groan from you as he swipes his dick through your slick getting himself wet. “What’s wrong Eden, you think you’re the only one that can take? Think you could fuck me without getting fucked yourself?”
Your answer is a choked-out moan as he slides into the wet warm heat of your channel, walls constricting him like a vice. “Fuck,” he growls sliding in till he’s buried to the hilt, the hand that fucked you covering your mouth, “let’s get one thing straight here Eden the only one doing the fucking here will be me. You ever fuck me over again, and you’ll find yourself in a far worse position then this one, you understand?” You’re nodding, whines bubbling past the hold he has on your mouth his cock accentuating every word.
He can’t hold back anymore as he grabs the parts of you he can with his other hand holding you in place as he makes you take his cock. He only uncovers your mouth to hear how pretty you cry as he drives into you over and over again. He wrecks you like he promised, your body taking every inch of him, “that’s right take my cock like you took my money, keep me happy and you keep daddy happy,” he growls feeling himself closing in on his high.
He doesn’t want it to end this soon, he wants to have you under him for hours crying for him to stop, that you can’t take anymore maybe another time right now he needed to give clint his money shot. So he pulls out, biting back the groan as he manhandles you to the floor, getting you on your knees as he fists his cock. Your eager for it, tongue rolling out as you look up at him waiting for his cum to paint your tongue, “should have you on your knees more often, it's a good look for you,” he grunts feeling the pleasure build, “much better than that desk you sit behind.”
Your moaning drives him over the edge, his cum shooting from his cock, painting your cheeks, lips, tongue. He’s winded breath heavy as he watches you clean up his cum from your face with your fingers, he didn’t think he could get hard again but watching your lick your digits clean of his cum would be the thing to do it. He drops to a squat hand fisting in your hair as he brings your lips to his, its a wet dirty kiss all teeth and tongue as he tastes himself on you.
He wants to laugh when you speak your last line, “does this mean I can keep my job?” but he doesn't instead he pats your cheek thumb running over your lower lip, tugging it down, “you keep me happy, you can have whatever job you want.”
“Yes Sir.”
Clints calling cut over his shoulder, the loud buzz of a finished set sounding in the air.
The two of you relax then your back pressed against the wooden desk as you catch your breath. “How you doing Eden you alright?” he questions needing to check in.
You smile at him, “more than alright soldier, you always show your costars this good of a time?”
“If they’re not having a good time m’not doing my job sweetheart.” he answers hands going to the buttons of his shirt. You watch in question as he undoes each button, entranced as he pulls it off handing it to you. Your smile is soft as you take the fabric from his hands putting it on to cover up your naked body.
“Careful soldier or I might take more than just your money.”
He laughs, he was betting on it.
#pornstar!bucky#pornstar!au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes smut
965 notes
·
View notes
Text
Super, super excited to announce this character design challenge event!! I’ve been wanting to do something like this for ages that’s kinda spread out to give people time to draw without too much rush or pressure, so this is my perfect excuse to get back into drawing and posting here while inviting people to join me while I have some downtime between semesters :]
I’ll be posting here at the start of each week with an elaboration of that week’s prompts, offering ideas, suggestions, and other stuff like that!
As the flyer suggests, anyone can participate, and feel free to @ me and use the tag #ShepsHermitDesign23 if you post! :D
I’m hoping a lot of people will feel inspired to join in and have fun with this, so please reblog to spread the word! I’ll be reblogging this a bunch throughout the week leading up to Monday the 5th, the start of Week 1 :]
If anyone has any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask!
Since everything is hand-written, I typed up a transcript of the announcement below:
SHEP’S HERMITCRAFT CHARACTER DESIGN EVENT
[4 weeks] – [2 Optional Prompts Per Week] – [Pick a Blorbo] – [Redesign Them!]
[The table in the green box is organized into 4 Weeks and the two prompts for each—The first, a “Fandom-Related Prompt”, and the second, a “Non-Fandom-Related Prompt”]
Week 1 (June 5-11) – A Non-Life-Series Hermit on their Red Life [OR] As a D&D Class
Week 2 (June 12-18) – Create-Mod-ificated [OR] Video Game Swap!
Week 3 (June 19-25) – As an Empires SMP Member (make up a new empire, or use someone else’s) [OR] As a classical work of art (or in the style of a famous painter/artist)
Week 4 (June 26 - July 2) – Outfit / Skin Swap with a MCYTer from a different fandom [OR] Horror-themed or as a Villain!
RULES & SUGGESTIONS
Anyone can participate! Participate as much or as little as you’d like!
The intention is that the prompts offer enough variety and intrigue to encourage people to pick one of the prompts to do for each week – But feel free to do both prompts, or only certain weeks, etc.!
The event was designed with Hermitcraft characters in mind, but feel free to apply prompts to any MCYT Blorbo!
Most importantly, have fun & Happy Drawing! :)
CHALLENGE MODE: Try all of your chosen prompts for the same character!
Post with the tag: #ShepsHermitDesign23
And feel free to @me if you post your designs/drawings! (@Shepscapades)
#hermitcraft#life series#hermitcraft fanart#empires smp#trafficsmp#character design#drawing challenge#how do i tag this awyawrghg#mcyt#art event#art challenge#ShepsHermitDesign23#shepshermitdesign23 faq
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I would like to request a Nikto x Reader :)
Nikto overheard a conversation you were having with the other operators on base about how beautiful the nearby flowers are blooming in spring. He has begun a daily ritual of hiking up the hill to find the prettiest and gathering them for you. Secretly leaving little bouquets in places you would find.
ʻʻLingering scentʼʼ
Pairing: Nikto x Fem!Reader
TW: none, mostly fluff.
-
He never meant to eavesdrop on you.
That’s what he repeated to himself every time, watching the space ahead of him but with his ears focused on the tone of your voice, hearing the smile that you had. He never felt it before, nor did he know that you could feel a smile in someone’s voice.
There were small details, the way you pointed at the flowers outside on the way to the base, his eyes travelling all the way around to see the camp at the side of the road.
And to be honest with himself, he never noticed them, until now.
He couldn’t ever be a gentleman, there was no way that he saw himself give a bouquet of flowers to someone. The thought almost made him feel sick from the bottom of his stomach.
That same night, Nikto walked out of the base, a flashlight in his left hand as his boots left imprints on the cold ground. The snow was long gone, the days were becoming longer and longer, feeling like a fish out of water as the temperatures became warmer.
When he dropped down and pointing the light at them, gloved fingers brushing at the stem as he picked it from the ground, he realized that he never observed a flower in his entire life. The petals looked so bright under the artificial light, the center a bright yellow, reminding him of the time he saw you wear a yellow shirt.
He never expected to see you with that color on you, attracting more than a few pair of eyes, yet you walked straight like you weren’t a complete walking headlight.
He collected others from the ground, without even counting them as he held them in his other hand, walking back while trying to figure out a plan to give them to you. That’s when the thought hit him like a train: he was planning to give you a bouquet of flowers.
—
The following day, he stayed more than usual at shooting wooden targets with his rifle, his fingers tingling as if pure electricity was flowing in his veins, trying to keep himself at bay. He still remembers how he found himself searching for anything that could’ve kept the flowers together, finding only a rubber band inside one of his drawers.
He didn’t know what was driving him to such actions, he just felt like it was the right thing to do after hearing what you said.
At one point, he was forced by his teammates to get out from the training area, almost pushing him all the way. He sat with them as they were eating their lunch, his box still closed—he would eat it only in the privacy of his own room.
Still distracted by the flow of his own thoughts, he didn’t acknowledge your presence until you walked by, surprised to see you alone. He listened as you asked for a plastic cup—a bit weird, bottles were most used, until he watched you pouring water inside it as you gently placed flowers inside. Those flowers.
Until you turned in his direction, finally going back to reality and seeing his teammates waving at you, inviting you to sit with them.
He didn’t realize he was staring at you until your eyes watched him back, yet your smile never faltered for a moment, sitting in front of him and placing the flowers on the table.
“And where did those come from?”
He watched you blush at the question, murmuring that you didn’t know, and telling how you found the little bouquet of flowers tied at the handle of your door that same morning.
He held back a groan as Rodion tried to understand who could have been the gentleman behind that gesture, your face becoming redder by the second as his teammate tried to think of any person.
You let out a nervous laugh, distractedly fixing the flowers inside the cup.
His heart skipped a beat when you shifted your gaze on him, even if it was only for a moment.
—
It happened again, and again, your room perfumed from all those flowers that somehow ended up in spots where you always went. Always held by a rubber band, always tucked in a corner—yet you knew exactly what the corner would be.
You were dying of curiosity since that morning you first found them, soon being aware that someone was doing that on purpose, but not leaving any trace behind.
But you knew better than that.
The way he stared at you—someone even said that he was a creep, but there was more than meets the eye. The more you watched him, the more you started to understand that his eyes gave out more about him, or the way his legs shifted when he was sitting, or how he crossed his arms in his chest or if he left them at his sides.
It was a difficult book to read, too many difficult words to understand and concepts hard to grasp at first glance.
But you wanted to know more, to know him more and the reason behind those flowers.
Slowly sticking your head out of your room and closing the door behind you, you stealthily walked out, going straight to your favorite spot in the little yard of the base. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, almost afraid that someone could hear it, even if it was impossible.
At night everything was easier for you. It happened occasionally in the past that you would meet him, the insomnia having the best of you both, ending up talking—you would always do most of the talk, he would just sit and listen at everything, from the gossips that went around the base to personal matters that heaved on you, feeling almost childish to trust him so blindly.
Apart from seeing him in the field, you knew nothing about him, except all the thing other said about him. All the rumors that went around the base, the way everyone dared to talk behind his back but shutting their mouth the moment his shadow appeared closer to them. They were afraid of him, that was obvious.
But that didn’t stop you at all, reasons why you sat under that tree in the middle of the night, waiting for him to appear.
Little did you know that he was observing you from afar, trying to walk his way around but knowing well why you picked that spot—you already knew. And like in that moment, you already managed to put yourself in his way, always stopping him in his tracks at every inopportune—and opportune moment.
The dirt under his boots made enough noise to attract your attention, watching you turn around, your eyes light up the moment you saw him. No one ever watched him that way.
“You should sleep at this hour.”
Your smile widened after his words. “I can say the same about you.”
He didn’t answer your statement, the flowers in his pocket burning like fire, their perfume making his head spin. He noticed the way you breathed in, surely noticing the sweet scent lingering around him. Not saying a word, you just shifted, making space for him on the bench, patting the cold material with your hand and inviting him to sit.
After a moment, he obliges.
For some time, he just imitates what you do, watching the sky above, clouds and stars blending in one big painting, letting all thoughts slip away from his mind, somehow less clouded than ever.
You let the wind do the talk this time, your smile never faltering for a moment, not even when he finally gets up from the bench, the first lights of dawn filling the sky in bright stripes. He cannot help but feel the shadow of a smile forming behind his mask as your lips murmur a ‘thank you’, voice too low to understand—but you both surely didn’t need the voice to understand each other.
You follow him soon after, this time leaving the scent from the chamomile flowers lingering for a bit longer on that bench, their petals flying away with the wind of that new morning.
#nikto#cod nikto#call of duty#cod#cod mwii#call of duty mw2#request open#cod mw#request#call of duty nikto#mwii nikto#nikto mwii#nikto x reader#cod mw19#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#nikto x fem reader
295 notes
·
View notes
Note
I searched for Feysand x reader all over tumblr and you were one of the top creators so I looked around and fell into the rabbit hole of masterlists… I’ve been on your page for hours now and i’m not tired at all.
And I saw your request were open and i’m so happy bc I wanted to ask if i could request feysand x reader where feyre and reader are pregnant at the same time. Like we all know how protective rhys was in the books, now imagine two mates at the same time. Like his instincts wouldn’t let anyone too close to them bc his mates are in vulnerable situations. Maybe someone like Beron or Tamlin jokes around and Rhys doesn’t handle it well or smth plssss🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️
Double Trouble
Feysand x reader
A/n: omg thank you 😭😭 I get nervous that I write too much and that ppl will get sick of me lol. So thank you for reading my fics 💕
Warnings: Tamlin being a douche
Rhys has been more paranoid since you and Feyre both started showing. The revelation of both you being pregnant excited and frightened him at the same time. Causing his over protective mate instincts to kick in. The two of you had tried to get him to rest knowing he had a High Lords meeting coming. But the stubborn male insisted he was fine.
A few times when you got up to pee in the middle of the night - a new routine thanks to your pregnancy - you found Rhys wide awake. He would watch over you and Feyre like a hawk until he fell asleep sitting up.
Yesterday Rhys had insisted he could skip the meeting and just stay with the two of you. It was a day long battle for a compromise. “Rhysand. We will be fine here with Amren watching over us and Nyx.” Feyre said sternly as Rhys came to tell you he changed his mind about your plans, again.
He shook his head vehemently, “Nope. I need to be here.” You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your mate to go away. “What will it take to get you to go to this meeting?” You sighed out.
Feyre perked up, wiggling her fingers, “Oh, I have an idea! What if we come with you. Helion can have a room for us, Cass, Az, and Mor will be there, it’ll be so easy.”
You could tell Rhys was considering it from the pensive look on his face. And he didn’t immediately shut Feyre down.
He nodded, mumbling out ‘I’ll think about it’ before heading back to his office.
You shoot Feyre a knowing look, “You just want those bonbons Helion gets.” “Yes! I’ve been craving them for months. And I want them fresh, not in a box.”
Snuggling up next to your mate on the couch you place a hand on her bump. Feyre does the same to you, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t blame you,” you giggle out, “I’m happy I get to experience this with you Fey. Even if Rhys is being a mother hen.” She lightly pecked your lips. “Me too y/n/n. I love you”
———
Thankfully Rhys had agreed to you two coming along to the Day Court and you’d spend the night. Winnowing took a lot of energy from you and Feyre, so Rhys was adamant about you two resting as much as possible.
Before leaving you all gave Nyx hugs and kisses. He would stay with Elain and Nesta while you were gone. He hated when you left but enjoyed his time with Aunty Lain.
Winnowing to the Day palace Helion was waiting to greet you. “You’re the first to arrive.” He said cheerfully. The two High Lords shook hands as Helion guided your little group inside. Cassian offered his arm to Feyre while Az offered you his.
“I set up a very comfortable room for you two to relax in. No meeting for you, I’m sure there’s enough stressful things around you these days.” He says, eyeing Rhys. “Thank you Helion.” You say sweetly. “And you got our snack requests?” Feyre asks.
Helion throws his head back, laughing at her blunt question. “Of course I did. You’ll find you are well stocked on any foods your hearts desire.” You and Feyre smile at each other knowing you’re about to have the best snack and relax sesh.
You walked Rhys to the meeting room, like you promised, before leaving him. He takes one of your hands in his, giving you both a loving look. “Do you need anything? What can I do for you before everyone gets here?” “Nothing my love.” Feyre says softly. You bring a hand up to caress his cheek, “We’re just fine baby. You focus, do your thing and help Prythian, yeah?”
He gives you and Feyre a quick kiss before Helion’s personal guard escorts you to your rooms.
Opening the door your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of the sweet treats spread out for you. You and Feyre look at each other licking your lips in excitement. You wasted no time sprawling out on the lounges, digging into whatever was in arms reach.
Hours later Rhys, Cass, Az, and Mor joined you. Rhys was overjoyed to see you two after being separated. “You should’ve seen him when Kal asked where you were. He snarled.” Cassian teases as Rhys nudges his way to sit between you and Feyre. “I did not.”
Mor rushed over to you, lightly placing a hand on each of your bellies. “How are both Mor juniors doing.” You giggle at the blonde, “They have been perfect little angels.”
“No discomfort, extreme fatigue, or -“ “Rhys, we were fine.” Feyre cuts him off. He seems to relax at that. The tension in his shoulders loosening as he bats Mor away so he can feel the babes kick. Rhys lets out a breathy laugh as little feet push against his palms. “Hi angels, did you miss daddy?” Two more kicks in response.
The babes love the sound of Rhys’s voice. Like with Nyx, he talks to them every night. It doesn’t matter if you and Feyre are awake or asleep, he will always make time for the babes.
“Don’t forget,” Azriel speaks up from his spot in an armchair. He’s picking at a bowl of chocolates you hadn’t gotten to yet. “We have dinner in about an hour with everyone.” Rhys wasn’t pleased by the reminder. Something tells you that he was never going to tell you and Feyre about dinner.
Feyre stands, pulling you with her. “We will go get ready then.” She says happily.
You exit the bedroom with a few minutes to spare. Feyre chose a glittering black dress that hung off her shoulders. She decided to leave her crown behind for the night, putting her hair half up with small braids meeting in the middle.
You had decided on a midnight blue dress specked with pearls. The flowing fabric on both your dresses not hiding the fact that you’re pregnant. Rhys eyed the two of with lust sparkling in those iridescent violet irises.
He offers you each an arm to walk down to dinner. Rhys walks at slow pace for the two of you. When Feyre noticed she rolled her eyes and you both pulled him along. When the six of you enter the grand dining room you feel eyes on you. Thankfully not autumn ones. Azriel told you Beron and his court left after the meeting was over. Very typical of Beron to come and complain then leave, making no effort to improve court relations.
Viviane and Thesan shriek in excitement at the sight of you. “Congratulations! How did I not know?” She said excitedly. “When are you due?” Thesan asks immediately after her. The pair continue their onslaught of questions as you answered before the next question came up.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see Tamlin tensing. Clearly unhappy about the topic of conversation. Feyre and Rhys caught on to his unhappiness as well. Feyre tried to change the topic, asking Thesan about how things were going with his lover.
Tamlin and Rhys made uncomfortable eye contact. The males looked like they were about to jump across the table at each other. Rhys pulled your chair closer to him so you’d be away from Tamlin. He was across the table diagonal from you. It’s not like you were that close him but if it made Rhys feel better.
“Do you have something you’d like to say, Tamlin?” Rhys snapped. The High Lord of Spring scoffs, a wicked smirk on his face. “Well I just think it quite odd they’re both pregnant. Why on earth would you want two more.”
Everyone stopped speaking, looking anywhere but at them. Even you and Feyre looked at the table. You could tell she was fuming about Tamlin’s joking tone. “Is that an insult about my son? Or perhaps you’re angry about your situation. If you need to talk about it I’m sure you can find someone who will listen.” Rhys gave him a fake smile and went back to his meal.
Conversation slowly started up again. Tamlin excused himself, only saying goodbye to Helion before stepping out into the hallway to winnow home.
Once back in your rooms for the evening Rhys had you and Feyre cuddled up on either side of him. “Thank you for standing up for our family.” Feyre whispered. “I always will darling. You’re the most important people in the whole world to me.”
You let out a yawn and snuggle close to Rhys. “Let’s get some sleep. This little angel is kicking me for some shut eye.” “This one too.” Feyre yawns out. “Awww, I’m sorry I’m keeping your mommy’s up.” Rhys whispers. He kisses both of your bumps as you drift off.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar reader fic#acotar reader imagine#acotar imagine#feyre acotar#acotar rhysand#rhysand acotar#rhys acotar#feysand x reader#feysand#rhys x feyre x reader#rhysand x reader#rhysand imagine#rhysand#rhys x you#rhys x reader#rhys x feyre#feyre x reader#feyreandrhysand#feyre x you#feyre x rhysand#Feysand x you#poly!feysand x you#poly!feysand x reader#poly!feysand
339 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Overthinking Embodiment Of Anxiety / Leo x Gender Neutral ! Reader .
THERE WERE MANY TIMES THAT LEO WOULD GRIMACE AND SHRIVEL UP INTO HIS OWN EMBODIMENT OF EMBARRASSMENT. But, him asking for [Name's] number in the stupidest way possible has got to be at the very top of his list. That was pretty much the only thing circling through his head, as he was currently screaming into his pillow profusely. Which was luckily muffled out.
He was currently freaking out, because somehow: Leo just happened to not only fail at leaning against the locker to the ‘awesome rizz’ he claims to have, as school today. But, he also couldn’t stop himself from stammering over his words.
In all honesty, he was one second away from puking onto [Name]. However, a quick: “I’m gonna…gonna be sick. I’ll be in the bathroom, if you need me!” managed to only further embarrass Leo, as he wasn’t able to meet up with [Name] for the rest of that day and apologise profusely for what it did.
Right now, he was still screaming urgently into his pillow, until Raph threw a pillow at him and urged him to ‘shut it up, and go get some sleep’. It was almost 3AM, and his brothers couldn’t even use their phones properly in peace to just roam about the Internet, because Leo’s screaming was consistently ruining Donnie’s Attack On Titan binge-fest Marathon, Mikey’s podcast of his favourite comedians and Raph’s blasting music that he raised up to deafen himself from Leo’s stressed out antics.
Thankfully, Leo stopped his screaming session, as soon as he felt his phone vibrate and ping from a notification popping up. He didn’t really think much into it, thinking it to be a Netflix notification. But, him choking on his own spit just proved it wasn’t even that: [Name] had sent him a message.
Almost immediately, Leo was staring intently at his phone: hesitantly clicking the notification and his phone opened up onto the messaging app.
[Name]: wassup Leo, you good after puking and throwing up in the bathroom? 😭
Leo grimaced at the teasing message, rest his head onto his other pillow, an audible sigh left him, staring up at the ceiling. “They definitely laughed after that…” With a reluctant sigh, Leo responded back.
Leo: heya [Name] & i’m all chilled out now, thanks for asking! and, sorry about that 😕 i got nervous and freaked out there
[Name]: dw mate, it’s all good & hey, at least we can chat here and still laugh abt it together later on 👍
Leo blinked mildly, clutching the phone tightly to himself, his legs wiggled about for a mere second, not able to contain his excitement. A dazed grin appeared onto his face, happily and quickly responding to [Name].
Leo: that’s sound great & i was actually wondering about something i wanted to ask you @ school before, but couldn’t today 😶
[Name]: aight👌, shoot the question @ me then man
This was when Leo kept on constantly typing for a really-really long time, to then just delete major parts of his prolonged paragraph he was wounding up in the text box. He gritted his teeth and slanted them, a nerve-wracking feeling swelled up inside of him, before he finally deleted his whole paragraph and then sent:
Leo: it’s nothing, dw
goodnight, [Name]!
[Name]: goodnight dude!!
Leo sighed, turning off his phone and he laid comfortably on his bed. He felt immensely disappointed in himself for chickening out at the last moment. But, he then remembered:
He got [Name’s] number and even managed to chat with them for a good amount of time, without even sending any stupid typos he overthought on himself to make.
A sigh of relief whipped out of his mouth from that, smiling softly in his sleep. Leo was fine with just trying to go on a date hangout with [Name] again, next time.
He’d have better luck asking them out successfully, next time.
#tmnt mm#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt mutant mayhem#tmnt mutant mayhem x reader#teenage mutant ninja turtles: mutant mayhem#leo x reader#2023 leo x reader#gender neutral reader#tmnt mm leo x reader
415 notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay, honest question, who is Yotsuba?
OH HO HO ANON I AM ALL TOO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :3
Yotsuba is a character from the greatest manga ever made, Yotsuba&!(or Yotsuba to! it translates weird, most fans just call it Yotsuba) which is a comedy slice-of-life manga about Yotsuba Koiwai, a five year old girl, and her very strange yet wholesome family and friends!
It's from the same mangaka who gave us Azumanga Daioh, though while that manga is told in a four-panel comic style and doesn't really have much of an overarching plot, Youtsuba is done in a traditional manga style and despite also being very episodic there is a bit of a throughline surrounding Youtsuba getting settled into the neighborhood she just moved to, growing up, and eventually, in the later chapters, getting ready to go to school for the first time. Also, there are storylines that take place over multiple chapters as well! Despite the fact that the manga has been releasing since 2003, the chapters are pretty sporadic and the comic has only really covered about one year of the character's lives, but it never really feels slow or aimless. It feels almost...timeless? I guess. It's really nice.
Anyway, the manga is legit one of the most wholesome, funny, heartwarming things I have ever read. Kiyohiko Azuma is a fucking MASTER of comedy(you may have seen screencaps from a Sailor Moon fan comic he made going around on tumblr in which Jupiter accidentally sends Venus shooting across a pool that made me laugh so hard I cried) and he balances it well with lots of slow moments with GORGEOUS artwork where you can really take in the scenery and all of it is seeped in a wonderful nostalgia for childhood that legit makes me super emotional.
I don't think the manga has ever really taken off in terms of popularity, at least not to the degree that it deserves imo, which is likely in part due to the creator being firm about it never getting an anime adaptation and the sporadic release schedule, but it's far from unknown. There's been an official(I think??) score released and plenty of figurines and merch. It's also birthed a lot of memes, and it def has the same issue as One Piece where if you read it and love it you will turn into a walking billboard and try to drag your friends and family in with you. It's just THAT good!
You may have seen art of or people cosplaying Danbo, a "robot" made of old cardboard boxes that Yotsuba adores (Totally a real robot btw, def doesn't have a middle schooler shoved inside there, that would be silly wdym /s)
And this pose from the back of one of the manga volumes featuring Yotsuba, her father, and their extremely tall friend Jumbo has been redrawn with other characters like 500000 billion times
And you've also probably seen this going around tumblr before (that's Fūka she's my favorite cringe fail daughter I would literally die for her).
Also, I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Yanda, who is a friend of Yotsuba's dad and also Yotsuba's nemesis. He's a loser who constantly gets dunked on by a toddler it's fucking hilarious.
But yeah it really is just like, a manga that feels like a hug, or a warm blanket or something, it's so comforting and funny and fantastic, I find myself re-reading it any time life gets to be too hard just bcs it's that good at distracting me and reminding me that live is worth living.
And also given that it's literally my favorite manga, I saved up a bunch of screencaps to use as reaction images after a read one time, and thus now it's my own little joke that if you send me anon hate I'm just gonna send you back a picture of this cutie
Bcs come on how can you be angry when you're looking at this???
Anyway here's some screencaps of the main supporting cast bcs I love all of them so much <3
YOU WILL READ YOTSUBA I AM NO LONGER ASKING
#Ask#Anonymous#long post#sorry anon you hit the yotsuba button#I am legally obligated to gush about it#yotsuba#yotsuba&!
331 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ᴄ.s] | 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: how you relationship formed, came to be & every-day life
￫ pre-borderlands ver | post-borderlands ver
𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 —
Ironically enough, you work in the hospital cafe which doctors and nurses flood to and their breaks
It’s a pretty easy job seeing as you’re mostly handing doctors their pre-orders, handling coffee and shuffling little pastries into bags
Most are generous tippers too (i.e. the very full glass jar beside the register)
So you mostly enjoy your job, especially seeing as you get to make your own food for free too and most of the hospital staff are down to have a good laugh on their lunches
But one particular doctor is pretty hard for you to read
He has shaggy, blonde hair and a set of growing eye bags beneath his dark irises
He always orders the same thing, so often times you’ll have the meal ready and all you have to do is pour him his coffee but he often goes between wanting to have a small chat and staying completely silent
“[l/n]” Chishiya hums as he walks to the polished, marble counter. His hands rest idly in the deep pockets of his white lab coat as he watches you with a soft gaze.
“Dr. Chishiya” You shoot him a smile “Sorry I’m a bit behind today” Bashfully motioning at the stacked styrofoam containers which are yet to be labelled, you anxiously watch his expression. Some doctors today were a bit grumpy when their food wasn’t ready on time and maybe you lost a couple tips but all in all you can’t really blame them.
“That’s okay” He nods “Where is Nakamoto?” He questions, referencing the other young man who you often work with. Usually, Yuta was behind the counter and slinging out orders like there was no tomorrow. His voice usually replaced the soft radio which was playing now in his absence (mostly singing any thelastrockstars or larcenciel song).
“He called in sick… I didn’t realise how much he actually helped” An airy laugh passes through your lips as you get started on Chishiya’s order. In your defence, the doctor was earlier than usual and you were busy preparing the orders for the doctors that often came before him.
“Is he a troublemaker?” He asks, watching how you precisely create a nutritious bento box for him. It’s impressive that you’re able to remember the order of over 50 staff members without breaking a sweat, though, Chishiya supposes he remembers things that are quite a bit more important than the correct lunch order.
“Oh no! Yuta is funny… He just talks a lot” You smile as you continue putting together his lunch “And he lies a lot too, but it’s funny” You bite your tongue as you foolishly repeat yourself. In all honestly, this is the longest conversation you’ve had with Chishiya outside of ‘are you busy today?’. It’s uncharted territory for yourself to blabber with the cat-like man.
“Oh, you’re on first name basis?” The questions flusters you as you scramble to close the lid of the styrofoam box. You know what he’s hinting at as other nurses and doctors have teased you about it before (mostly the older women) but being stuck behind a counter for many days of your week has caused both you and Yuta to drop the formalities.
“Um - it’s nothing like that” You slide the box across the counter and peel the sanitary gloves from your fingers “Working together so often kind of made it awkward to continue to act so formal, you know?” You laugh is jittery as you swipe a cardboard cup from the stack beside the coffee machine. You don’t bother to glance at Chishiya as you’re sure the sight would make your hands tremble.
You’re not sure why the man has such a hold over you. Maybe it’s your people-pleaser jumping out or the fact that he’s undeniably handsome and is staring a hole straight into your head as he presses on about Yuta and yourself.
A few awkward seconds pass by as you prepare the coffee. Chishiya begins rustling with his wallet as he presumably clinks a few extra coins into the filling jar as your back in turned. Funnily enough, Chishiya prefers a concerning amount of sugar in his coffee which in all honestly makes you feel a bit ill as you prepare it.
“Sorry, again, Dr. Chishiya” You repeat as you carefully slide the sleeve onto the cup so the doctor doesn’t burn his fingers while holding his drink.
“Don’t worry” He replies with a ghost of an appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I promise to have everything prepare tomorrow!”
He scoffs, lightheartedly, as he grasps his items “Just call me Chishiya, okay?”
That whole scenario plays in your head the next few days as he comes to collect his orders
Yuta obviously notices you’ve dropped the “Dr.” when referring to him as almost every doctor here prefers to be called Dr. [Name]
Not to mention, he gossips with the other staff so word spreads around that you and Chishiya have gotten closer
Which to yourself is just odd as enough drama happens on a daily basis in a hospital so why is you dropping his title in Chishiya’s name such big news?
Does everyone know that Chishiya is unsociable??
Not to mention that the older women have gotten 10x worse with their prodding
𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗢𝗨𝗧 —
Chishiya decides that if he ever wants to make a move with you he’s just going to have to suck it up and do it at the cafe
For months he’s tried to catch you when you’re leaving or even hoping that you’re alone for another day - because to his luck Yuta was working alone one day and wouldn’t drop the subject
“You know, Dr. Chishiya” Yuta prods as he slides the coffee across the counter. Chishiya raises a brow as he watches the flamboyant man smile cheshire-ly.
“If you like [y/n], you better tell her soon because she’s going on a date with my friend next week” Yuta very obviously takes his time sliding Chishiya’s meal across the counter, gaging the annoyance that causes Chishiya’s eyebrow to twitch.
“Cause Niragi really, really like her!”
Yeah, Chishiya’s not surprised you have dates lined up
But the exchange was like a slap of reality hitting his face
So, the next morning you’re setting up the cafe when Chishiya comes rushing in (walking the tiniest bit faster than usual)
“You’re early!” You greet as you set aside the broom you were using to brush up the crumbs that weren’t caught yesterday. Very rarely doctors would visit the cafe in the very opening hours, more so visitors and interns doing coffee runs.
“Sorry… Is this a bad time for you?” He asks as he slows his pace. You shake your head as you grasp the broom firmly between your fingers to ease any apparent anxiousness.
“No, did you want a coffee or something? We got new pastries if you want on-“
“No” Chishiya states as he ends your small blabbering “No, I came to ask you something”
Oh. Odd. You can’t help but widen your eyes as you stare curiously at the doctor. You can’t help but notice his usually neat ponytail was sagging and strands of hair were messily framing his face. He had practically jogged (shocking, really) from his car before Yuta could disrupt your peaceful moment, so strong gusts of wind had caused his usually neat hairstyle to look unkempt.
“I’m free on Saturday, please meet me at the hospital entrance after your shift” He asks awkwardly, grasping at a piece of paper that was crumpled in his lab coat pocket. He hastily hands you the paper, very much less suave than he hoped to come across.
“Um… Okay” You we’re dying to ask if it was a date, but you couldn’t allow yourself the embarrassment.
“This is my number” He explains as you grasp the paper “I want to take you on a date”
That was pretty much it
Chishiya took his leave after , mostly to avoid any embarrassment
Saturday wasn’t for another three days and the anticipation as well as the fact that you’ll have to see him later today, the next day and the day after that caused a wire of nerves to bundles in your stomach
Never mind the fact that all you wanted to do was to text your friend Kuina but knowing her she’d blab about it and Yuta was definitely out the question
So you bite your tongue for the next few days until Saturday
The day is nerve wrecking when it comes
You’re dressed a bit nicer, wearing a nice pair of shoes that you hope doesn’t get drenched in coffee and an extra shirt stuffed in your bag to change into before leaving
Thankfully, Yuta served Chishiya so you didn’t have to look at him until now
Through the massive glass wall encasing the cafe, you can see Chishiya standing outside the cafe doors in his normal clothes. He’s wearing a pair of baggy cargos and has a black jacket shrugged on - presumably a black top too
Yuta allows you to get away a bit quicker, probably because he can see the way you’re staring straight at Chishiya through the glass windows. For once you’re happy he keeps his mouth shut as you’re able to swiftly change shirts and walk out without him saying something
“Sorry you had to wait on me” It’s a bit awkward as you slowly close the door behind you, attempting to diffuse any awkwardness by lingering around the closing door. Chishiya takes note of your nerves as he slides his phone into his back pocket.
“it’s okay, you’re actually a little bit early” He nods as he begins to walk away. You quickly fall in pace, watching his face as he continues to speak.
“I hope you don’t mind riding in my car” He motions to the keys he had fished from one of the many deep pockets of his trousers. You dismiss his worry with a shake of your head, watching as a particularly nice car flashes as he clicks his keys.
You knew Chishiya had some money, especially because his mother and father were very high-ranking individuals but it never really visualised until the silver, clean and very expensive car came into view.
DATE —
Maybe Chishiya’s game is a bit rusty
as he second guesses himself the minute he pulls up to the local museum
his friend Kuina told him that the new botanic section was a TOTAL game changer because when she took Ann, they both thought it was so romantic
“I hope you liked museums… We can go somewhere else if you want?” Chishiya’s fingers drum against the steering wheel nervously. However, a wave of relief washes over him as you smile.
“I love the museum!” You reassure him with a cheesy smile. Chishiya’s nods, unbuckling his seatbelt as he practically races out of the car.
the date goes by smoothly
and lucky for Chishiya the new addition was a total surprise for you
“Let’s go to the botanic room” Chishiya announces as he walks away from a particularly detailed painting. You can’t help but gasp, raising your brows as you stare at Chishiya dumbfounded.
“There’s a botanic room?” You ask, surprised that you had no clue of the new addition. The museum was your go-to for a destresser and the thought of walking through a room of beautiful, delicate flowers after a particularly stressful day excited you to no end (life of an adult).
“Yeah, you didn’t know?” Chishiya asks with a slight laugh. You nod as you quickly follow behind him, ignoring how your arm grazes against his. He walks leisurely beside you with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
“I thought you loved the museum though?” He teases, leading you towards a glass door. A long corridor follows as it leads to the specialised building. The sound of running water, chirps of artificial wildlife and a growing humidity spikes your excitement.
Pure astonishment flushes over your features as the doors swing open. Beautiful, vibrant flowers and long branches decorated with the most beautiful shade of green greets you as you walk in. It’s almost as if an amazing tropical holiday was condensed into one room.
“Oh my God..” You speak to yourself, arms grasping out to grab Chishiya’s. He hums, ignoring how he almost trips over himself as you point at an extravagant plant. He watches how your face contorts as you take in the scenery.
Maybe Kuina was right.
𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 —
Speaking of, how you and Chishiya didn’t realise you both had a mutual friend
and it being Kuina no less!!!???
She finds it hilarious
anyway!!
chishiya… surprisingly romantic
flowers, gifts, holidays, dates
you name it, he’s done it
maybe it’s his romance books (which he will NEVER admit to reading) rubbing off on him… but he’s a darn good boyfriend
despite working long shifts he ALWAYS makes time for you
whether it be dropping by on his breaks, ordering delivery for you when he can’t be home for dinner, taking holiday hours just to spend a few days with you
he’ll do it
his field of work is pretty emotional and at times he struggles to flicker between switching off his emotions and turning them back on
and on days like that where he feels pretty robotic, coming home to you and having a cuddle eases his mind just a little
sometimes he feels that he’s not expressive enough for you and sue to that he can either come a bit too closed off or weirdly clingy
like a cat that wants you to pet them but also runs away when you actually try to
he tries to work on it though
lavish gifts and holidays can only do so much, you know?
speaking of gifts
his love language is defo gift giving
he struggles with words and displays of affection at times (mostly due to his parents) and he finds it easier to materially show his love to you
the tiffany bracelet you looked at once? done. A perfume that you tried and said it smelt nice? 100ml and no size smaller. Fancy a specific dish? Table booked at the nearest specialised restaurant.
it can be a little exhausting trying to match his gift giving (pay-grade difference is astonishing)
all he wants in return is a kiss or hug 😭 please give him something
he adores silent reading
just chilling on a sofa with a nice cup of tea, cuddled up with a blanket thrown over his lap and complete silence as you both read (i.e. he reads and you sleep)
favourite dates: cafe, museum, picnic, movie nights
when you go out you’re practically dripping in designer labels
and that cheap car you had? your next birthday it was gone
yuta almost had a heart attack when he saw you coming into work with a dior sweatshirt on
“It’s gonna get stained! Are you actually insane?” He cries as he grips at the baggy material. The soft cream colour complimented your skin so beautifully, you couldn’t bare the thought of not wearing it.
“I don’t know why you even work here anymore, can’t Chishiya just buy you whatever you want?”
your friends are so jealous but so happy for you
esp when they find out that after you last fight with chishiya you came home to a gift card, cartier ring, bouquet of flowers and a particularly expensive bag on the bed
with a sorry note lol
you also discovered how chishiya secretly lives for reality tv
every time you watch something he groans and complains that you’re watching trashy tv again
but trust that he will be keeping notes on who everyone is
he’s so sneaky about wanting to watch it too!
“[y/n], that show you like is coming on” He points towards the tv with the remote, shrugging ever so casually at the tv menu.
yeah, as if he purposely didn’t check the time and saw it was coming on in 5 mins
anyways chishiya is a dork and needs help expressing himself
#aib x reader#alice in borderland#chishiya shuntaro x you#chishiya shuntaro fic#chishiya fluff#chishiya imagine#chishiya fic#chishiya smut#chishiya fanfic#chishiya x reader#chishiya shuntaro
343 notes
·
View notes
Text
I know we have the Masterpost but an Anon has also sent me this really detailed summary of the episodes!!!
Spoilers follow! WILL spoil you on the background and things that we were missing/any gaps in Episode 1 or 2. Big thanks to Anon! Thanks for typing this out!
@azirafuck if you’d like to add this to the masterpost feel free!
“Spoiler that I haven't seen mentioned yet and you might be interested in: The reason Crowley and Aziraphale are involved in Nina and Maggie's love life is because Aziraphale lies to Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael.
Long babbling explanation with lots of background on Maggie/Nina:
Aziraphale is Maggie's landlord because her record shop used to be part of Aziraphale's bookshop and he still owns that part of the building. Maggie is super behind on rent but Aziraphale doesn't care and has to convince her to let him forgive her debt in exchange for an £8 record. They seem to be pretty friendly and she special orders records for him. She is infatuated with Nina but they barely know each other.
Early in the day of ep 1, Maggie goes to Nina's for a coffee, they talk briefly about the record shop (Nina thinks it's dumb because no one buys records anymore). They're interrupted by the naked man in the street.
Gabriel goes to the bookshop and talks with Aziraphale. Aziraphale invites Crowley to the coffee shop to try and tell him (insert the sneak peek).
Crowley doesn't want to be involved and doesn't want Aziraphale to be involved. He tries to convince Aziraphale to just drop Gabriel off somewhere and when Aziraphale says no he gets mad and storms out. (Other sneak peek) He smokes it the street and then shoots out lighting that cuts power and cell service in Nina's shop.
Meanwhile, Maggie has gone back to the shop to gift Nina a Nina Simone record, but Nina just says she doesn't have anything to play it on. Nina also at this point mentions she has an overbearing partner at home who will be upset if she's home late so she's trying to hurry Maggie out. But when the power goes out Nina's security system automatically engages and locks them in. They're stuck in there a few hours, Nina pulls out some wine and Maggie admits that she's never really drank or partied, wasn't ever wild as a teenager, etc. Eventually Crowley comes back, they're able to get his attention, and he fixes the power. Nina's partner has sent her many texts and voicemails angry and anxious that she's late.
That night, Aziraphale and Crowley perform a miracle to hide Gabriel that they think is small and unnoticeable (if we each do half a miracle neither side will notice) but it ends up being massive and heaven notices.
The next day, Gabriel, despite not being able to remember anything, starts singing Everyday. Aziraphale doesn't know the song so he goes to Maggie to ask her about it. She starts gushing to him about how embarrassed she is for trying to give Nina the record and everything she admit the night before and how in love she is but it's stupid because Nina has a partner anyway. Aziraphale kind of brushes it off, saying they will discuss later because he needs to know about the song. She gives him the record and tells him about the pub. (She keeps sending them records for their juke box, they keep sending them back because they all just end up playing Everyday)
Almost immediately after, Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael show up at the bookshop to question him about the miracle. He lies and says the miracle was to make Nina and Maggie fall in love. Michael says they're going to send someone to check on that. Aziraphale tells Crowley and they decide that they need to make Maggie and Nina actually fall in love before heaven finds out about the lie. Crowley says they need to catch them in the rain so they get wet and huddle under an awning and Aziraphale says they need to throw a grand ball like in a Jane Austen novel. (They seem to settle on trying both, but neither happens in ep 1 or 2)”
(MY NOTES: AHHH??? NINA AND MAGGIE??? MAGGIE IN LOVE WITH NINA WITHOUT HER EVEN KNOWING HER?!! NINA ALREDY HAS A PARTNER?!! A BALL OMG WE ARE GOING TO SEE A GRAND BALL IN THAT EPISODE PLANNED FOR N AND M, BUT CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE WILL JUST LOOK AT EACH OTHER I STG
#Good omens spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens spoilers#good omens spoiler#now that I know every main detail I can die in peace#Thank you!#Go2 spoilers
411 notes
·
View notes
Text
DATING ADVICE 4 DUMMIES.
asking your crush for dating advice, only to use it on them.
includes: ace trappola, jamil viper, and floyd leech. ( x gn!reader )
next parts: currently unavailable.
contains: pure fluff headcanons and drabbles. more old formats because this is an old prompt, may come back to this format tho.
ACE TRAPPOLA
he’s far from experienced when it comes to this so he’ll also suggest going to trey or cater, even vil! but his heart couldn’t take helping you win another’s.
if you insist, he doesn’t want you to get embarrassed when you attempt to ask the person out so he gives you very basic stuff instead of bad advice.
though he wants to give you bad advice, as mean as it sounds.
he gets a lot quieter and fidgety, finding every excuse to leave in the least obvious way possible (spoiler: he failed.)
“hey, can i ask you a question?” you asked, feet falling into step with his as you made your way to your next class.
“yeah yeah, shoot!” ace slung an arm around your shoulder as you walked, so you’d not get swept away from the oncoming crowd of students.
“ah, well.. you see, there’s this boy—”
“‘s he giving you trouble?” ace raised a brow curiously, subconsciously tightening his grip around you.
“no no, nothing like that.” you hid your smile, letting out a sigh. “i need your advice… asking him out. like on a date.”
ace’s arm became dead weight around you, immediately pulling away from you.
he hesitated, filling the silence by clearing his throat, covering his frown with his now free hand. "oh. i think i understand."
an innocent joy laced into your features; if this weren't the context, there wouldn't be a bittersweetness in his heart at the sight of it.
"so you can help me?" you asked.
"no." he crossed his arms, watching your enthusiasm disappear. "why on earth would you come to me for that? trey and cater are ten times better at this kind of stuff."
you sighed, "it doesn't matter, you must have something!"
“yeah, i guess. ask them to meet you at sam’s or something. then take them where you please, when they say yes.”
“you think they’ll say yes?” your grin returned at the thought of it.
“mhm, imma head off.” ace nodded as to say goodbye, wanting to put a distance between you both as soon as possible.
“wait wait—” you grabbed his wrist, panickedly, “i won’t get the chance to request an audience at sam’s if you run off..”
“you want moral support?”
you stared at him, dumbfounded, “no, think more… outside the box, as they say.”
a mess when he puts the dots together. during last block before dismissal, what you were implying clicked. the thought of it made focusing near impossible.
best believe he was the first one out of class and was early to meet you at sam’s.
still, any person that approached the shop gave him a sense of nervousness that he may have misread the situation.
“oh my.. i invited you here and you got here before me. were you waiting long?” you placed your bag on the table ace was seated out, desperately searching for the courage you had this morning.
“just ask me.” had deuce not slipped up about ace’s reciprocated feelings, you would’ve misinterpreted his glare for anger.
sheepishly you chuckled, “wh— uh, well… if you know what im gonna ask, why don’t you just answer?”
not that he’d admit, he wanted to hear it from you but this’ll do for now. confirming his suspicions, his cold gaze melted to a warmer one. one you preferred more than the former.
JAMIL VIPER
much like ace, he thinks worst case scenario. i mean, what are you supposed to think when your best friend asks for ‘boy advice.’ but once you clarify, he still couldn’t be more confused.
while he wanted to recommend focusing on school, he wasn’t completely sure if he wanted it for your success or his selfish hope.
withholding his thoughts, he recalled what he remembered the romance movies his sister would watch at home, as if they were realistic.
it wasn’t his intention to give you the worst advice possible, he just didn’t know what else to tell you.
maybe asking jamil for dating advice while he was on an unstable ladder, helping you polish one of the many dusty lightbulbs in ramshackle wasn’t the smartest idea.
he almost fell and hurt himself because of the mini heart attack you caused him.
“ow.” he sighed, grabbing his ankle.
in a rush you went to grab him an ice pack, apologizing profusely, “where does it hurt?”
jamil studied your expression as you put pressure on his ankle with the ice pack, still going on with apologizes.
it was times like this that made him think that your feelings were for him, but it could be a misunderstanding on his part.
“who is he?”
you looked up at him, confused.
“it will affect my answer.” he sighed.
“oh.. i, uh. you can’t know.” you pulled back, awkwardly.
the silence held an unfamiliar undertone that you couldn’t quite place.
jamil struggled to his feet, looking anywhere but you, “i’ll head off now, i’ll take the necessary herbs to prevent swelling. thank you for your time.”
the rest happens over text, late into the night. yes, he was still thinking about it then.
when you used the advice on him, he thought you meant to text someone else (something kalim does often.)
he’s very relieved, in the end. don’t let him forget how nervous he was when you originally asked, though.
the brightness of your lock screen lit up your dark room with a ‘ping!’ you didn’t know how to react to the message you reviewed this late into the night.
jamil: just ask him.
after a few deleted messages, you managed to ask him why he was still up before placing your phone back down.
jamil: can’t sleep.
____: wanna call??
jamil: i cant
[ you reacted with a ‘?’ ]
____: is smth wrong why are u being so dry wtf ??
____: don’t leave me on read.
____: i need to call u to tell u smth
____: oh come on
____: fine i like u
[ you blocked this number ]
not even ten minutes later, you could hear the clicking of pebbles against your window.
you peeked out and were greeted by the vice house warden. quickly your grabbed a paper, scribbling something on it and taping it on there.
were you petty for taping ‘Read at 11:28PM’ on your window? yes. would you get scolded for it tomorrow? yes. but it’s worth it.
FLOYD LEECH
funny enough, he was just asking jade for advice on making you take a hint. you don’t understand how badly jade wanted to snitch, but your conversation was already so awkward, it hurt enough.
definitely tried to put on the ‘heartthrob’ act, only making it cheesier than necessary. he didn’t really give you any advice, more of like reasons you should date him instead.
he hadn’t a doubt it was him you wanted to ask out, but he wanted to seal the deal (if that makes sense.)
“hey, shrimpy!” floyd waved enthusiastically at the sight of you.
a smirk made its way on jade face as he greeted you, “y/n. can i get you anything?”
“no, i’m alright. thank you, jade.” you turned towards the other, “i wanted you— i need to speak with you.”
ignoring the ‘he’s already yours’ from jade, floyd whisked you off to talk in a more private setting.
“what’s up?” he asked, using your shoulder as an armrest.
you looked up at him nervously, “i was wondering, say.. well, actually let me ask; have you ever had a crush before?”
“yeah, you.” he replied nonchalantly.
your face became warm at the thought of the different implications the statement held, choosing the safest one. “me? well, yes i have as well. or i do, present tense.”
“what are you talking about, shrimpy? i didn’t ask anything.” he returned.
“nevermind. i just wanted to ask will you—”
“yes.” he teased once more.
“no.” you nervous gaze turned into one of irritation. “will you give me advice for asking someone on a date, romantically.”
for the first time, the eel was genuinely surprised. “it’s not me?”
while you weren’t a liar, you couldn’t admit to it yet. you’re plan did backfire, but you’d be sure to have the last laugh.
when you went to thank jade for his words of wisdom, you didn’t notice his twin behind you. the amount of teasing you received made you regret going through with it.
bragged to azul and jade nonstop about it later, honestly, as he should.
“what is that i hear, shrimpy?” your eyes widen at the familiar voice.
jade let out a chuckle, prompting you to toss your napkin at him.
“hey, floyd! long time no see.” you waved awkwardly.
floyd slid into the booth seat across from you, “did you seriously ask my brother for advice on asking me out?”
“like you didn’t do the same.” jade glared, “kicking me won’t shut me up.”
“anyways, have i told you how adorable you are, shrimpy?”
#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland x reader#twst imagines#twst headcanons#twst fluff#ace trappola#ace x reader#jamil viper#jamil x reader#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Kind of a dumb request but how about team DEFY + any girls you want with an s/o who somehow managed to build a mech straight out of Armored Core? Insanely maneuverable, loads of guns, can fly, etc and s/o built it in a garage with a box of scraps lol
(GFL/Genshin Impact) Task Force DEFY, Amber, Jean, Fischl, and Yoimiya's S/O building an Armored Core Mech
(Video Source: Pongsifu on YT)
Luckily for you, I have been binging Armored Core 6 for the past month, and will hop on ANY request to talk/write about anything Mecha related.
12 stared at the giant 10 meter mechanical behemoth that had suddenly made its home inside Griffin's Hangar.
(AK-12) "...We didn't always have that, right?"
The machine's chest slowly opened and revealed a cockpit containing S/O, waving hello from the seat.
Apparently, they had constructed the mech out of spare parts lying around.
(AK-12) "Impressive...But, why exactly did Griffin have that many parts lying around? And how did you find guns that big?"
On the battlefield, she watches the mech fly around at almost breakneck speed, watching them zip around and eradicate one base after the other.
Kicking tanks and shooting helicopters out of the sky, it was far more effective to watch them fight instead of having to do anything.
(AK-12) "Hm. We'll be out of a job at this rate."
94 knew this was going to happen.
T-Dolls would only last so long on the battlefield before they were replaced by the next best thing.
However, she sure as hell wasn't expecting S/O of all people to surpass her, with a mech constructed out of junk parts no less.
It was honestly awe-inspiring what humans could engineer for the sole purpose of destruction.
And it was also physically impossible. Something that size should not be quad-wielding miniguns and moving that fast.
(AN-94) "...How has your machine not collapsed from the Earth's gravity?"
94 is more confused than anything.
15 was impressed more than anything.
She knew S/O was an engineer, but to construct a mech out of the parts they had was nothing short of a miracle and logic-defying technical prowess.
(AK-15) "How does your machine constantly reload the missiles while on the field? It is the only weapon you seem to have, and no one constructed missiles that large, even during World War 3."
She can't help but wonder why DEFY was even needed if Griffin had engineers like S/O around.
Well, at least S/O was on their side.
(RPK-16) "I wonder if humanity will wipe itself out faster with these new machines."
16 is fascinated by the human desire to make machines to wipe out life faster.
Granted, Griffin usually just fought Sangvis which consisted nothing of machines, but it would only be a matter of time until everyone else had their own version of S/O's mech.
And probably not one constructed out of junk either.
(RPK-16) "I must ask, S/O. How can you be in the cockpit of that thing and not reduce yourself to jelly? Surely the G-Force alone would kill you?"
Well, it's not the first thing that humans have done that confused her.
(Angelia) "Hmph. Why did they even bother calling us if they had you here? And could you have done that this entire time?"
Angelia is impressed and annoyed.
If S/O could create a hulking machine of death before, why did they only decide to do it now?
She both dreads and admired S/O's tenacity. To make such an effective machine out of junk took a hell of a lot of elbow grease.
Angelia doesn't question it, seeing that it's working alright so far, but she definitely wants to look into upgrading it.
(Angelia) "S/O, with me. We're painting DEFY's logo on it."
(Amber) "THAT IS SO COOL!"
Amber could create Baron Bunnies with a lot of yarn, but S/O could make a machine that dwarfed Ruin Guards with some random pieces of metal!
(Amber) "You have got to teach me how to do that! And lemme ride it too!"
Amber demands to fly with S/O, even though she can't go nearly as fast as they can.
She watches as S/O wipes out entire nests of monsters before leaping away with its mantis-like legs to the next location.
Honestly, it made her feel jealous.
(Amber) "Heeey, can I ask one of those for my birthday! I bet it'll make flying around Mondstadt a breeze!"
Though as the outrider, she kindly asks S/O not to park the giant machine weighing presumably hundreds of tons in the city.
For obvious reasons.
The color on Jean's skin fades when she heard Klee helped S/O build a brand new toy.
One that put her bombs to shame.
And seeing it park itself next to the cathedral, waving hello to her as she was standing at the entrance-
She was about ready to faint.
(Jean) "S/O! Get down from there right this instant!"
Jean gives S/O and Klee an earful for making such an absolute monstrosity that could potentially damage the land and city!
But seeing it in action and fast it disposed of a Hilichurl camp, it filled her with pride and dread.
Pride for her S/O's creative ingenuity, but absolute fear for what S/O and Klee could make next.
Especially considering how fast S/O's machine moved, and the weapons it had.
Where did Klee find the gunpowder for quad-cannons mounted on it?!
(Jean) "I pray that it won't blow up the city on accident..."
(Fischl) "...WHAT?!"
Fischl completely breaks character upon seeing the giant machine staring at her.
(Fischl) "How did...Why...?! Get down from there and tell me how this mechanical monstrosity came to be!"
(Oz) "You just want to ride the machine yourself, Mein-"
(Fischl) "SILENCE!"
...But yes, she constantly nags S/O to let their Prinzessin give the machine a try.
She finds it so friggin' cool, and desperately wants one of her own, in purple!
She watches with some kind of morbid satisfaction watching S/O's machine wipe out their enemies in electrical explosions.
(Fischl) "I hereby dub your steel horse…Raven, of the 621th star!"
(Oz) "…Why 621?"
Oh, that's where all of Yoimiya's spare fireworks have been going into.
(Yoimiya) "HOLY CRAP! What on earth did you make, S/O?!"
The machine seemed like it leapt from another world!
Especially with how fast it moved, honestly she was amazed S/O wasn't vomiting their guts out as soon as they exited.
While it seemed like it would do massive damage, instead they used it for something even better.
As the machine soared above the skies of Inazuma, the cannons on the arms and shoulders fired toward the moon, the starry night exploding into hundreds of beautiful colors!
They had transformed their machine into a firework powerhouse!
And with how fast it moved, it was able to provide a show from one island to another!
(Yoimiya) "Next festival, you're letting me ride with you! I want to see the work we've done up close!"
#girls' frontline x reader#genshin impact x reader#ak 12 x reader#an 94 x reader#ak 15 x reader#rpk 16 x reader#angelia x reader#amber genshin impact x reader#jean gunnhildr x reader#fischl x reader#yoimiya x reader#ak 12 gfl#an 94 gfl#ak 15 gfl#rpk 16 gfl#angelia gfl#amber genshin impact#jean gunnhildr#fischl von luftschloss narfidort#yoimiya genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcanons#girls' frontline imagines#girls' frontline headcanons
235 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
insilencewaits
My Soul In Silence Waits
swayvision-blog
SwayVision
kitkatcadillac
appreciator of bones
