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someonexsomeone · 8 months

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Falling Behind

Title: Falling Behind

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x np!Reader

Summary: Taeyong just wanted a little time alone, was that too much to ask?

Authors Note: Day 8!! We're getting so close to the end now! I finally got to see Barbie yesterday, after a series of 'only this type of thing could happen to a ff author' level hijinks, and wow. Did i love it? yes. Do i have extremely conflicted emotions on it? double yes. Did i make me sob? absolutely yes. So, please take his awful meet cute as I scream into my pillow

If there was one thing about Superman that Taeyong understood, it was the appreciation of a simple disguise. Yes, only popping on a pair of glasses and becoming an entirely new person was a little farfetched, even he could admit that, but taking it just a little step further and adding a mask or hat made him completely disappear into the crowd. He was grateful, eternally so, that he was able to pursue his dream of music, exploring parts of himself he never thought he could, yet…there was a part of him, a really small part of him, that desperately wishes for the peace that came with his life before his music career. He was handsome, his mom made sure he knew that, but he didn’t think he would stop cars on the street or get free food with a flash of a smile like some people he knew. He could exist in the world and not have to think for a second that he would cause a mob just by walking by a group of people. Hence, his other great appreciation in life; his mask.

After a minor incident here and there with some unruly fans, Taeyong knew the drill by now if he wanted some alone time. Hair had to be tucked away, as the colorful strands would stand out too much, and glasses had to be on if he was going to take his mask off to eat or drink briefly. He could stay at a cafe for a little bit, but not too long, lest people started to notice him. Walks in the park were strictly forbidden unless he had a guard with him, and public transportation was an extreme no-no. Always notify staff where he was going, never stay out too late if he had a schedule the next day, and if he came back with any scapes or bruises in places that were too suspicious, he could kiss his privileges goodbye for the amount of time deemed appropriate by the injury. And absolutely no talking to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary,

Stifling? A little bit. He was just happy to be let free every once in a while, unlike some of his other members.

Today had him in the unmarked black bucket hat, brim just big enough to cover the tops of his eyebrows that had been dyed blue from his most recent stage, his favorite spring tank top, baggy cargo pants, and his favorite chunky tennis shoes. With a worn-out satchel thrown over his shoulder, he thought the outfit would fit the fresh spring air that pushed through the city. And, with his favorite cafe being in a relatively remodeled part of town, his outfit didn’t stand out much as soon as he joined in the groups of young adults all enjoying a weekend away from school or their jobs. This cafe in particular had a rotating staff of seasonal workers as well as a bustling crowd of young entrepreneurs, either meeting at the cafe for meetings or to take advantage of the free high-speed internet. Taeyong found he could often stay there for longer than most, and it made him absolutely giddy. His steps had a little more spring in them as he jogged up the stairs.

The modeling, the training, the shoots, the recording sessions. They never seemed to stop, which meant he couldn’t either. So, on a rare day he was able to have alone, a random Tuesday that was supposed to be filled with the newest stage fittings but seemingly got canceled out of nowhere with no other thing to fill it, he jumped at the chance to get out of the dorms. Yes, he loved his members, he loved spending time with their stupid asses and watching them get stupider by the minute, but there was only so much of them he could handle. Love him to death, but if Johnny asked him to go out one more time, his form of relaxation, Taeyong was going to jump him. He nearly kissed his manager when he agreed to let Taeyong venture out alone, his mind already on his favorite place.

As usual, the cafe was near rowdy with people. The person who took his order didn’t spare him a second glance as they took his order, and neither did any of the handful of people he passed on the way to a table in the corner. It was piled with dirty dishes, but he didn’t mind pushing them towards the edge in order to actually have a place to sit away from the door. Plus, as soon as the waitress brought his drink and pastry over, the table was quickly cleared, leaving space for his worn notebook and laptop. His headphones, already pushed over his ears, were ready to repeat the same melody that was in desperate need of lyrics. Though, he only got as far as plugging them in, before a notification had him opening his email. There, in bold letters at the top, was a digital invitation.

You, Lee Taeyong, are proudly invited to the wedding of… was all the message was able to say in the small preview box. In an instant, all the happiness and motivation of the day drained from his shoulders.

He should have expected it really. He was, after all, there when the proposal happened. A lovely high school reunion of sorts, packed with people he knew and people he didn't, all wanting to see what their classmates had been up to in the years between their graduation and the present. Taeyong originally wasn’t going to go, but he was a sucker for the puppy dog eyes his friends gave him when they asked. It was a little awkward at first, people being too afraid to approach him first, but the night mellowed easily with the copious amounts of alcohol being served. The proposal was done by a couple he knew met in high school, though he wasn’t particularly close to either of them.

“A big wedding,” he mused to himself, the only logical explanation he had for why he of all people was being invited. With a huff, he pushed the laptop closed, not bothering to view the message in its entirety right now, before slumping in his hair, his eyes fixed on the view out the window. Being on the second floor on a relatively busy street, there was more than enough to keep him entertained as he gathered his thought.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for the couple, he reasoned with himself. It was, well, that the couple wasn’t him. This wasn’t the first time romance had his thoughts racing to the point of unproductivity, he had to think about it often enough with what SM wanted him to be producing. This was, of course, added on top of the fact that he was a romantic at heart, and pretty much everything around him reminded him of romance in some way or another. A lone tea cup on a table? A tragic love story of a recently widowed elderly woman. A jacket left on the bench at the park? Of course, it had to be left behind by a couple who were too excited to splash together in the nearby river to realize they forgot it. Two people sitting remotely close to one another in the library? A private meet-up between the children of rival companies. Love stories were endless to create. It was both a blessing, as it allowed more than enough material to write pages worth of music, and a curse, since it was literally all he could think about all the time

Before, this was a fun thing for him to dream up. Life as an average citizen meant that romance was filled with endless possibilities of meet-cutes, raunchy escapades, and scandalous affairs. Now? There was too much to risk to allow himself to fall for any pretty person that crossed his path, no matter how much he yearned for the simplicity and comfort of love. Heck, he hadn’t ever really been in a relationship, a true one, where you were able to spend all night basking in the presence of the person you loved and talk about anything your heart desired without it ever feeling like there was an end. Only through his music was he able to speak freely on his melancholy thoughts, as any hint of romance between him and someone else had the power of the company raining down on his head. Even his bandmates, who he wanted to trust with his entire being, were too risky to tell.

So, more often than not, his music was his only outlet, and his thought was his only real safe space to think. He was sure, absolutely positive, that being able to talk things out would clear a lot of his doubts. For now, he could only wish for a moment he could be so vulnerable.

Things were in a constant loop of doubt. Ever since he loved into the city, moved away from his home, and had to fend for himself, it feels like he’s been stuck in an endless loop of self-doubt and critique. It seems like life for others has been moving in a natural progression, the number of couples in his life growing exponentially. Couples, he could handle…to an extent. Some lasted, some didn’t, but there was some part of himself, however bad, that could talk his way out of feeling sorry for himself when he saw them. Love was obvious in his eyes, and those same eyes saw the number of couples that would date just to have someone. Arm candy, social status, a way to starve off loneliness. He started to get good at seeing the subtle differences, especially when he was finally able to go out on his own and people-watch to his heart's content. Marriage, on the other hand, was something too ingrained in his brain as synonymous with love that now, as those very couples he tried to deny were tying the knot, made him feel so very little. It felt, for lack of a better phrase, that he was beginning to fall behind in whatever stupid race life was. It made him feel…hollow.

He sighed, willing himself to pick up his nearest pen and put it against the paper in his notebook, just to do something to get those thoughts to stop. Sometimes, with a little luck, his melancholy thoughts could translate themselves into lyrics that rid them from his head. Lines and dots, lines and dots, but no real words. After nothing appeared on the page, he signed heavily, tossing the pen against the pages one more to throw his head back to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Are you alright?” His head whipped up, hand unconsciously lifting to make sure his mask was still in place, as he made eye contact with the person standing beside the other chair at his table. His face flushed when he met your eyes, his mouth drying at the way they sparkled with genuine concern for him. You were wearing an apron with the cafe’s logo, and a pot of steaming coffee in your hand, silently gesturing to his near-empty cup. He nodded once, a response to your vocal question, but you didn’t move from your spot beyond filling his cup. He thanked his mask for being in place as he winced, his perfectly sugary mocha getting filled with pure black coffee. When he didn’t respond, you seemed to panic. “I don’t mean to intrude, but you seemed happy when you arrived, and you, uh, you’ve been staring out the window for a while now.” Taeyong’s eyes widened. “Oh! I don’t mean that I’ve been staring at you! I just noticed- I mean, you’re awfully handsome-- no wait I mean…”

Taeyong couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped him at your flustered face. You only reddened further at his laugh.

“No, I’m sorry this was dumb. You’re obviously working. I’ll just…yeah,” with a soft sigh, you headed back behind the counter without another word. Taeyong watched your slumped shoulder, a smile stretched on his face as you disappeared behind the swinging door. It grew even more as he watched you smack yourself on the head, gesturing wildly as your mouth moved with obvious embarrassed passion. He wondered, full of glee, if you knew he could obviously see you through the window on the door.

As much as he hated to admit it, the disturbance was exactly what he needed to forgo his sadness. His hands made quick work of a new song, a hopeful melody all about seeing someone beautiful in public only to embarrass yourself when you try to approach them, keywords and snippets of lyrics filling the page in a way only legible to him. He didn’t stop, didn’t allow himself to, until his hand started cramping so bad he had to switch over to his laptop for some reprieve. Too focused, he kept making the mistake of sipping on his ruined coffee, gagging every time his tongue met bitter coffee. His empty plate was quickly filled with sugar packets, but that did little to change the flavor. He was midway through another horrible sip when you approached again.

Bashful, looking down at your feet, you held out a new cup and saucer, the shape

distinctly different from the one he was holding. He slowly lowered his cup, pushing his mask over his face, though he doubt you would have noticed. If you weren’t looking down, the blush-covered cheeks were more than enough proof that you would’ve found a different way to avoid eye contact.

“I-I’m sorry about your coffee…” you said softly, holding out the cup again. Taeyong took it, if only to stop the clinking of cup against plate as your hand quivered, his mouth open to respond, when you continued, “I’m still-I’m still learning what drinks are which and I thought your cup was the one for plain coffee but I-...I should have asked before filling it up and ruining your drink. Please forgive me!” You bowed deeply as you finished. He was the one blushing now, standing quickly, one hand still holding the new coffee while the other hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure if he should touch you to tell you that bowing wasn’t necessary at all or break one of the rules and speak.

Before he could decide, you rose just as quickly as you bowed, knocking your shoulder against the hovering cup. As quick as his dance reflexes allowed, Taeyong righted his hand, saving the cup from smashing against the floor, but not stopping the pipping hot coffee from spilling over his thumb and onto the open pages of his notebook below. You cried out as Taeyong did, placing the cup down as quickly as he could so he could stick his burning thumb into his mouth.

“Oh, no! I’m sorry!” Your apron, barely organized before, exploded in haste on napkins, both them and the other random things you had in the big pocket falling to the floor. A small notepad, more than a couple of pens, straws, and miscellaneous wrappers scattered at his feet as you hastily shoved the thin paper napkins onto his notebook with one hand, trying to salvage as much of the ink and paper as you could, while the other pulled his hand away from his mouth to hastily blow on it. Your eyes were welling with tears now, glittering at the brim of your eyelids, as you tried to do everything yourself. Behind you, he could see your commotion caused more than a few eyes to watch the show, some snickering while others winced sympathetically. Behind the counter, he could see your coworkers trying to keep the line moving while keeping an eye on you. Whether it was to determine if they were needed or because they were worried you were going to do something else horribly embarrassing, he couldn’t tell. When no one approached, and you were getting near frantic with your movements, Taeyong gently reached out a hand, laying it on top of yours where it held his wrist in a vice grip. Slowly, your lips stopped blowing and your hand stopped wiping, tears spilling over. Finally, you met his eyes.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice low. “Thank you for your help.”

You simply searched his eyes for a moment, trying to see how truthful he was in his reassurance, before you gently let your hand slip out from under his. The chatter of the restaurant started up once more, placated by his calm demeanor.

“I’m…I’m…” You couldn’t find the words. Taking a step back, you bowed deeply again. “I’m terribly sorry!” Teayong pulled you up quickly, too nervous at your habit to bow to second guess touching you again.

“It’s alright, really. I’m not seriously hurt, and you got whatever landed on my notebook. It’s too old for me to care now about a little spilled coffee on it.” Your face was riddled with worry, especially as he shook out his hand, trying to cool the red mark on his thumb.

“Oh!” Quickly, you reached into your other apron pocket, pulling out a small tube of burn cream and a bandaid. You hesitated for a second, hand awkwardly held between handing the items to the handsome stranger or helping it apply it. Taeyong hesitated a moment too, before holding out his hand for your to help. Your tears had slowed now, but your tear-stained face coupled with the grateful smile made his heart leap into his throat. “I-You get burned quite a bit when you’re learning to make drinks,” you explained, expertly applying a dab of cream on the worst spot and wrapping it securely in the bandaid. Taeyong flexed his finger, impressed with the range of motion he still had, as you gestured to the countless small burn marks that littered your arms and hands. “It’s probably the thing I’ve gotten best at since starting here, healing a burn.”

“Thank you,” he replied softly. You beamed at him, before worriedly looking down at the table again.

“I’ll have someone bring you a new coffee, since I ruined the last one…two.” You winced, thinking for a moment before leaning down, writing something quickly into his notebook with his discarded pen. When you righted, he noticed it was a number, a small arrow pointing towards the drying stain. “My KakaoTalk, so I can pay for a new notebook.” Before Taeyong could protest, you held up your hand, stopping him. You were back to looking at your feet, avoiding eye contact completely. “Please let me do this. It’s the least I could do.” When he didn’t respond, you nodded once, picking up both cups on the table to get him a new one.

In your desperate desire to escape, you didn’t notice Taeyong’s bright red face, eyes blown out in absolute wonder. No, you were firmly hunched over the espresso machine, getting chewed out by your manager, to notice him let out a giggle, flopping back into his seat and running his burned thumb softly over your number scribbled into his notebook.

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lucy90712 · 2 years

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Marc Marquez- Beach days

After a long and tough couple of months it's finally summer break and Marc and I are going on a short holiday to just get away from everything and relax for a few days before he needs to start training again and the season restarts. Usually we don't go away during the summer break we go during the off season as there is a bit more time but this year we both needed a break so decided to go to Tenerife to get some time away and just lay on a beach for a week. The holiday was a relatively last minute decision in my terms at least as we only booked flights last week after making sure that Marc wouldn't have anything he had to do which luckily he didn't so we were able to get the break we needed. Last night Marc stayed up packing because he loves to leave things until the last minute which meant that we didn't get to sleep until around 2am when we had to be up at 5:30 which was not at all ideal but we have both lived on less sleep so we should be ok.

Our alarm went off at 5:30 like we had set it too but it still felt way too early especially on the break and getting up was made no easier by Marc who rolled on top of me and put his head in my neck not wanting to get up himself. Eventually we decided it was best we got up so Marc rolled off of me and then offered me a hand to help me up which I gladly took and used it as an opportunity to give him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready. Not a lot of thought had been put into my outfit as I just wanted to wear something comfy for the flight and I did just that by wearing some sweatpants and one of Marc's t-shirts that I often steal from him as its comfy and seeing as I was already looking a bit of a mess I just brushed my hair and put it back up in a bun and called it a day.

When I left the bathroom Marc wasn't in the bedroom so I went out to the living room to find him in the kitchen making coffee for the both of us and he had put all of our suitcases by the door so we can just grab them when we need to leave. Once the coffee was ready I grabbed two mugs for us both and he poured them which I thanked him for before we both sat at the breakfast bar taking a few sips in silence before talking about what we wanted to do with our time away. Most of the things we talked about doing didn't involve much effort or could really be considered doing anything but that's exactly what we wanted as we don't get too much time to do that usually so any chance we get to be lazy is like a dream come true. We talked for a little while as we finished our coffee before we had to leave for the airport and I grabbed our keys while Marc got the suitcases in the car which I did try and help with but he grabbed them before I could help.

The car ride to the airport was relatively quick and easy and we found a parking space very quickly which gave us plenty of time to get through all the checks. Even after all this time of constantly being at the airport I still hate them because most of the time something doesn't seem to go to plan I just have very bad luck with airports which is why I dread having to get a plane anywhere. Marc often makes fun of me for my luck at airports but that is until he has to go with me and has to deal with my luck but today he seemed in good spirits. He dragged me right into the airport which was weirdly deserted for a weekend during the summer but I wasn't about to complain as we actually made it though check in and security in record time for me and we even had about 45 minutes until our plane boarded but I was still skeptical that things weren't going to take a turn for the worse.

"Would you look at that you made it through without a disaster look at you go" Marc joked

"Don't speak too soon I've made it to this point in good spirits before like the time my flight got delayed 12 hours and then cancelled" I reminded him

"I forgot about that I will shut up until we get on the plane" he said putting his hands over his mouth

I laughed at him until I realised he was deadly serious, he just sat there looking at me with a smile while I waited to see if he would say something but he never did. Eventually he broke the cycle and handed me one of his earbuds so that we could watch Netflix together which we did still in silence until we were able to go to our gate and board the plane. I have a list as long as my arm of weird experiences I've had when boarding a plane most of which involve creepy people so as we were boarding Marc kept me close to him with either an arm around my waist or a tight grip on my hand. Usually he isn't very protective because he knows I can handle myself but it must have got to him hearing all my stories because when anyone so much as looked at me weirdly he gave them a death stare while holding me even closer if that was even possible. Just having him with me meant that less people paid attention to me and meant that the whole experience was a lot more enjoyable and I didn't feel like there were eyes on me constantly.

We made it onto the flight and settled into our seats which luckily were next to each other because before we have been sat in completely different parts of the plane which wasn't very fun. The aisle seat next to Marc was left free for quite a long time as other people boarded the plane but right as the last few people were getting on an older lady came and up and sat in the seat next to me which honestly a relief as it could have been so much worse. As we waited for the plane to take off Marc and I talked to the lady who was asking us about our lives and why we were going out to Tenerife and she asked us a bit about our lives because she recognised Marc slightly so we had to explain but she wasn't at all phased which was nice and it meant we got to have a nice conversation before the plane took off.

Once the plane had taken off our conversation stopped and Marc and I put his earbuds back in to continue with what we were watching and I used the opportunity to move closer to Marc and rest my head on his shoulder. Marc wasn't happy with the gap between us so he moved the arm of the seat and pulled me closer and let me rest my legs over his so I took the opportunity to take a short nap and catch up the sleep I missed during the night. Our plane landed and Marc woke me up just as the plane was touching down which was very much a shock when the plane juddered slightly but it definitely woke me up. Before we got off the plane I went to help the lady grab her carry on bag because she was struggling but I didn't do much better as I was too short so Marc saved the day by lifting me up very slightly which allowed me to achieve my aim. He laughed in my ear quietly and called me short which I thought was less funny but I didn't say anything just lightly hit his arm to get him to stop teasing me.

"Thank you for that dear" the lady said

"No need to thank me its my pleasure" I replied

"Well I hope you two enjoy your break together it sounds like you need it and you sir need to never let her go because she is your soulmate I can just tell" she said

"I don't plan on ever letting her go" Marc said giving me a smile

The lady left us with a smile while I stood there stunned because I have known for a while Marc is the one I want to be with forever but to pretty much hear him say it has really taken me by surprise as he doesn't often share his feelings like that. I could tell that he was a little nervous that what he said was too much and that he would have put me off which I know because he had done this about about a million times before so I know how to handle him. Quickly I whispered in his ear that I didn't plan on letting him go either which made his face change from one of worry to all smiles and he squeezed my hand even tighter than before. We then walked off the plane and made it through the airport without any issues and got our rental car to drive to the villa we had rented for the week so that we so have to be around a bunch of other people.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most of the week me and Marc have done very little other than hang around the pool and go on walks in the evening although one day we did decide to go to the water park nearby and it was actually super fun especially as it wasn't as busy as I thought it would have been. Today however we have decided to go to the beach as on one of our walks we found a small beach that didn't look too busy plus it had beautiful black sand which we both thought was really interesting. As we've been doing all week we didn't get up early but once we were up we had breakfast quickly and got ready, for once I was ready first because I was too lazy to do my hair so just put it up while Marc wanted to do his even though there is no point but I let him be. He didn't take too much longer to get ready and once he was we got our things together and started the 15 minute walk to the beach.

When we got to the beach there was only one other couple there so we managed to find a good spot where we had our own space, we set up our towels in a quiet corner that was slightly shaded from the rocks nearby and out of view from the street. The second I sat down Marc threw me my sunglasses as well as the sunscreen and of course I couldn't catch them both so I caught my sunglasses which I quickly regretted when the sunscreen hit me in the stomach. Marc just laughed at me as I fell back but he did kiss my cheek to make up for it when he sat down too as well as taking the sunscreen bottle off my stomach. He got me to sit up and he moved behind me so that he could put the sunscreen on my back with his soft and warm hands which felt nice as he gently rubbed my skin. Once he was satisfied with his work he let me put the sunscreen on the rest of my body before I put it on his back for him and handed him the bottle so I could go back to laying in the warn sun.

While laying down I made the mistake of closing my eyes and so Marc took advantage of that by picking me up over his shoulder and ran towards the water throwing me in once we were deep enough that it wouldn't hurt me. When I came back up he was stood in front of me laughing his head off but that didn't last long as I used my entire body weight to tackle him into the water so that he wasn't laughing anymore but when he pulled me back under neither was I. The cycle went on for a bit longer before we called it a draw and actually went swimming like most normal people would do in the sea. The water was really nice and warm and very calm which meant I did a lot more floating on my back looking at the sky and the fluffy clouds in it, Marc was swimming around me for a while before stopping and coming to float next to me pointing out what some of the clouds looked like.

After a while of cloud watching we headed back to our towels to dry off and I grabbed my book to get some reading in which I've been doing everyday we have been here as I love to read but I never have enough time to get into a book when at home. Marc isn't as bothered about reading but whenever I read he gets me to tell him everything that happens so its like we've both read the book and can talk about what is happening. It gives me a warm feeling inside that as much as he doesn't like reading he takes an interest because I like it and he wants us to have something to talk about which is just the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I was laying down on my stomach with Marc right next to me just staring at my face which I could see out the corner of my eye which was quite distracting.

"What are you staring at me for" I laughed

"Am I not allowed to look at my girlfriend now?" He questioned

"You are I just wondered why you were doing it now" I said

"Because you look beautiful with your concentration face on" he explained

"Stop it your making me blush now" I said hiding my face

He gently pulled my hands away from my face and replaced them with kisses which only made me blush more, no matter how long we have been together he always manages to make me blush even by just complimenting me like he just did. Marc likes to take advantage of this in fact he is always giving me compliments just so he can see me blush as he finds it entertaining and he has about a million pictures of me on his phone of me hiding my face or looking as red as a tomato some of which he likes to post just to embarrass me further. He did just that this time leaning in next to me and took a selfie putting it on his Instagram story tagging me just to really add to the embarrassment. I was not about to let him get away with it though so I found my phone and pulled my usual trick of kissing him on the nose which always flusters him and once he was flustered I recreated the picture he took and put it on my story just to get back at him.

We went back and forth taking pictures of each other quickly turning from stupid ones to just cute pictures which I knew for a fact were being screenshotted because I was being tagged in more and more pictures by the minute but I didn't care because its fun to show off our relationship a little bit. Marc and I don't often share too much of our lives together as we have found out the hard way that it can be used against us but after a while we have given up caring and just share what we want and ignore the people who are bothered by it. While we were at it Marc made me get up and we took proper pictures together of which he posted the most ridiculous ones so he could well and truly win the embarrassment war.

Feeling a little bad he asked me if I wanted to go on a proper dinner date tonight which of course I did so we decided to head home to be able to shower and change. Luckily when packing I decided to bring a few nice dresses just in case we went out for dinner which turned out to be a good choice. The dresses I packed were all new or ones I haven't had chance to wear so after looking at my options I picked a red floral dress with quite a low neckline and a tie around the waist but it was nice and flowy so not too hot and it looked pretty cute on. While I was getting ready Marc was in the bathroom but when he walked out I saw his jaw drop slightly from my view in the mirror. He came over right away and put his arms around my waist kissing my jaw before just standing there as I finished off my makeup and even once I did he spun me round in his grip and we just stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before we let go of each other.

There is this little beach side restaurant we have walked past a few times that we walked to and managed to get a table on the back deck with a perfect view of the ocean which was still super calm and the moon was shining off of it creating a beautiful scene. A waiter quickly came and took our orders before leaving us alone to have a conversation about life which got quite deep pretty quickly and we talked about our hopes for our future together. The future isn't something we often think about as it just doesn't make sense to with Marc's focus always on the next race weekend and with the dangers that come with racing I never want to get too ahead of myself, but today we made an exception. We talked about having kids which we both agreed that we wanted in the next few years which is actually quite exciting as I've always wanted kids so the thought that in the next few years I could have a family of my own with the person I love the most is just magical.

After dinner we took the long way back to the villa to enjoy the evening air but once we got back we both changed into comfy clothes and got into bed with a movie on in the background as we cuddled up right next to each other. We only have a few days left until we go back home but I wouldn't mind one bit if it was spent exactly like this because this is my paradise not the nice scenery outside just being close with Marc is all I need to be happy.

#marc marquez #marc marquez fluff #MotoGP #motogp one shots #motogp imagines #motogp fluff

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homosexuhauls · 3 years

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Joanna Moorhead

Culture of silencing any challenge to prevailing ideology is damaging academic freedom, says professor

The press release that accompanies Prof Kathleen Stock’s new book says she wants to see a future in which trans rights activists and gender-critical feminists collaborate to achieve some of their political aims. But she concedes that this currently seems fanciful. As far as she is concerned, the book, Material Girls, sets out her stall – and she knows a lot of people will find it distasteful.

Stock, a professor of philosophy at the University of Sussex, says the key question she addresses – itself offensive to many – is this: do trans women count as women?

Whatever else about her views is controversial, she is surely on firm ground when she writes that this question has become surrounded by toxicity. But the problem for her is, at least partly, that many people do anything they can to avoid answering it. “Very few people who are sceptical talk about it directly, because they’re frightened,” she says. “It’s so hard psychologically to say, in reply: ‘I’m afraid not.’”

Stock is at pains to say she is not a transphobe, and also that she is sympathetic to the idea that many people feel they are not in the “right” body. What she says she opposes, though, is the institutionalisation of the idea that gender identity is all that matters – that how you identify automatically confers all the entitlements of that sex. And she believes that increasingly in universities and the wider world, that is a view that cannot be challenged.

“There’s a taboo against saying this, but it’s what I believe,” she says. “It’s fair enough if people want to disagree with me, but this is what I think.”

That last statement is loaded, too, because the gender identity row is closely linked, especially on university campuses, with freedom of speech. Campuses are a minefield for those wanting to discuss these issues, she says, and she has faced calls for her university to sack her. So she is supportive of the government’s controversial plans for a free speech bill, which critics including English PEN, Article 19 and Index on Censorship have argued will have the opposite effect.

In a joint letter, they argued that the legislation “may have the inverse effect of further limiting what is deemed ‘acceptable’ speech on campus and introducing a chilling effect both on the content of what is taught and the scope of academic research exploration”.

But Stock backs the bill: “I think vice-chancellors and university management groups have shown that they can’t manage the modern problems around suppression of academic freedom. I think there are some genuine instances of unfair treatment of controversial academics, and those academics should be able to seek meaningful redress.”

This week the University of Essex apologised to two professors, Jo Phoenix and Rosa Freedman, after an independent inquiry found the university had breached its free speech duties when their invitations or talks were cancelled after student complaints.

Stock grew up in Montrose, Scotland, the daughter of a philosophy lecturer and a newspaper proofreader, and studied for her degree at Exeter College, Oxford, going on to do an MA at the University of St Andrews and a PhD at Leeds.

Having come out as gay relatively late in life, she now lives in Sussex with her partner and two sons from her previous marriage. She regards her OBE, awarded earlier this year for services to higher education, as a signal that her views have at least some backing in the establishment.

“Academics being online, students being online – it’s introduced a whole new landscape for dealing with controversial ideas, especially when those ideas are controversial within your peer group or a student body. Threats to academic freedom don’t just come from China, or millionaires trying to buy a library wing for your college; they also come from students whipping up a petition within seconds of you saying something and trying to get you fired.”

Sometimes, she claims, it is more insidious than sackings: “For academics [the gender identity debate] has a chilling effect, because academics believe their careers may suffer in ways that are less visible: they don’t get promoted, or they’re removed from an editorial board.” The net result of all this, she says, is an impoverishment of ideas and knowledge, and damage to the dissemination of information.

Because another of Stock’s key arguments in her book is that her own profession, academia, has failed to look in detail at some claims made by trans activists. She questions some of the data that gets shared regarding violence against trans people, saying that a lot of it is produced by groups that adhere to a particular narrative.

“I don’t doubt that transphobic crime occurs, but I want to know to what extent it occurs in a way that could help the trans community better understand the problem it faces.” She’s disappointed, she says, in some fellow academics for not rising above the fray. “I thought the point of philosophy was that you would be able to argue things without resorting to ad hominem attacks – I thought that was the point of our training.”

How, then, in her view, have we got to where we are? Stock takes issue with Stonewall, the LGBTQ+ charity, which campaigns for trans inclusion and opposes the views of gender-critical feminists. The charity’s Diversity Champions programme is very popular on campuses, and Stock believes this has in part “turned universities into trans activist organisations” through their equality, diversity and inclusion departments.

Beyond this, the introduction of student fees has played its part in the current situation, Stock believes. “As soon as students started to pay, they became customers, and universities became much more deferential. They started talking about coproduction of knowledge, giving them much more choice over the whole experience.” The problem with that, she believes, is that “some young people come along with fixed ideas about gender identity theory, and it’s awkward – especially when universities are branding themselves as LGBT-friendly and queer-friendly.”

Philosophy is a vast space, most of it without risk of abuse. So what keeps her in this particular arena? “I was bullied as a child and I think that gave me experience of social ostracisation and toughened me up,” she says. “I’ve also got amazing support. Sure, some philosophers and colleagues are against my views, but others are very supportive.

“Plus it’s personal for me: I’ve struggled with my body in terms of femininity. I could easily aged 15 have decided I was non-binary or even a boy. And I feel very worried for teenagers who are now foreclosing reproductive possibilities and their future, or damaging their bodily tissues in irreversible ways, based on an idea that they may come to relinquish at a later date.”

One tragedy of the gender identity debate is how hate-filled and polarised it has become. Stock says she has suffered online abuse, but makes it clear that she is going to continue to state her case.

Material Girls: Why Reality Matters for Feminism by Kathleen Stock is published by Fleet

#Kathleen Stock #gender critical #material girls #radical feminism #philosophy #radfem safe #was pleasantly surprised to see this in the guardian #although jfc could you walk on egg shells more

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rika-kihira · 3 years

Text

Rika Kihira - Canon interview

original interview here.

Rika Kihira interviewed by Mika Noguchi

“I will spend this off-season being strict to myself so I can believe in myself at the Olympics.”

Rika Kihira, successfully landed the quad Salchow jump at the Japan Nationals. She finished in 7th place at the World Championship, but she had finished 2nd after her good performance for the SP.

She has turned this bitter experience into motivation for further improvement. And she has already started to move forward.

Q: You have entered Waseda University and enrolled in the department of Human Science this April. Is there any research field that you are interested in, or (do you have) a goal as a college student?

I have a strong desire to do any research that is related to my skating after all. That is the reason why I chose this specific field so I can use my research for my skating. Unfortunately, I couldn't attend the entrance ceremony because it was right after I had returned from the World Championship, and the classes have already started from April.

I enjoy studying about the relation of children’s health and environment to their athletic ability. Unlike adults, there are still some areas for children where their thinking does not function. So this is the area we analyze what kind of behaviours they would do and how do they improve their athletic ability.

Q: In terms of the environment for children’s physical activity, would you think it’s possible to apply your own life experience that you have been trying various sports from childhood?

I haven’t thought about making use of my childhood experience yet, but I feel that I am experimenting with my own body and that leads to my daily research. When I check my body condition such as fatigue, various movements and success rate of jumps and compare them to previous data, I often have my aha! moment by that. So I would like to do research that can be used for skating in future.

Q: The fact that you are experimenting with your own body is something that only top athletes can do. What kind of research do you want to apply to skating specifically?

After all, I want to think about my jumps theoretically. I'd like to do something like graphing and analyzing things that can be quantified, such as the changes of heart rate while skating the program, the difference between when I’m tired or energized, and how does the quality of sleep affect my performance—things like that.

If properly converted into data and accumulated, you can objectively see what you have experienced in the competition and then you can understand the reason and meaning of success and mistakes.

I haven't fully understood the university system yet, so I would like to look for an opportunity to find out how to conduct a study with my own body effectively.

Q: It has been an unusual season that you were training in Switzerland as your main training base in the middle of the pandemic.

There were times when I struggled to keep my motivation high. Because all the competitions I had planned to attend got cancelled until last December, I didn’t have any chance to show what I had been training for and I also didn’t get to do intense training.

There was also a time when I couldn't enjoy training because there had been no chance to feel a sense of accomplishment. But the training environment in Switzerland was very good in that I could naturally have a feeling of gratitude. I could somehow manage to let the difficult time go by with that feeling (of gratitude).

Q: It seems that your life in Switzerland gives you a very positive effect, doesn’t it Kihira-san?

I usually felt stressed before the competitions, thinking about the competitions all the time or connecting every single thing happening to negative feelings and thinking, “Oh...I don’t think I can make it at the competition either.” But now I feel that the current environment in Switzerland made me think more positively.

During the off season especially, the training was very difficult, so I didn't have to worry if I wasn't doing my best. Each day I started feeling a sense of accomplishment when I felt my whole body was exhausted (after the training). Although we had a very intense training menu, it wasn’t so difficult to push myself together with my friendly team mates while being surrounded by nature in Switzerland.

Q: You landed the quad Salchow jump for the first time at the Japan Nationals last December. With this success, was there any change to your mind about going into the World Championship?

It was difficult for me to gain confidence about myself so easily just because I had landed a quad jump for once. So I wasn't really able to feel excited for the World Championship. But when I arrived in Stockholm and entered the venue, I felt like "I've done what I could do and I want to show what I've been training in front of everyone naturally”.

Q: At Worlds, you landed triple Axel jump and had a good start with 2nd after SP.

I was determined to perform with gratitude for many people who supported me until now. I received all the support from my coaches, my fans, and my family. I had no choice but to show my gratitude there when I went to jump (the triple Axel). And I also wanted to confirm my love for figure skating by landing the jump successfully at the competition.

Q: Only a few female skaters have been able to do both triple Axel and other quad jumps. Do you find it (being able to jump 3A and quads) significantly difficult?

Actually, the triple Axel is more difficult to stabilize since it is a kind of jump that really depends on the ice condition. So the timing for the jump take-off may easily change because of the position of the blades or the softness of the ice.

And the quad Salchow on the other hand, I do feel it is relatively stable even at the different rinks. So I think that the triple Axel is a slightly unique jump.

Q: Is there any difficulty in balancing the two types of these difficult jumps?

I don't think the triple Axel is becoming [more] difficult after I've landed the quad Salchow. But as I practiced it more, I found that jumping triple Axel followed by quadruple Salchow in one program is difficult compared to just doing each jump alone.

I think the fact that there are only a few female skaters who can do both types of jumps is because they tend to get mixed up on how to use their body for each jump.

For me, if I continue my training everyday so that I can do run-through without any mistakes, there will be less difficulties to do these jumps.

Q: There were expectations for you to challenge the quad Salchow and the triple Axel for FP at the World Championship.

I was practicing the quad Salchow during the official practice in the morning practice on the day of the free program. But soon after the official practice, they switched the rink for FP from the sub rink to the main rink. (t/n: it seemed that official practice was held at the sub rink that was supposed to be used for FP.) Accordingly, I only had 6 minutes practice for the last chance to adjust myself to the ice. I thought I couldn’t make it in time so I decided to go with two triple Axels instead of a quad Salchow (and a triple Axel).”

It was difficult for me to adjust to the ice in just 6 minutes, but I think there will be such a situation at the Olympics. In order to jump the quad Salchow and the triple Axel at the competition, I really felt the importance of the training to adjust myself immediately in just 6 minutes.

Q: What kind of training do you want to do in order to adjust yourself and be able to jump both the quad and the triple Axel in just 6 minutes?

I was always checking my jumps starting from triples (and then quads) in order during 6 minutes practice, but at the World Championship, 6 minutes ended when I just finished checking my triple Axels twice.

As I’m including the quad jump into my program regularly, I feel that I need my triple jumps to be ready for the performance without having to check on them during the 6 minutes practice. I would like to do more training to increase the stability of triple jumps on a daily basis.

Q: You mentioned that you did well with your mental control at the World Championship.

Yes. I think I was able to relax rather than feel nervous. From my experience, I started to understand that I’m unable to perform well when I'm nervous, so I feel that I've figured out how to concentrate and relax clearly.

Q: Is it quite different from the way you concentrated before?

For example, if I’m getting nervous and wondering if I can really jump during the waiting time, I would move my whole face and say “A, I, U, E, O” to loosen my face muscles, and then I also laugh at myself. This is something that I do to turn my anxiety into excitement, and my nervousness into laughter.

Also, in order to avoid being nervous right before my performance, I usually skate with this image of all judges sitting in their position, and think “how would it be if this is the real competition?” during the official performance.

Q: After the World Championship, many of your comments were very positive, weren’t they?

I definitely think it’s better not to get depressed and think like, "I’m not good at everything.” And I’m very positive about the fact that I'd been training really hard to increase the stability of quad jumps for the competitions.

I remember that my body movement was better during the morning practice on FP day and my performance was better than SP.

And two days after the competition, my condition was getting better again and I could pull myself together. Of course I have the regret that I couldn't get a good result, but now I want to think about what was wrong and what was good, and move forward positively while reflecting on it.

Q: Please tell us about your programs in future. Your SP’s one-handed cartwheel was getting so much attention this season. Do you have any plans for the next season already?

Right now, I’m planning to keep my SP "The Fire Within", but I will change my FP "Baby, God Bless You" to something else. I really love my FP’s music this season, the birth of life was its theme. It was a beautiful program and also had good flow to it, so I tried to express the beauty of the music by a sense of speed of skating.

For the Olympics, I am planning to create a program with good speed and also some parts where I can go slow and take a good rest.

I really want to work hard on expressing the emotion through (my) facial expression so the audience will understand the program effortlessly, like a story being told, connected from beginning to end.

Also, it is important not to make any mistakes even if I put in difficult jumps, so I want to make sure to have a part where I can calmly adjust myself before going into the second half of the program. So I want my new program to have some sort of accent (for the rhythm of music and choreography).

Q: What kind of training do you want to do during this off-season?

First of all, intense body training. I’m planning to go over my competitive programs (SP&FS) when I will practice the show programs during the upcoming ice shows from spring till summer.

In order not to waste my time until the Beijing Olympics, I want to think about the Olympics every day and make sure to do intense training when my physical condition is good.

By spending the (off-season) time being strict to myself in this way, I can believe in myself by thinking, "I've been doing my best for the Olympics" at the moment of my performance at the Olympics. So I want to spend this off-season being strict for myself.

Q: For the Olympics, many people (media) will focus on how you would fight against the Russian skaters.

At the World Championship, I felt that the Russian skaters were able to perform their best at the very right timing (competition). But right now, I think there’s no need to compare myself with somebody else, the result from this competition came from the fact that I couldn’t perform what I could usually do.

It’s not that I have some parts that need to be improved compared to other people, but I could find a lot of my own challenges. I want to overcome them before going into the Olympics.

You may make a big mistake if you keep trying at random, just because you are way behind the Russian players.

If someone will do quintuple jumps, I wonder if I would go for quint jumps, that's not the case. I believe that it will eventually show in the scores if I keep doing what I can do right now.

I did feel that the Russian ladies skaters are strong, but I just want to calmly analyze my situation and keep doing my best every day.

In April 2021, remotely during the quarantine period after returning to Japan

thank you to Fukuhana for translating and to Sunny for proofreading and editing the interview.

#rika kihira #interview #translation #season: 2020 2021

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Long Night in the Valley chapter 14

“It’s Bakugo.”

“Old Bakugo,” said Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Uraraka. “He hasn’t sworn at us yet.”

“Wish fulfillment old Bakugo,” corrected Todoroki.

First contact, said two voices. Aizawa could recognize one as belonging to Two.

“Stop comparing me to the exploding brat,” snapped Two. He returned his attention to Midoriya. “I don’t agree with your philosophy,” he said. “But this isn’t the time or the place.”

Midoriya nodded even as he swayed in place, the edges of his body fuzzy.

“Your idea will work. Eight can take him.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Aizawa.

“Nine here just ran into that fire user.”

“Dabi,” supplied Midoriya, voice thin. “Thank you for letting me use your quirk, sensei.”

“Anytime,” said Aizawa.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Uraraka.

“Stay back and don’t distract him,” said Two. “I’d send you on ahead to One, but I need to give him my power if he wants his ridiculous escape plan to work.” He crossed his arms. “Focus, Nine.”

The thing was, Dabi relied on his quirk to the exclusion of everything else. Which was fine. It was a powerful quirk, and his body really wasn’t up to quirkless fighting, seeing as it was literally stapled together.

But there was a reason he had not faced Aizawa himself in the training camp, but instead had delegated that task to one of Twice’s duplicates. No matter how much his quirk hurt him, no matter how much it reminded him of that man and that time, he did not fare well in fights without it.

Toshinori and Izuku had picked up on this, and, thanks to the joys of partial telepathy and haunted quirks, had managed to come up with a plan.

It was, if Izuku was being honest, a sort of terrible plan, but Izuku and Toshinori were both injured and exhausted, and it was the best they could come up with.

Izuku would hang back and cancel Dabi’s quirk, while Toshinori beat him to a pulp.

This division of labor was decided upon through the observation that Toshinori had much greater experience in beating people to pulp and that Izuku probably wouldn’t be able to focus on using Aizawa’s quirk and fighting at the same time. But Izuku worried. Toshinori had been under so much strain today. His body was in just as bad a shape as Dabi’s. If Izuku blinked.

So don’t blink.

What a comforting consensus from the peanut gallery in the back of his head.

Nana chuckled, but she sounded strained. Not much else we can do for you right now, kid.

Toshinori was prepared to fight dirty.

As a hero and Symbol of Peace, he was often faced with the expectation that his fights be clean, straightforward affairs. Usually, he complied with the expectation. Few people could match his strength. Few enemies stood up again or kept fighting after he knocked them back, once. For those enemies who could match him, relatively clean fights were often still the best option to defeat them.

But there had always been exceptions, All for One being chief among them.

Toshinori could fight dirty. It was a skill he knew better than to let lapse.

He knew how much old injuries could hurt, and he had no scruple against going after them. Any weak point was fair game.

(This wasn’t even beginning to mention the others, still whispering in the back of his mind, who had maintained the thin line between the light of hope and the darkness of despair for so many years.)

His fist impacted the line of Dabi’s medical staples. Toshinori felt them bite into his knuckles, felt Dabi’s skin tear around them.

The man – the boy, really, he couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than Izuku – reeled back, shaking his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe his quirk was gone. Then he looked up, at Izuku, and Toshinori could give him this, at least: He caught on fast.

He snapped an arm out, clotheslining Dabi before he could pass him and attack Izuku. Dabi hit the ground, and Toshinori tried to follow up his advantage with a sharp kick to the head.

But, even with as much experience as Toshinori had, Dabi was younger and sprier. He recovered quickly, retaliating with comparatively clumsy but strong fists.

Toshinori was very aware of the time limit he was on. How long had Izuku kept his eyes open already? Aizawa could only keep his version of the quirk going for a few minutes.

He knew when Izuku started to waver, the concern of the past users going clear and sharp in the back of his head.

Dabi’s hands burst into flame.

“Touya!”shouted Izuku.

The man whipped his head around, apparently forgetting that Toshinori was even there.

“We saw your hair dye, you drama queen!”

Toshinori grabbed the sides of Dabi’s head, and tried to slam it into his knee, but Dabi pulled free. They were both breathing heavily, now, but Izuku had his eyes back open and fixed on Dabi.

Toshinori doubted they’d be so lucky to distract Dabi again. The others slid into place in his mind, their experience neatly complimenting his own. They needed to finish it before Izuku had to blink again.

They raised their fists.

“Visit your mom, you loser!”

They closed in.

“At least tell the police what happened to you, so they can get your siblings out!”

So, it turned out Izuku did have something else to contribute to the fight.

“Please repeat what you told me earlier,” ordered the HPSC president.

The hapless liaison with the DNA testing center flinched, then hid the flinch behind a cough. “Well,” he said, “our technicians ran Midoriya’s DNA through a number of databases, and Midoriya is related to the Scourge of Kamino, but, uh, I think it best if I let her explain the rest.” He stepped out of view of the camera, the coward.

The technician waved at the camera. “Hi, uh. So, I guess the first weird thing about the sample you gave me was how contaminated it was. There were, like, almost a dozen different people’s worth of DNA in the sample you gave me, which… usually Hawks is better than that? But then I remembered the nomu DNA, and the Scourge’s DNA, so in retrospect… Anyway, I sort of ran them all through our databases—”

“Which databases?” interrupted Mr. Brave. “The commission ones, the police ones, the public ancestry ones?”

“All of them,” said the technician. “I ran them through the old ones, too, because the Scourge of Kamino is supposed to be over a hundred years old, isn’t he? I’m kind of surprised he wasn’t run through the old databases himself earlier. You could have closed dozens of cases.”

“Get on with it,” hissed the offscreen commission liaison.

“But I ran them through, and, uh, one was All Might.”

A whisper ran through the room. “He stole All Might’s quirk?” asked one hero, traumatized.

“I don’t know,” said the technician, nervously. “I mean, All Might was there, so it could have just been contaminated in the normal way, but… No, I’ll come back to All Might’s DNA in a bit. Then there were three other heroes’ DNA, Skyrunner, Fidelity, and Lariat.”

“We’ll have to assume he has their quirks, too,” said the commission president grimly, for the benefit of the assembled heroes. “Continue.”

“Another matched to the vigilante Forewarning. Then one matched to what was labeled as a 99% surety DNA sequence from Tempest.”

“My god,” said Mr. Brave.

“Then there were some sequences that matched to samples taken from the scenes of various crimes and terrorist actions but are otherwise unknown. That left two DNA samples that could be Midoriya’s assuming he isn’t over a hundred years old. They both matched as relatives to the Scourge of Kamino.”

“What kind of relatives?”

“Uh, one was rather distant, and was actually had the least DNA present out of all the other strands… The closest possible relation would be half-brother, although cousins might be possible… The other was a parent-child relationship, and the most present DNA sequence, so I would assume that one belonged to Midoriya. The thing is…” She trailed off.

“We don’t have all day.”

“The thing is, all of the different people I’ve mentioned also are related to the Scourge of Kamino.”

Silence.

“Excuse me,” said Mt. Lady, raising a hand. “Did you say all of them? Like, including—”

“Including All Might, yes, though he’s probably more like a great-grandson or something along those lines,” said the technician. “Once you get more than a generation or two, it’s hard to tell, because the ratios of what you get from grandparents aren’t even…”

“Do you have anything more to add?”

“Yeah. After running them through the databases… Well, there are dozens of active heroes that are at least loosely related to either them or the Scourge of Kamino, not to mention villains, common criminals, and civilians who had to register their DNA for one reason or another. And the ShiHi cell line? The one that replaced the HeLa line in almost every drug trial after the quirked population got majority status? That’s a perfect match.” She laughed, clearly on the edge of hysteria. “I mean, I don’t know what we expected. He’s over a century old, of course he’s going to have kids and family members. And he’s – And he’s clearly into shady medical research. Wouldn’t put it past him to have donated to sperm banks, the sick—”

The commission president muted the technician. “You see,” he told the heroes, “why we must act to contain and neutralize Midoriya Izuku as a threat as soon as possible. So many heroes being related to an archvillain like the Scourge of Kamino would damage confidence in the hero system, perhaps irreparably.”

“Are any of us-?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant right now, do you?” asked the commission president, smoothly. “What is relevant is ensuring that Midoriya’s DNA family tree never gets into public hands.” He fell quiet, scanning the heroes with dark eyes. “Regardless of whether or not any of you could find yourselves in it, the fact of the matter is that the ensuing investigations would lay bare other things you may not wish to come to light.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Hawks is putting together a team to track down the League of Villains. In light of recent revelations, we believe they have been working closely with Midoriya…”

“Maybe you can use my quirk,” said Shouto. “If you’re fighting Dabi, ice would be the perfect counter.”

Midoriya shook his head. “You’re not related. Can’t.”

“What?”

Two sighed. “The trick he did with your teacher’s quirk only works on people related to him.”

Shouto blinked, then turned to look at Aizawa. “Sensei—”

“Absolutely not,” said Iida, loudly.

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” protested Shouto.

“You can’t ask people if they have secret love children! It’s improper! Let us simply wait quietly like, ah, I’m not sure we caught your name earlier, sir.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Two.

“In any case, let us wait quietly,” said Iida, not one to be easily put out.

“I’m related to Midoriya?” asked Aizawa in tones approaching despair.

“You are,” said Two. “I think you’re related to one of my younger siblings, like Six is. Possibly to the Shimuras, as well, given the secondary portion of your quirk.”

“So,” said Shouto, the gears in his brain turning, “Midoriya is related to all of you?”

“Some more distantly than others, but, yes.”

“So, he based you off relatives and people he knew in real life.”

Two sighed heavily. “Look. That was obviously a lie. Six only bothered with it because of that government bastard that’s crawling around.”

Midoriya had been right. Shouto’s conspiracy theories could be used as an interrogation technique.

“Then what’s the truth?” asked Shouto. “Or are you just embarrassed, like Midoriya is about how All Might is clearly his father?”

Midoriya made a very distressed sound, and Shouto realized that maybe this wasn’t the time.

“You have no room to talk when the pyromaniac currently trying to roast Eight is your older brother, you peppermint styled weirdo.”

“You really are like Bakugo.”

“Do you have some sort of death wish?”

“C-can you guys not? This is hard…” said Midoriya. Then, he gasped and fell to his knees. “He got him. Oh, gosh.” He took a deep breath. “My eyes.”

“Luckily, you won’t need them for this,” said Two, kneeling in front of Midoriya. “In the movement, I was called Shadow Dragon. One came up with the name. He named my quirk, too. Perception Filter. Wanted to name it Chameleon Circuit for a while, but that made no sense. He was such a nerd. He’s still a nerd.”

“Yeah?” panted Midoriya. “Guess that… isn’t a surprise. He used old manga to support his arguments with—No, it doesn’t make it better that you only used that argument once. I mean, sure, I’d probably have made the same—”

“Focus, Nine,” said Two, snapping his fingers in front of Midoriya’s face.

Shouto stepped forward.

“It’s okay, Todoroki,” said Midoriya. “I’m just… How did it work? The Perception Filter?”

“No idea. We didn’t have fancy tests and doctors on hand to figure out the mechanics. But I can tell you what it did. When it first came in—” Midoriya nodded at this, as if he heard something in the sentence that Shouto was missing, “—I could disappear from the senses of one targeted person, along with anything I was carrying. Sight, hearing, smell – that last will be the important one for you.”

“Gigantomachia,” said Midoriya, nodding again.

“Exactly. Later, I was able to affect more people at a time, and my range grew. The fewer people I was hiding from, the farther I could reach, up to about a mile. Sometimes, I could draw attention towards myself, too, although I could never keep it up for long.”

“Activation?” asked Midoriya.

“Don’t think too hard about being hidden. You’re blending in. Part of the scenery. No ripples on the surface of the pond. A shadow inside a shadow.”

“Okay,” said Midoriya. “I think I’ve got it. Were you… were you ever able to hide other people with you? Otherwise…”

“Sometimes I thought I did. When Three and I worked together, we were always way luckier than we should have been, and there were some incidents with cars… But it never happened in a way I could test. Your best bet is just carrying Eight.”

“R-right. Okay. I’ll try that.”

“Izuku, you can barely open your eyes. Or stand up. You aren’t going to carry me.”

“But Two said—”

Toshinori frowned deeply and hoped Two got the message. “Just focus on yourself, right now, alright? Gigantomachia will be looking for you, first, not me.”

We’ve always been thankful Gigantomachia isn’t the brightest of All for One’s minions.

Even if he is one of the most annoying.

I don’t know if annoying is the word I’d use…

Toshinori blinked and shook his head. “You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m okay,” said Izuku, trying to get up. “T’many quirks at once.”

Toshinori put his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, silently telling him to stay down. What a time to forget where he had packed the blankets… Although…

He looked back at where he’d propped Dabi, unconscious, up against a tree.

Dabi seemed to have a cold resistance vestigial mutation… although how Toshinori knew that was a mystery for another day (one probably connected with how One for All manifested in Izuku) and he was a fire quirk user. He didn’t really need that jacket. Besides, Toshinori was a villain now. Sort of. As he and Izuku had discussed earlier, villains were veritable bastions of pettiness.

He stole Dabi’s coat and wrapped it around Izuku’s shoulders.

Miles away, trying to coordinate heroes over a video call, Hawks lost contact with one of his feathers. Specifically, the one he’d hidden in Dabi’s coat. He did not frown, twitch, stutter, or otherwise falter. He did, however, curse internally, using words he suspected the hero commission would have like him to never have learned.

Dabi must have found the feather and destroyed it. Hawks had thought he’d hidden it better than that.

This was going to be a pain to explain.

Giagantomachia paused for a second, then, with a howl, redoubled his attacks.

“Can anyone tell what he’s screaming about?” demanded Tomura.

“No idea!” said Toga, her cheerfulness more than a little ragged.

“Hey, boss!” said Twice. “If I made a double of this guy, do you think they’d fight each other, or – Dear god, who in their right mind would want two of these things running around?”

“LITTLE LORD,” wailed Machia, “WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“Say, Shigaraki,” said Mr. Compress, narrowly dodging a boulder, “you don’t – ha – think he’s referring to the little green haired – er, white haired – oh, you know what I mean.”

Yeah, Tomura did, actually, which meant the brat (who might be Sensei’s brat – don’t think about it) was around here somewhere, and they’d missed him.

(Like everything else about this situation, Tomura had mixed feelings about this.)

“So, maybe, if the boy and the giant are acquainted, the mother—”

“Do all of you idiots have a death wish? You don’t fight two bosses at once unless you want to be pancaked.”

“I was thinking she could perhaps calm the giant—”

“Yeah, right before they team up to kill us. What part of this are you not getti-?”

Mr. Compress didn’t quite make the dodge and was catapulted into one of the few nearby trees that were still standing. As he lost consciousness, all of the various marbles in his pockets ballooned and broke, disgorging their contents. This meant that Tomura had to rescue Midoriya Inko from being crushed between an entire bus stop shelter (why, Compress, why?) and several logs, because if there was even a chance that she was Sensei’s wife, Tomura didn’t fancy his chances at staying alive if she was unalived in his general vicinity.

As Tomura was in no way a goody-two-shoes hero student, had never trained himself to safely save people, and had a quirk that literally destroyed everything his touched, this went far from perfectly.

At least Midoriya seemed unharmed.

“Ah,” she said. “My shirt.” She shifted slightly. “And my bra…”

There was a shout of utter rage from Gigantomachia, and Tomura contemplated just letting Machia kill him. Surely, being stomped flat by a man taller than most five story buildings would be less painful than whatever Sensei would come up with.

“Oh, my, Machia, is that you?” asked Midoriya Inko, quite calmly, as if she weren’t standing half naked in the middle of a battlefield in winter. “It’s been forever.”

“MRS. LORD!” shouted Machia, his eyes tearing up. “I AM SO SORRY! I LOST LITTLE LORD!”

“Oh, really? He was here, then?” Her eyes were glittering. “I’m sure he couldn’t have gone too far. If we walk around a bit, I’m sure he’ll hear us calling. In the meantime… perhaps you can explain to me what, exactly, you do for my husband? Your role in his business seems to have been downplayed.”

“Is that better?” asked Toshinori.

Izuku nodded tiredly. Despite Two’s instructions, he couldn’t keep up Perception Filter and, well, do anything else, really. Toshinori wasn’t much better. Izuku could tell, through One for All, that he was also on his last legs.

“Alright. Let’s keep going the way we were before,” said Toshinori, pulling Izuku up. “Got to get out of Gigantomachia’s range, so you can sleep.”

He did not say that reaching the Wild Wild Pussycats’ camp was now out of the question, with how beaten up they were. They’d be sleeping outside tonight. Hopefully they had enough clothes and blankets…

Izuku shuddered as the pounding sensation in his head increased.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Toshinori, guiding Izuku with a hand on his back. “Good, you have the briefcase, good.” Toshinori kept muttering encouragement. Izuku really wasn’t paying attention, which made him feel terrible, but he had to keep Perception Filter going. He had to keep going. Just a little bit more… Aizawa-sensei and his friends were almost to One. One would get them out before he broke through.

He just had to hold on until then.

Midoriya’s form flickered and then faded. Two sighed.

“Is he alright?” asked Aizawa. “Is he safe?”

“As safe as he and Eight can be, wandering through a forest filled with All for One’s minions while the government tries to track him down in the middle of winter,” replied Two. “Which isn’t very safe, speaking from experience. Come on, let’s go.” Two walked out the hole in the wall, not waiting to see if Aizawa or any of the kids followed.

“You’re calling Yagi Eight, now?” asked Aizawa.

“That’s his number, yeah. Hurry up.”

“Yagi, not Yagi’s… impression, his copy in Midoriya’s mind.” Two didn’t answer. “You aren’t impressions or copies at all, are you? You’re real people, somewhere, that Midoriya is connected to. Why pretend otherwise?”

“Some of the others thought Nine could fix things with the government, if they didn’t know what was really going on. Thought it would be ‘worth it.’ So stupid, after everything…” They walked through the compound gate and into a living room.

“It seems awfully contrived, though. Why try to be dead heroes? Why pick people like Skyrunner and Fidelity to impersonate?”

Two snorted. “They weren’t impersonating anyone. They really are Skyrunner and Fidelity. Except for Eight and Nine, we’re all dead, otherwise we would have finished this by now. Eight almost did, all on his own.”

They turned a corner. Two young children played in a bedroom while a teen watched on. One child was obviously a younger version of Two. That hair was distinctive. The other child had a short curtain of white hair. They had action figures they were playing with, although Aizawa didn’t recognize who they were of.

First contact, said a single, young voice.

The face of the teen leaning against the wall was scribbled out, as if with a marker.

“Don’t look too closely at that one,” said Two.

“Who is that?” asked Uraraka.

“All for One. I suppose you’d call him the Scourge of Kamino.”

“He’s your older brother?” asked Todoroki, his eyebrows raised into his hairline.

“Don’t be disgusting. Biologically speaking, he was my cousin.”

Oh, no, thought Aizawa, don’t tell me... “Is he the one you have locked away? The one you don’t count as being ‘among your number?’”

Two sighed again.

“Are you doing that instead of swearing?” asked Todoroki. “The sighing, I mean.”

“I told you to stop comparing me to the explosion brat! I—” Two tsked, then frowned. “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?”

“This isn’t a safe memory, just a quick one. One should have been here to pick you up by now.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t safe?” asked Iida, before Aizawa could. “No matter how immersed we are here, it is only a memory, isn’t it?”

“You did hear the part where he’s breaking in, didn’t you? And the part where we’re all real people? Are those glasses just for show?”

“The real All for One is trying to break into Midoriya’s mind,” said Aizawa.

“W-wait,” said Uraraka, “but… Izuku… That wouldn’t mean that the commission was right…”

“Of course not. Nine would probably cut off all his limbs before betraying his friends. Even if I don’t agree with him, and think he shouldn’t… I can still see that. But where is One?”

“Why are you telling us this?” asked Aizawa. “You’ve told us why the others didn’t. But you have no reason to say anything, yourself, do you?”

Two turned slightly, to gaze at Aizawa out of the corner of his eye.

“As long as we’re waiting, I might as well collect as much information as possible, right?”

“It’s insurance,” said Two, finally. “It’s hard to see how this will turn out. Eight wants to take Nine out of the country, but even if that works, All for One will still be here. Someone else needs at least part of the story.” He turned more fully to face Aizawa, lips pressed tight against his teeth. “You have to understand. I want Nine to… do well. I don’t want this on him. He’s a kid. So are you.” He looked at the students, then back at Aizawa. “You’re all kids. If I can get someone else to take care of this for him, while he and Eight are somewhere safe…”

“All for One is in Tartarus,” said Aizawa.

“You think something like that’s going to stop him? I’m not entirely sure death would stop him. It didn’t stop us, and he’s at least as stubborn.”

Well, wasn’t this an impossibly heavy weight to set on Aizawa’s shoulders.

“I have no sympathy, you lazy caterpillar lookalike. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Get help if you can’t do it yourself. If I find out you pushed it onto children, I’ll kill you.”

“Wow, he’s secretly soft, too, just like Bakugo,” said Todoroki. “Are you sure you’re not related.”

“There is legitimately something wrong with you. Do you—”

The hinges of the vault snapped, and the door crumpled outward. Another well-placed kick sent the door tumbling outward with a crash.

Shaking his hand, All for One stepped into the mindscape and smiled.

“Well,” he said, dragging his gaze over the assembled One for All users, his sworn enemies and the closest thing he had to family, “isn’t this a lovely little reunion?”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Short Stack -- Part 2

Here we go

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x Pro Hero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, alcohol, swearing from obvious sources, biting kink, double penetration, anal, unprotected sex, the boys being great at aftercare

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: Still not great at smut, but fuck it (pun very much intended). Fight scenes are hard to write, but oh well, I’ll get better with practice. Love you guys ~

Part 1 - Part 3

Enjoy!

You didn’t think accepting Bakugou’s challenge would get you in such deep shit. You regret challenging him. He’s terrifying. But here you are, and there’s no getting out of it.

The three of you were in the agency’s separate training facilities, an arena with different training spaces, much like UA High’s USJ, only the spaces were designed to take on quirks of all kinds without taking much damage, the buildings were solid blocks of concrete with fake painted windows. You were standing in the middle of a clearing, facing off against Bakugou in an all-out spar using your quirks. Kirishima was standing a few dozen feet away, watching the unfortunate turn of events.

All of you were in your hero costumes. While Bakugou had his gauntlets to help him enhance the usage of his quirk, you and Kirishima couldn’t really use support items to help you, because your quirks just weren’t combat-oriented quirks. So your costume was relatively simple, allowing as much movement as possible for hand-to-hand combat. Black leggings, black halter tank top, black combat boots, and a black domino mask a lot like the one Bakugou wears, minus the extra spikes. On patrol when you weren’t fighting, you wore a black corset that had a cape flowing out from the bottom, and when you needed to jump into action you’d store it away with your quirk. Why? Because you’d been advised to make your costume more recognizeable and distinguishable from civilian clothing.

Now, you hadn’t even bothered putting on the corset, and were waiting to start facing off against pro hero Ground Zero. This almost definitely won’t end very well for you, but you can’t just let him win, so you drop into your stance and wait, staring at the towering figure a few yards away, ready to take whatever he throws at you. You need to keep as far away from his palms as possible, because if you get caught by that quirk it’s all over. So you just wait for him to move so he can’t read your movements as easily, and you know it’ll work, because Bakugou Katsuki is NOT a patient man.

Without warning he throws his hands behind him and fires off his quirk, propelling himself forward with impossible speed. But you’re still faster. You charge and duck under him as he throws a punch, immediately standing and sprinting away. He uses a blast from his palm to redirect his momentum with pinpoint accuracy, and propels after you. Thanks to his noisy quirk, you know how far and how fast he’s coming at you, and this time instead of ducking, you materialize a capture weapon much like the now retired Eraserhead used to use.

Quickly, you spin around and face Ground Zero, and as he swings you wrap his wrist with the material and dig your feet into the ground. Using his already insane momentum, you swing him around and slam him into the nearest building. He sets off a blast from his palms as he collides with the concrete, bracing himself and attempting to soften the impact. It worked. He was perfectly fine. Pissed off, but fine. Pro hero Ground Zero is absolutely terrifying.

The capture weapon vanished, and you braced for another round. There was no way he’d launch at you again. You’d already dodged him twice, managing to take advantage of his offensive tactics. This time, he charged without the use of his quirk, and you read his movements like the words on a book. When he planted his left foot to jump and flip over your head, you dropped to the floor on your knees, your back flattening on the ground and your feet just outside your hips. Just as he reached down to set off a blast at your face, you latched a quirk-cancelling cuff onto his wrist. As he tumbled, not prepared to lose his quirk, you materialized the capture weapon again, and wrapped up Ground Zero before he could regain his balance, completely immobilizing him.

After a few long seconds of silence and heavy breathing, Kirishima burst into laughter, “OH MY GOD IT’S JUST LIKE AIZAWA-SENSEI!! DO YOU REMEMBER BAKUGOU?!” At that, Bakugou snapped out of his shocked state and bellowed out a yell rivaling his quirk’s blasts. Kirishima just laughed harder. After a few minutes of Bakugou yelling and Kirishima dying of laughter, everything calmed. You unwrapped Bakugou and when you uncuffed him, he lifted his hand and popped off his quirk uncomfortably close to your face. It made you tense a little, but didn’t scare you like he probably intended to.

When you returned to sit with Kirishima, he asked how you learned to use the weapon the famed Eraserhead would use. “Actually, I learned from Aizawa-Sensei himself. Because of my quirk, I need to focus on close combat. I needed to learn as many different fighting styles and methods of restraining as possible. I actually approached a friend of mine that went to UA like you two, and he said he wouldn’t teach me because he was still learning, so we both learned from Eraserhead.”

“You know Shinsou?” Kirishima asked. “Yeah, I’ve known him since middle school.” His response was absolutely ridiculous. “Wow, he knew a cutie like you and didn’t tell anyone? How greedy.” You dropped your eyes to the ground and blushed hard at what just came out of the redhead’s mouth. “Anyway, we should get going. The sun’s gonna set soon and I think we’ve all gotta patrol tomorrow,” you quickly changed the subject. Bakugou agreed that it was time to pack up and go, so you went your separate ways.

The next few weeks passed pretty similarly. A few low-level villains popping up on patrol, hitting the gym whenever you could, running into either Kirishima or Bakugou en route, and occasionally going over to drink with the duo. There was shift change and the three of you all had Sundays off, and you’d go drink at their place on Saturdays, stay the night, and spend the day doing whatever the three of you felt like doing.

It was fun having people in your life. But soon enough you were spiraling again. You were just waiting for them to betray you and leave you lonely again. So when they began to get a little more physical with you, and you liked it, your paranoia screamed at you to run before they did. And there was another emotion swirling around inside you. Something that rivaled the paranoia and fear.

You really liked being around Bakugou and Kirishima. In fact, you were always sad to part ways with them. You ended up thinking about them way more often than you felt you should, and that scared you. You knew you were getting attached, but you didn’t know just how far you’d fallen until the day you were forced to either face your feelings and let them run free, or drown in your paranoid, lonely life.

It’s been a couple months now that you’ve got to know the duo that is Ground Zero and Red Riot. It’s Saturday, and the three of you were drinking and talking. Kirishima learned a while ago to drink a lot slower just to be able to talk more instead of passing out a couple hours in. The atmosphere in the apartment was strange, though, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. After being around the two, it became obvious that they were a little more than just roommates, seeing as they’d kiss around you now. Well, it was more Kirishima kissing Bakugou’s cheek and the blonde getting flustered. It was quite cute.

But that wasn’t the reason for the weird tension in the air tonight. But you couldn’t quite place it. The two were being flirty. Like, really REALLY flirty. Ever since you met them Kirishima was flirty, and Bakugou eventually threw in compliments that your outfit wasn’t terrible that day. Tonight though, as you all sat on the carpeted floor, Kirishima was laying it on thick, saying how beautiful you were and he always looked forward to seeing you, and a buzzed Bakugou was playing with your hair. At least, you thought he was buzzed. You couldn’t really tell.

You didn’t entirely mind the attention, you were extremely touch starved after all. But you were still wary about their intentions, your trust issues and paranoia preventing you from enjoying much of anything. Of course, the alcohol in your system brought down your defenses a little, and the part of you that was afraid of being abandoned dwindled down and drifted to the back of your mind.

After Kirishima was done gushing over you, he spread out and rested his head in your lap, and Bakugou put his head on your shoulder, still playing with your hair as his other hand wrapped around your waist from behind. A comfortable silence fell, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the warmth from the two bodies. You opened your eyes and looked down, expecting Kirishima to have fallen asleep, but his ruby eyes were looking straight back up at you.

Suddenly a gruff voice rumbled in your ear. “We really like you (y/l/n). And that’s saying a lot. I don’t like anybody.” Kirishima nodded his head in your lap, agreeing wholeheartedly with the blonde. Your walls came right back up, the paranoia coming back to bite you in the ass, and you let out a nervous chuckle. “I...I don’t think-” you were cut off by Bakugou shifting behind you, moving so he pressed your back into his chest and wrapped both his strong arms around your waist. “I know how you feel about people getting close, (y/l/n),” the blonde growled softly in your ear, “And we don’t expect you to just accept us out of the blue like this. But know that we’re willing to wait until you trust us with your heart.”

Bakugou shifted again and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your neck and whispering the confession. “We’ll wait, princess.” “We’ve been waiting, little pebble,” Kirishima chimed. You tilted your head in confusion, and Kirishima answered the silent question. “We’ve liked you since a little bit after we met you. At first we just liked hanging around you cause you were fun. But then…” he trailed off, knowing he didn’t have to say the rest.

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to read people. But now you were cursing your ability. Because you could read these two from the beginning, and you knew they’d never lie or deceive anyone. You knew from the second Bakugou judged your tiny figure aloud and Kirishima rolled over laughing at his partner’s defeat that they were good people. People you wanted in your life. People you could be safe with. You knew you could let your walls down around them, and they wouldn’t dream of hurting you. You knew, from the start, you’d fall madly in love with them.

And they fell for you too.

And you were terrified.

Unrealistic and idiotic thoughts swirled in your head. What if they stop liking me later? What if I actually read them wrong? What if I end up hurting them? What-

Your thoughts were cut short. You had started to spiral, and you’d already zoned out and didn’t notice the two move around you. But now you were all on the couch, you were straddling Bakugou’s lap, face in his chest, and Kirishima was behind you, his arms hooked around both you and the blonde. What snapped you from your thoughts wasn’t the movement, but the lips that took purchase on either side of your neck.

The two men were peppering soft, gentle, comforting kisses along your neck and shoulders. Bakugou’s voice rumbled in your left ear, “It’s okay, princess. We’d never hurt you,” Kirishima’s voice in your right, “It’ll be okay little pebble, we can keep you safe.” You melted in their arms, and the fear you felt began to ebb away with each touch from the males. They made you feel so safe. Secure. Loved. You really could let your walls fall around them. They’d take your broken and abandoned brick house and build it into a castle. And for the first time in a long time, you let people in.

You nodded against Bakugou’s chest, beginning to tear up at the thought of finally getting close to someone and knowing you wouldn’t regret it. “I...I like you too. Both of you.” Suddenly their movements stopped. Bakugou sat up and looked at you, and Kirishima leaned around to look at you, both of them wide-eyed and frozen, like deer in headlights. “Are you serious little pebble? You really like us?” You nodded quickly at the redhead, who beamed with a wide smile, and Bakugou just dove back into your neck, placing quick pecks on every inch of skin he could find. You giggled at the sensation. “Bakugou it tickles!” He froze, and slowly rose from your neck with a devious and mischievous smirk on his lips. Your eyes grew wide, “Don’t even think about it!” Too late. Kirishima jumped backward and pulled you down on the couch, pinning your arms next to your head, your legs trapped under your thighs so you couldn’t kick.

Bakugou immediately attacked your belly with his fingers, making you squeal and squirm. After relentless torture, he paused his attack, and you breathed a little bit, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you struggled to get oxygen back into your lungs. The peace didn’t last, though. Bakugou pulled up your shirt, exposing your belly, leaned down, and blew raspberries into your stomach, making you erupt in giggles and squeals all over again.

When you finally had enough and desperately needed to breathe, you materialized your wallet above Bakugou’s head and it dropped, making him jump and freeze. In between giggles you said, “That was me. I need to breathe. Give me a minute.” The two ceased their attack and let you go so you could get comfortable and breathe. Bakugou kept looking at you in confusion, and Kirishima asked the question that was probably on his mind. “How’d you drop your wallet on his head? Your hands were pinned! I had them pinned!” You giggled a little, realizing that they thought you could only materialize things into your hands. “I can materialize anything that I store anywhere I look. It doesn’t need to be in my hand,” you say with a small smile.

“But at the bar, you had your hand out.” Kirishima pointed out. “Yes, I did. Just to get your attention in the right place. Cause who would notice another set of keys suddenly appearing in the middle of the table if nobody was looking?” Kirishima nodded at your explanation. Then his eyes went wide, “So can you look at something and store it?” Again, you giggled, but this time it was from his slightly surprised, slightly excited expression.

You turned your head to the coffee table, two pairs of red eyes following your gaze. A coaster vanished from the table, and you looked above Bakugou’s head. Again their eyes followed, but as Bakugou looked up, it materialized and sat flat on his forehead. Before he could react, it vanished again, and appeared in your hand, before vanishing again and reappearing back on the coffee table.

“I try to keep from using it too much, because if it ever becomes useful in battle I’d like to keep it from being figured out. That, and I used to get accused a lot for stealing, so I just kinda stopped using it like that.” Kirishima had the biggest grin on his face. “That’s so freaking cool! Right Bakugou?” The blonde only shrugged with a small ‘eh’. Which, you learned, meant he agreed. After a couple minutes of talking about how you could use your quirk, you leaned back on the couch, took a deep breath, and glanced at the clock. It was currently 2am. That was fine, though, since you were all off and you could sleep in.

As you closed your eyes and relaxed, a nice silence filled the air. Though that silence was soon filled by the sound of fabric shifting and the couch dipping. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know that the two were now sitting much closer to you. You could feel their body heat at your sides. So it didn’t scare you and you didn’t jump when you felt two large hands come down on each of your thighs. It did, however, surprise you when you felt their weight shift again and felt their mouths on the sides of your neck again, this time their tongues lapping at your skin.

It made you gasp as your eyes shot open, your body reacting instantly to the feeling. Your chest heaved as they sucked marks onto your neck, your legs squeezing together involuntarily. The two pulled away from you, their pupils blown wide with lust taking in your pleasured expression. You were thankful to whatever deity was looking out for you, because you knew exactly what they wanted, and you wanted it just as bad. You had rid yourself of your clothing so fast the two men were confused for a second before they realized you’d used your quirk.

Without another second, you’d taken off both their shirts and jeans and dropped them in the corner of the room with your quirk, and this time they just raked their eyes down your body, taking in every bit of exposed skin. It didn’t take long for them to reposition. Now you were straddling Kirishima, and Bakugou was behind you, returning to the task of leaving marks on your body. Bakugou was moving down your back, sucking bruises down your spine and Kirishima was nipping at the plush skin on your chest, just under your collarbone.

Soon you were a whimpering mess, gasping and mewling with every kiss they placed against your skin. When Kirishima got more intense with the bites, you only got louder, and he took notice. He latched his mouth onto your shoulder and bit down, slowly increasing the pressure, making you let out a soft moan. His eyes widened a little when you told him to bite harder. He obliged and bit down, just barely breaking the skin on your shoulder, and you moaned out loud. Bakugou stopped behind you and came up to whisper in your ear.

“You like biting princess?” he growled and nipped the shell of your ear. You nodded, desperate to feel the pain again. You brought your hand up and tapped the junction between your neck and shoulder, right at the top of your back where you could feel a muscle twitch. “Right here. Please,” you whined, knowing that was the most sensitive spot on your neck. Kirishima leaned over and licked where you tapped, “Here pebble?” You nodded furiously, and before you could open your mouth to beg again, his sharp teeth sank into your neck. You nearly screamed out a moan, your voice mixed with pain and pleasure as you felt drops of blood glide down your back.

As quickly as he was there, Kirishima let go and licked at the wound he’d inflicted, soothing it gently. You didn’t notice Bakugou’s absence until he came back and wiped the blood away with a damp cloth and kissed the skin around the bite. You were delirious with pleasure, just from that one bite, and you could feel your arousal soaking your panties. Bakugou took no time at all to make that discovery, trailing his thick fingers over your clothed pussy. “Fuck, Ei, she’s soaked. So wet for us already little princess.”

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening as you were carried to a bed. You didn’t register whose bed, but that didn’t really matter. You were put down on your back, two undeniably stunning men looking at you like you were the last meal on the planet. You were so out of it you didn’t quite realize they’d already stripped you of your bra and panties, and Bakugou was flat on his stomach, blowing hot breaths onto your exposed folds. The sensation made you jolt, and you whined wanting more. Kirishima kneaded your breasts, pulling a pert nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it before releasing it with a ‘pop’ and moving to repeat with the other, occasionally moving to your collarbone and leaving bites along your shoulders.

Bakugou lapped at your entrance, groaning from your sweet taste. He slipped the pink muscle into you, making you squirm at the feeling as he moved it around. He moved up, placing kitten licks over your clit as he slipped a thick finger into your heated core. You let out a soft moan as he slipped a second finger into you, curling them up to strike at the spongy spot inside you. It made you gasp sharply, and he smirked, knowing he’d just found what he was looking for.

He moved his fingers faster inside you, plunging them deeper and curling them up harder and faster, making you clench around him. A coil built up in your belly, tightening the more Bakugou moved his fingers. “I can feel you gripping me, princess. Cum for me,” he said, and attached his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle. That was all you needed for that coil to snap, and your back arched off the bed, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Bakugou kept his ministrations, letting you ride out your high. Once you were panting back down on the bed, the two shifted positions once again. Bakugou behind you, holding you up against his solid chest, and Kirishima in front of you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up his cock with your entrance. You didn’t even know when they’d gotten naked themselves. But as you got a good look at his cock, your eyes widened and your breath hitched. He was huge. Thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath from the base all the way up to his head, already dripping precum.

“Like what you see pebble? Don’t worry I’ll go slow, I know I’m not small. You ready?” he asked gently, and you nodded. He slid into you, hissing at how your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight,” he said as he slowly sheathed his cock, inching his way all the way inside you. You were mewling and moaning, loving the way he’s stretching you, your hands reaching up and looping around Bakugou’s neck behind you to keep you anchored. When Kirishima finally bottomed out, you were both panting hard, and he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You’re doing so well baby. I’m gonna start moving okay?” You nodded, unable to form coherent words.

As he pulled out, you let out a high pitched moan, and he began to pump in and out of your dripping pussy. It felt amazing, but you desperately needed more. “Ki-Kiri- please, I n-need -- hah~” “It’s Eijiro, baby. Call me Eijiro,” he smiled softly before setting a brutal pace, making you moan out his name. A familiar coil tugged inside you, and you wanted so bad to be sent over the edge. Sensing your need, Bakugou traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, sucking and licking at his fingers. He pulls them out and reaches down to rub tight, precise circles on your clit. The tension in your belly snaps and you’re falling apart on Eijiro’s cock, mewling out his name while he keeps slamming into you.

As you’re coming down from your second orgasm, he slows and stills inside you, and pulls you off Bakugou into his chest. You feel the bed dip as the blonde repositions behind you. You turn your head to watch as he brings his fingers into his mouth, lubricating them with his saliva, and reaches down to prod at your puckered hole. His gruff voice reaches your ear in a whisper, “Relax for me princess.” He pushes one thick finger past the tight ring of muscle, and you mewl at the weird feeling, and as he pushes another in, you’re hissing at the sting.

He’s scissoring and curling his fingers in your ass, stretching you out to prepare you for his own cock. It takes a minute for the sting to subside. When he feels you relax, he spits on his cock and strokes with his other hand, making sure to slick his entire length. He removes his fingers and pushes the head of his cock into you, and you let out a whine from both the pain and the need for him to fill you up. Slowly, he’s sinking further into you with shallow thrusts, inching his way in until he bottoms out inside you. Eijiro moves inside you again and you’re gasping and clawing at his back.

As Eijiro slides his cock back into your pussy, Bakugou pulls out, and they’re moving back and forth in sync at a steady pace. You throw your head back against the blonde’s shoulder and let your moans and mewls slip out of you incoherently. “KATSUKI!!” you scream out when he suddenly snaps his hips up, slamming his cock into you. Eijiro follows suit, and the two set a bruising pace, rutting their hips up into you. You don’t even notice the pressure building in your abdomen until you’re spraying clear liquid over both of them, your body shaking from your third orgasm and overstimulation, and their hips begin to sputter, their pace becoming more erratic.

Eijiro is grunting into your ear, “I need to cum baby, where do you want me?”. You lace your fingers into each man’s hair, pulling them so you’re sure both can hear you. “Fill me up, fill me with your cum! Please fill me up!” At that, both men clamp their teeth down on your shoulders, pounding into you, and you’re screaming their names as they pump you full, painting your insides white.

All three of you are panting hard, trying to catch your breaths. Their cocks are still inside you, softening slowly, their seed dripping out of your holes. Katsuki is the first to move. He grabs the wet cloth from earlier as Eijiro puts you down on the bed. The blonde begins to clean your aching body, wiping down your legs and shoulders, cleaning off the cum and any blood that spilled from the bites they gave you. Katsuki finishes, tossing the cloth to the corner of the room, and Eijiro returns with a glass of water. He pulls you up to sit and sip from the glass as he holds it up to your mouth.

They take sips of the water themselves, and Katsuki leaves the room. Eijiro pulls you and tells you to sit up, and he lays down on his stomach next to you, laying his head on your lap. The position gives you a good look at his back, and your eyes widened at the sight. His upper back was marred with welts, little droplets of blood just barely seeping out, and you realized you did that, though you didn’t think you’d been scratching him all that hard. Soon Katsuki came back and cleaned up Eijiro’s back and spread ointment on both his scratches and your bites.

Once he was done, he put the ointment on the bedside table and the three of you curled up in bed with you squished between them once again. Your eyelids feel heavy, and as you feel sleep tugging at your mind, you let out a small chuckle, “If I can’t walk when I wake up, I’m gonna kill both of you,” and you drift into a deep sleep.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou bnha #kiribaku x reader

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min-sugar-7 · 3 years

Text

DAY 1: “You’re such an idiot.”“But you love me”

Camelot was peaceful. The skies were blue with plenty of clouds for shade, creating the perfect picture of peace. Rivers flowed plenty, harvests prospered. Gaius’s chambers were relatively empty, other than the occasional births.

The Knights invited Merlin along on their tavern conquests because there weren’t any attacks and training was pretty laid back.

Arthur had not insulted him for two days. He had not told him to muck out the stables. Nor had he thrown anything at him.

Merlin narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Something was wrong. Either that or something was about to go horribly pear-shaped. Maybe Arthur was under another enchantment.

Now that was a matter of grave concern. Merlin narrowed his eyes further.

“You look like you’re trying to burn that squire with your glare, Merlin,” said a voice. The owner of said voice snatched the water skin from his hands. Merlin looked, and yes, he was accidentally glaring at a poor squire. “How has he offended you?”

“Nothing, my lord. Just thinking ‘bout you,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur raised an eyebrow, tossing the water skin back to him.

“Think of me often?” Arthur smirked, and Merlin just wanted to swat him.

“Yeah,” Merlin rolled his eyes and grinned. “Thinking of ways to poison you so that training would end faster.”

Merlin stole a glance at his waterskin, making Arthur freeze. “You wouldn’t.”

Merlin shrugged and looked away, enjoying the unsettling peace of Camelot. Arthur huffed, and Merlin could practically hear his eye roll. Anytime now, Arthur would drag Merlin down the training field and use him as a training dummy. He will.

“Well, I guess I’d just have to accept my fate,” Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh. He would start whacking Merlin with a metal stick anytime about now. "Try not to poison any other Knights. Morgana would have your head if anything happened to Leon.”

With that, Arthur walked away. Merlin stared at him with disbelief. Arthur was being nice. And genuinely funny. Arthur is neither nice nor funny. Arthur is a mean bully who likes to torment Merlin.

There could only be one explanation.

Merlin’s Arthur has been kidnapped, and this one is a doppelgänger.

Apparently, no one else in Camelot shared Merlin’s suspicions. It turns out that Arthur is “Perfectly fine, and in good health,” according to Gaius. “Strong as ever,” according to Leon. “Still a princess,” according to Gwaine. “As he always is,” according to Gwen. “Still a perfect assassination target,” according to Morgana.

On top of that, Arthur’s been listening to whatever Merlin says. Merlin’s Arthur never listens to him. Never.

When he told Arthur not to step into the fairy circle, he listened. Usually, Arthur would say, “don’t be ridiculous, Merlin,” and step into a fairy circle. Merlin had to push Arthur away to avoid conflicts. When he told Arthur to cancel a hunt because it was about to rain, he did. Usually, Arthur would roll his eyes and go hunting anyway, shivering and freezing under the cold downpour.

There could only be one other explanation.

Arthur knows about his magic and is leading Merlin into a false sense of security.

Merlin refrained from using any type of magic in the past two days. He will not risk it.

And then Merlin’s worst nightmare came true. Arthur told him to pack his bags and wait by the stables. Arthur was going to banish him for his magic. At least he had some time to say goodbye to Gaius, who did not share Merlin’s concerns.

“Gaius, he’s going to banish me! Could you stop laughing?”

No such luck. Gaius continued chuckling, murmuring something under his breath, before pushing Merlin out of his chambers.

Merlin gulped nervously, taking small, slow steps to delay the inevitable. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow him. At least his ghost could continue protecting Arthur.

Soon, though, he was standing in front of the stables, watching Arthur whisper to his favorite horse. He had his back turned and provided his undivided attention to Llamrei. He looked absolutely stupid whispering and smiling and running his hand through her mane. Merlin loved him.

Okay, well, perhaps, not too much since he’s about to banish Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t look like he is about to exile somebody. He usually has a brooding air around him and refuses to smile for hours.

Arthur turned back, letting out an undignified squeak as he saw Merlin. Merlin would never let it go. He will lord it over Arthur for the rest of his life. Or at least, the rest of the time Merlin’s allowed to stay in Camelot.

“Merlin,” Arthur nodded, clearing his throat.

“Arthur,” Merlin responded, not knowing what else to say.

“Yes, um, let’s go,” Arthur declared and promptly led Llamrei out of the stables.

Merlin stared in confusion. Arthur, as if sensing his confusion, rolled his eyes, and grabbed Merlin’s pack from him, saddling it to Merlin’s favorite horse, Clove.

“What do you have in here? Rocks?” Arthur asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he mounted his horse, staring expectantly at Merlin to do the same. Merlin shot a glare at Arthur and mounted Clove. Of course, his bag was heavy. His everything’s in there.

What Merlin did not understand was why Arthur’s riding with him. For the whole trip, Arthur looked skittish, throwing glances back at Merlin. He noticed that Arthur’s hand occasionally drifted towards his left hip, where Excalibur and his coin pouch rested.

Oh. Oh.

Arthur was not going to banish Merlin. Arthur was going to kill Merlin and make it look like an accident. Oh shit, shit, shit.

Arthur suddenly raised an arm, stopping at a clearing. Merlin tried hard not to flinch. Arthur unmounted his horse and took out his pack, wait, why does Arthur have a bag?

Arthur caught him staring, and said, “What?”

Merlin, whose sanity was hanging on by its fingernails, immediately got off and started apologizing.

“Arthur, I am so sorry-”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Arthur said, turning back, giving Merlin his signature 'what-the-hell-Merlin' look.

That would be right about the time Merlin noticed the picnic blanket and basket in the middle of the clearing. Arthur followed Merlin’s gaze and immediately went red all over.

Merlin connected the dots; albeit a bit slowly. Arthur dragged Merlin away from the castle, told him to pack his bags, and brought him on a picnic. So Merlin was not about to be killed. Spectacular.

“We’re out on a picnic,” Merlin stated.

“Excellent observation, Merlin. Now it would be great if you’d come and sit with me.” Arthur stepped closer, presumably to grab Merlin’s pack. Merlin immediately grabbed it, to avoid further embarrassment. Oh God, if Arthur knew he packed all his belongings…

“Ehem. Yes. Of course. Let’s go.”

Merlin almost stumbled forward but made it to the picnic blanket relatively unharmed. Now, what was he supposed to do?

“Well, um, people would usually sit down at this point,” Arthur said, clearing his throat. Merlin nodded and collapsed down, wincing a bit when he hit the floor a bit too hard. Arthur was trying not to laugh.

“Not a word,” Merlin mumbled, which of course, made Arthur laugh. After that, things were a bit less awkward, as they shared some rather delicious pastries and talked about nonsense. Merlin made sure to keep his bag out of Arthur’s view.

“What do you keep in that bag anyway?” Of course, Arthur had to ask that.

“Nothing,” Merlin totally did not squeak. Arthur narrowed his eyes, looking straight through Merlin’s rather stupid lie. “Stuff.”

“It is a bit too heavy, don’t you think?” Arthur grabbed his bag, which Merlin yanked closer to his chest. Arthur just had to take that as a challenge, crowding closer to Merlin’s space.

Merlin tried his best, alright? But without magic, Arthur was faster, and he somehow ended straddling Merlin and holding the bag out of Merlin’s reach. Merlin huffed and collapsed back because there was no pacifying the prat when he’s up for a challenge.

Merlin covered his eyes with his forearm, deciding that if he can’t see Arthur, then Arthur can’t see him.

“Why the hell do you have all your clothes?”

If he can’t see Arthur, Arthur can’t see him. If he can’t see Arthur, Arthur can’t-

“Are you blushing, Merlin?” Arthur teased, and Merlin could practically see his smug grin.

“Shut up,” Merlin mumbled, suddenly turning them over so that he was on top and in possession of his bag. His victory didn’t last long, however, because Arthur immediately flipped them.

Oh no. Merlin will not think of how Arthur looked stunning with the sun shining in the back of his hair, creating a halo around him. He will not think about how Arthur’s eyes practically matched the sky. He will not-

Well, Merlin couldn’t think after that, because Arthur pressed his lips against his. Woah, hold on, how did that happen? Not that Merlin was complaining. It was rather brilliant. Arthur’s lips tasted sweet like the pastries they ate, and Merlin could spend hours like this.

There was only one drawback to this. Merlin’s magic soared under his skin, thrumming constantly as if enjoying the kiss just as much as Merlin did. He could hold on for a few more seconds, but he doesn’t want Arthur to know, but he doesn’t want to break the kiss either-

Arthur suddenly broke the kiss, prepping a few butterfly kisses and making a trail to his ear, nibbling on the skin there.

“Breathe, Merlin,” he whispered before going back to teasing his ear. It was then that Merlin realized that he was holding his breath along with his magic but couldn’t let go of either. Arthur then pulled back, stopping everything.

Merlin immediately missed it but could finally think without his magic going haywire. He still was too afraid to open his eyes, just in case his eyes decided to go gold. A hand came up to caress his cheek, sending tingles in its wake.

“Shh… Open them,” Arthur whispered, his voice suddenly close to his ear. There’s no way he could mean what Merlin thinks he means. No way. Merlin kept them glued shut. “I mean it.” The hand now traveled up to his cheekbones, tracing the outline of his eyes.

Merlin did, a bit slowly at first. It could all very well be an elaborate plan to get him to confess his true identity, but Merlin didn’t know how to fight it. He didn’t want to fight it.

Arthur took a sharp intake of breath, no doubt noticing the gold of his eyes. He didn’t do anything, just stared. Merlin held his breath again, too afraid to move.

A few moments passed, and Merlin feared he’d accidentally frozen time. But then Arthur rushed forward to capture his lips again, and all coherent thoughts left him. He was too startled to notice that he’d let go of his magic, instead, focusing on the feel of Arthur’s lips against his.

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur mumbled against his lips before diving back for another kiss. It took a few seconds for Merlin to understand. Wait Arthur knows about his magic. Arthur is kissing him. Merlin is still miraculously alive. Arthur’s tongue is swiping against his lips. Arthur hasn’t run Merlin through with his sword. Merlin’s tongue is in Arthur’s mouth. Arthur knows about his magic. Arthur isn’t killing him.

Merlin promptly broke the kiss, gasping against Arthur’s lips.

“Wait- you aren’t mad?” Merlin’s thoughts were a jumble of “Arthur knows, Arthur knows, Arthur knows-”

“Why would I be mad?” Arthur looked absolutely amazing with his cheeks flushed and lip red from kissing. From kissing him, his mind supplied. For a second, Merlin forgot what they were talking about, but then remembered.

“I’ve lied, and you think magic is evil-” Merlin searched Arthur's face for any signs of disgust, anger, or hatred but found none.

Arthur chuckled at that, turning his head away. “How could it be evil, when it does this?” Merlin followed Arthur’s gaze and saw exactly what he was talking about. The clearing that was formerly filled with grass now had little flowers surrounding the two. Merlin felt his cheeks heat up at that because the flowers were Carnations, and Merlin totally didn’t mean anything by it. Blame it all on Merlin’s magic.

Arthur placed one last final kiss at the corner of his mouth before plopping himself beside Merlin. Arthur curled himself around Merlin, sneaking a hand through his waist and pulling him close. Merlin went willingly.

“You never told me why your bag’s full of useless stuff,” Arthur said after some time. Merlin mourned the loss of peaceful, happy silence. He was hoping that he’d forgotten about that.

Merlin ducked his head so that Arthur couldn’t see his face. He cuddled up against Arthur’s chest, letting his heartbeat calm him a bit.

“I thought you were going to banish me or something,” Merlin mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I thought you were going to banish me,” Merlin repeated, this time really hoping that the ground would swallow him up.

There was a beat of silence before Arthur barked out, “What?”

“Well, um, you were being nice to me, and generally not being a prat for like two days and that’s not normal Arthur behavior,” Merlin quickly rushed to explain. “And then I thought that you found out about my magic and you’re trying to lead me into a false sense of security, and then you asked me to pack my bags and come to the stable so I thought that you were going to banish me.

“But then you tagged along, and I thought you were going to murder me or something out here, and then I saw the picnic blankets and got so confused.” Merlin should probably shut up now before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.

“That’s what you thought this date was about?” Arthur asked. Merlin could feel him shaking, his words vibrating through his chest.

“This was a date?” Merlin asked, in genuine surprise, because the kiss was a total spur-of-the-moment thing, right?

Arthur stayed silent for a second before bursting out in laughter. Merlin whipped his head up and saw, that yes, Arthur was completely amused. Merlin finally got a legitimate reason to swat his chest, which only made him laugh harder.

Fine, Merlin might be an over-thinker. But it is an acquired skill after staying in Camelot for so long. You have got to think outside the box if you wish to be on the same level as the countless assassins thirsting after Pendragon blood.

“Merlin, you are such an idiot,” Arthur howled, his laughter coming to a slow end. He stared at Merlin with such fondness that Merlin had to look away, so Arthur could not notice his blush.

“Shut up. You love me.” Woah, from where did that come? Dammit.

“Yeah, I do.” Was he hearing things now? Merlin whipped his head up for the second time, his eyes meeting an equally dumbstruck Arthur. No matter what Merlin did, he could not stop the onslaught of a stupid grin creeping over his face.

Merlin leaned forward for a peck, which dissolved into a kiss and then into a make-out session. When they parted, Merlin rested his forehead against Arthur’s, basking in the glow of pure, utter happiness.

Arthur shifted beneath him, making Merlin open his eyes. He opened his coin purse and pulled out a piece of red fabric, looking suspiciously like cashmere. Oh, so Arthur wasn’t trying to reach for his sword…

“Here, for you,” Arthur said and held it up for Merlin. Merlin touched it, and yes, it was a cashmere neckerchief. Merlin gaped a bit because cashmere is worth more than Merlin’s annual salary and then some.

“Arthur-”

“Just, take it-” Arthur reached behind to untie the knot of Merlin’s current neckerchief. He grabbed the soft fabric from Merlin and tied it around Merlin's neck. It felt like absolute heaven- he’s never worn something so soft “-Suits you.”

Merlin noticed the little blush that spread across Arthur’s nose and cheeks, and couldn’t help but smile. He was lying on top of Arthur, so it was easy to lean forward and press a kiss on Arthur’s nose. Arthur turned a darker shade of red.

“I love you too, dollophead,” Merlin mumbled against Arthur’s lips before diving in for another kiss. Merlin felt Arthur smile against his lips and had no problem returning one. They were honestly acting like a cheesy old married couple, but Merlin wouldn’t have it any other way.

#merthurweek2020 #day1 #prompt fill #fic #merthur #oblivious merlin #mutual pining #fluff #merlin's neckerchief #first dates #first kiss #arthur knows about merlin's magic #bbc merlin

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yoongi-sugaglider · 3 years

Text

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2825

Part 16===Part 17===Part18

Jungkook sprinted up the stairs two at a time as Rose helped me hobble my way behind him. The house above was a chaotic mess of screaming and pistols cocking by the time we’d made it to the first floor. Rose abandoned me at the stairs, sprinting off towards the kitchen to find Taehyung as I motioned Yoongi over.

“Jin and Jeanette are at the shed. Rose saw movement, so there’s no telling if more are back there.”

He nodded, face a mask of murderous intent as he sprinted for the back door. By the time I’d pulled my own weapon out Jimin was at my side, nervous sweat dripping from his forehead as he handed me an extra clip.

“Go. Jungkook, Namjoon, and Hobi are gonna need you out front. I’ll send Tae your way once he’s armed.” The doctor hesitated for a moment, giving me an anxious once over before nodding and sprinting off without a word.

I grunted, shifting as much of my weight as I could manage to my uninjured leg and hobbling for the front door when Taehyung and Rose rejoined me.

“Front gate Tae. Rose’s got me.” I muttered, wiping at the tears of pain now streaming down my cheeks.

He paused, pecking Rose gently on her cheek and giving my arm a quick squeeze before rushing out the door after Jimin.

Rose was white as a sheet as she gave me her arm to lean on. “Holy shit...what do we even do…” She wondered as we slowly walked out onto the front porch.

“The only thing we can do, make our way out to the driveway and watch for anything that might flank the boys. We have to have their backs. But with you being new to shooting that means I’ll have to do the work, you just make sure to keep me standing no matter what.”

She nodded, her eyes wild with fear as she helped me down the stairs and out to the driveway.

Already I could hear the shots in the distance, each one sending a pang of panic through my heart as I imagined them being the last one for any one of my boys. Pushing that fear down though I continued on, heart racing and mind focused as the men at the gates came into view.

The barrier that Namjoon and Yoongi had worked so hard to put in place had been somehow smashed to pieces and a pile of bodies was already growing from the boys taking down as many of the monsters as they possibly could.

“Right here’s fine Rose.” We were about 30 yards or so behind the boys. Close enough that I wouldn’t lose accuracy but far enough away that if we got overwhelmed, well….I’d have time to think about how much it would hurt before I died.

I began shooting, Rose bracing me with her body as I fired off round after round.

Two bodies came at Namjoon, a snarling mess of teeth and grabbing hands as he hastily reloaded his shotgun while struggling to stay on his feet and walk backwards at the same time.

I fired 2 shots, the first hitting one chatterer directly in the forehead and dropping it, though the second missed and buried itself in a tree further back. Namjoon finally managed to reload his weapon, a grimace to his face as he finished off the closest ravaging chatterer to him with two shots to the head.

I’d already moved on though, eyes seeking out Jungkook in the mass of bodies. He was holding his own, alternating between shots from his gun and large sweeping slashes from a machete identical to the one Hobi was using several paces behind him. I knew he’d be okay as I watched one head fall and roll away and another body drop a few seconds later.

I began firing again, picking off chatterers that forced their way through the gate while slowly allowing Rose to back me up a pace or two every few minutes. We weren’t exactly being overrun yet, but we weren’t gaining ground on the gate either. If we wanted this to end we’d have to find a way to shut it.

Jimin shouted, drawing my attention to where he’d been backed up into a tree. He had 4 bodies on him, two without arms though they kept lunging at him regardless. He fired where he could, tears streaming down his face as he screamed again when one got too close. I picked off two of them, the third having already dropped, leaving Jimin to fight one elderly lady by himself. He hesitated a moment, eyes wide as if in recognition of the woman, though when she went to bite at him again it seemed the moment hardened his resolve.

He fired a shot, gagging as the head exploded and showered him in viscera. But the deed was done and he moved on, providing back up despite his tears.

And then...things changed.

They came out of nowhere. Men and women in army fatigues and black tactical gear, weapons raised and firing at the monsters from all sides.

I’d have felt relieved at the sight in any other situation. But as the monsters were pushed away from the house and back towards the gate I quickly realized these were not Korean Army here to help us.

No. These were Americans.

As I watched them raise their weapons at my boys an entirely different set of fears washed over me. They knew who we were somehow. Had to. And it might just be that some of us weren’t getting out of this alive.

***

They’d rounded us up at the front of the house, the boys on their knees while Rose and I were held at gunpoint to keep them compliant.

“We’ve got two more back here!” A voice shouted from around the corner.

Two…

My eyes widened as I saw Jeanette and Yoongi forced at gunpoint to march towards us, Jeanette in tears and Yoongi being restrained by two large Americans and quite literally being dragged over to where the other boys were.

“Y/n..they...they shot Jin.” Jeanette sobbed when they shoved her into my arms.

My skin flushed cold, adrenaline coursing through my veins as shock hit me like a freight train.

Not Jin...Seokjin the jokester. Our favorite chef and the dad of our group.

Shot…

Gone...

I screamed, dropping to my knees and clinging to Jeanette as tears coursed down my cheeks.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!!” Jungkook howled, fighting against his restraints as he struggled to climb to his feet.

“Boss, please…” Jimin whimpered. They’d shoved him to the ground, one soldier having planted a steel toed boot in his spine to keep him down despite the handcuffs pinning his wrists to his back.

Tae and Namjoon had been cuffed together, the shorter man serving to pin Namjoon in place, out of convenience or just spite I hadn’t been sure. But each of them was screaming or crying in some way, while Yoongi continued to glare death in their direction.

Three soldiers appeared from the house, each carrying various weapons from our vault.

“Sarge, you’ll never believe what we found down in their basement.”

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, grief took hold, gripping me tight in it’s embrace as I sought out Jungkook’s gaze.

They’d invaded our home. Killed one of our own.

The next thing I knew shots were being fired again.

I ducked down, covering Jeanette’s body with my own as I sought out who could have possibly been firing.

There stood Hobi, face bright red with anger and mouth agape in a scream of rage.

“Hoseok no!” I screamed, but it was too late.

His body went flying, a series of shots having rung out from the soldiers behind me.

It was too much. All of it…

“Y/n!!”

I think...that was Jungkook.

I couldn’t tell.

It was going dark.

Strange...as it was the middle of the afternoon. And...I could no longer hear....anything.

I let go, allowing my body to relax. Sleep...sleep would be good right now….

***

The next thing I knew my world was filled with a roar of sound. My body tensed up, though a familiar set of eyes bore into mine when I finally managed to open them.

Jungkook sat across from me, pinned in place between two American soldiers just as I was. I glanced around, unsure of where we were until I glanced over to see clouds moving past at such a high speed that it took me a moment or two to realize we were no longer on the ground.

“The bitch is awake.” A voice muttered into my ears. They’d put headphones on me to cancel out some of the noise from the helicopter blades, how nice of them…

I grunted, shifting upright and taking in my surroundings. Including Jungkook there were several others on the seats surrounding me. Taehyung sat with Rose while Jeanette sat on his other side. The rest of the space was filled with soldiers, each carrying weapons and steel faced as they either glared at our crew or out the windows.

“Airstrip’s clear Sarge. Preparing to land.”

The soldier beside me nodded, reaching over to rip the headphones off my ears as the helicopter descended and landed with a massively jarring thump.

The sudden influx of noise from the blades left me stunned just long enough for the soldiers to shove me out of the doors and onto the tarmac without much struggle, though as soon as I spotted Jungkook I tried to run for him.

He shook his head and I sobbed when my arms were almost dislocated from my shoulders when one of the Americans jerked me back and away from him.

As the helicopter engine shut off my hearing slowly began returning to me and I began to pick out the sounds of yelling and movement that surrounded me.

A second helicopter had landed before ours and the rest of my crew were already lined up, each with at least three automatic rifles aimed at their heads.

As we moved away from the helicopters to join the others I glanced around, quickly realizing they’d taken us to the military base north west of Daegu. I’d only passed the place on a few occasions, a collection of buildings distinctly American in nature with the occasional military plane or helicopter taking off from the air strip for destinations unknown.

A thrill of relief passed through me as I did a quick head count, though the feeling was dampened slightly when I realized that...those of us who’d survived were all here.

“Get to moving.” The soldier I’d been sitting with growled as I turned to look at him.

I hesitated a moment, locking eyes with him and sending him the fiercest look of fury I could muster. The soldier shoved me forward with the barrel of his rifle, causing me to stumble over my shoelaces. Luckily, despite being handcuffed, Jungkook was able to catch me. The sudden pressure of landing against his forearms though had me gasping in pain as my still healing ribs shifted.

“Oi! She’s injured!” Jimin cried out, earning him a jab to the ribs with the same rifle that’d shoved me.

“Shut it tiny. I could give two shits less if she was the Pope or Jesus incarnate. When I say move I mean double time it. You hear?”

Jungkook and Yoongi growled almost in unison at the American’s words.

“I’m killing you first.” Yoongi muttered and I was forever grateful that I’d been the only one to hear him.

“Easy boys, I’m fine.” I straightened with a groan, nodding to each of them for them to keep moving.

As appreciative as I was for that protective nature, now was not the time for posturing.

***

They lead us to one of the smaller buildings, a sign with a ball and pins labeling it as the bowling alley. It’d been heavily reinforced from what I could tell of the barricades on the doors and the armed guards stationed outside.

The interior was dark, several lanterns giving off the only light I could see and lending it the gloomiest of atmospheres I’d encountered in a very long time. But seeing the lanterns let me know they were far worse off than we’d been. No generators.

We were split off at this point, Taehyung and Rose being led off in one direction while the rest of us were forced towards a set of steel double doors that when opened revealed a massive kitchen.

Huddled inside were several dozen people. Civilians from their dress and grouped up into what I could only guess were family units.

There weren’t very many children. Only 3 from what I could see, and their destitute and resigned faces broke my heart to see.

Making my way into the depths of the kitchen I picked a spot, glancing back to watch Jungkook sit directly across from me. Turning to face him I slid down to sit, leaning back against the cool steel of the oven door in the hopes of finding some sort of comfortable position to ease the throbbing in my chest.

I looked up to Jungkook, watching as his head hung low with his knees pulled up to his chest and his fists clenching and unclenching on the floor to either side of him.

He’d been quiet since before they’d taken Tae and Rose away. Silently stewing over our situation. I knew he was plotting, planning some way to get us out of this. But honestly with the amount of guns being pointed at us, there wasn’t a whole lot any of us was going to be able to do.

A sniffle sounded from my left and I glanced over, almost tearing up myself at the sight of Jeanette clinging desperately to Yoongi. He had that thousand yard stare. The one he got right before a mission where he sat and pictured every scenario that could or would go wrong should shit hit the fan. And yet even with that focused glare he still found it within himself to calmly stroke her hair, occasionally whispering reassuring words to her when her whimpers would turn to sobs and her grip on him would tighten.

Namjoon and Jimin sat just opposite them, each staring off into space as if struggling to find a way to cope with everything that’d just happened.

We sat around for several hours, not a soul in the room speaking as we waited to hear news on what they’d done with our friends.

Several soldiers walked in, talking amongst themselves as they stopped to stand before Jungkook.

“We’re never gonna get the woman to talk.” Grumbled one as he glared down at Jungkook who refused to even acknowledge their presence.

“What information are you even looking for?” I demanded, sitting up straighter and glaring at the soldier that’d spoken.

“You’re little hacker friend, Jangmi they call her. She’s got shit we need.” He sneered at me, the look causing my skin to crawl.

“But why do you even need this information?” I demanded angrily.

“Because even when the world’s gone to shit we still have a job to do. Take down the bad guys. And guess what the fuck you and your people are.” He stepped forward, shifting his shouldered weapon as he crouched down before me.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her.” Jungkook lunged forward, though several soldiers pinned him down immediately to keep him from going further.

“Four soldiers we lost trying to get these useless fuckers. Four good men with wives and children and mortgages. And for what?! A couple of gangsters and some tech smart bitch and her boy toy who can’t even talk??”

“Fuck sake Jenkins get ahold of yourself!” The man who I’d assumed was in charge before barked at the irate soldier that was still in my face.

“No! Fuck this!”

The next thing I knew he had his fist in my hair yanking me to my feet as I screamed out in pain.

Jungkook roared, straining against the four men that held him down as Yoongi and Jimin fought their captors as well trying to reach me.

“Look at them!” Jenkins sneered, pinning me to his chest and pressing his cheek to mine while he glared at my boys.

“This one’s their weakness. This one will get us answers. Maybe she doesn’t have them, but I can guarantee if we push just hard enough,” with that he squeezed his arms around me, shifting my still sore ribs in the process and causing me to scream out again with pain, “they’ll all start squealing. Just you watch me work Sarge. I’ll have all the info those Langley fucks want and you won’t even have to lift a dainty little finger.”

#bts #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #jungkook angst #bts jeon jungkook #bts gang au #bts zombie au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reactions #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts x reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bangtan boys imagine

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #yanderecore #yandere writing #yandere x you #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw claustrophobia

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axther · 3 years

Text

the devil’s train

bakugou x reader x oc: the devil’s train (yandere) in which Bakugou and Gil, the reader’s best friends, show that they care for her far more than as a friend. for @tspice283 tw blood, fighting, stalking, general yandere behaviour

YN LN led a very uneventful life.

She went to U.A. and had several close friends. She was told she had a bright future when it came to her hero career and was often described as friendly. She was relatively confident in herself and knew how to fight. But she wasn’t ready for this.

Before her were her two best friends; Bakugou Katsuki and Gil Keating. It was dark out, dark and cold in an unfamiliar place. They were growling and barking like dogs, clawing at each other with blood on their hands. YN was lost, horribly and terribly lost in her mind and on the pavement. There was blood everywhere, splattering against the wall and on the ground. They were drooling like madmen, disgusting, revolting, and making YN want to throw up.

Ah...but maybe she should go back to the beginning.

YN always walked to school with Gil.

It was something of a tradition. They were childhood friends, born in the same town and growing up with each other. Gil was tall, much taller than YN, with dark, green eyes that seemed to bear into YN’s very soul. His hair was white, snowy white, and YN wasn’t actually sure if it was natural. He was almost feminine, had it not been for his strong personality, it would’ve been easy to confuse him with a woman. He was a bit of a flirt to be honest, but YN didn’t mind. He was kind to her, and that was what mattered. Gil’s quirk was Stasis, temporarily stopping time. It was only for a few seconds at the moment, but he could do enough damage in sparring that even Aizawa recognised his efforts. To YN, he was pure fluff with a side of angst that she only ever saw when he fought others. On that day in particular, he was humming a song under his breath about some sort of strawberry snake, rocking on his heels while walking and being happier than usual. YN wasn’t sure why, but she certainly wasn’t going to question his good mood, considering he was usually quiet on their walks. “So!!” YN chirped, skipping a bit. “Do you wanna go somewhere after school, or something? It’s been a while since we’ve done something that’s just the two of us.” Gil lit up, a bigger smile gracing his face as he leaned down and wrapped an arm around YN. “Of course! We could go to the arcade, or maybe to the mall, or that new boba tea shop that opened up! Oh! Or we could do all three! I’ll pay,” He winked, strangely giddy. “That sounds great, actually!” YN looked up at him, then back to the sidewalk with a happy flush. “Aww, you’re blushing!” Gil nuzzled the top of YN’s head in an intimate gesture, chuckling. “That’s so cute!” “Shush,” YN pouted, smacking his arm softly in an effort to stop him from mussing her hair. “Fine, fine.” Gil pulled away, but kept his arm over her shoulder. YN didn’t think much of it, realising that they were quickly approaching the school. She saw Ochako and Tsuyu both walking towards the door, and she broke from Gil's arm to rush towards them. Behind her, Gil's smile plummeted as he watched her leave. His eyes seemed to flash for a second, a dark colour that would send shivers down anyone’s spine. It was like an unreigned desire inside him that slowly spilled out until YN turned back to him. It disappeared almost instantly, another smile coming upon his face. “Hm? Is something the matter?” “Nothing, nothing!” He waved a hand, still smiling brightly. YN hummed, shrugging her shoulders and walking through the doors with the other girls and leaving Gil to walk in by himself. His eyes darkened again, going blank and almost hollow as he shuffled along. YN didn’t notice how he became almost a shell behind her, chatting happily with Ochako and Tsuyu. Momo and Jirou soon caught up, talking about their weekend and filling the silence with pretty talk. “Hey, YN!” Ochako chirped, linking her elbow with YN’s and Momo’s. “We’ve got sparring again today! Who do you think you’re gonna be paired up with?” “Oh…” YN mused, placing her finger on her chin. “I’m not sure! Last week I had...Midoriya? So maybe I’ll get Bakugou this time.” At the mention of Bakugou, all the girls glanced over to see the blonde standing a few feet away. He was bright red and had just jumped like a spooked cat, hair spiking up and the flush on his face overtaking his neck and ears. YN tilted her head curiously, and the other girls laughed. “What was that about, Bakugou!?” Ochako yelled over her laughter, holding her stomach. Momo and YN were the only ones nice enough to hold back their laughter, but even then, it was strained. “Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou barked, going from cat to dog and back to cat again, slinking away past the corner of the hall. The giggling died down, before Momo raised an eyebrow. “What was that about, really?” She murmured, looking almost concerned. “That was really strange.” “Maybe he’s just having an off day,” Ochako shrugged, linking arms proudly with YN and smiling. “Or maybe he has a crush! Ha! Imagine the day!”

YN laughed too. But sometimes, foreshadowing is obvious. The day passed quickly and quite uneventfully, with clouds crawling over the sky and slowly darkening. There were several times where rumours of multi-class sparring being cancelled, but Aizawa dispelled them and often told them that as heroes, they would have to work in the rain anyway. But he took mercy on them, and decided to start sparring early so they didn’t get soaked. He chalked it up to he himself not wanting to get wet, but everyone knew that he just wanted to make sure they didn’t get sick. When everyone filed out, Gil made a beeline to YN’s side with a big, sheepish smile. “Hi~” He trailed out, winking playfully. “I missed you! 1-B is boring without my bestie.” “You flatter me,” She smiled, rolling her eyes but letting him recline on her. “It’s true! Tetsutetsu and all the others are cute and all, but you’re my number one.” “That’s cute.” “C’mon!! Don’t just brush me off!” “Alright.” Aizawa’s tone cut through their conversation, and for a second, Gil glowered at the teacher. Aizawa didn’t seem to notice, though, and let it go as he started listing pairs. Oddly enough, Bakugou wasn’t set with YN; instead, Tsuyu was saddled with him, and YN missed the way that Bakugou’s eyes trailed over her as he walked past. Aizawa instructed Gil and YN together, and Gil glanced down at her. “Ladies first.” YN walked past him, not replying but simply going into their designated row so they could spar, next to Bakugou and Tsuyu. Aizawa announced for them to begin, and slowly, the clouds gathered above them. YN assumed a more defensive stance after seeing Gil whale on his own classmates before, but strangely enough, he simply stood there with his hands in his pockets. “Dude,” YN hissed. “What are you doing? Hit me.” “Nah.” Gil took a hand out to check his nails, nonchalant. “What?!” YN was whispering, trying to not catch Aizawa’s attention, but felt confusion. “Why not?!” “Don’t wanna.” “That’s so stupid! C’mon! I can take it.” “I don’t want to hurt you.” “What?” YN lowered her fists, jaw dropping. “Are you serious? Why?” “Uh, it’s sort of self-explanatory.” “No, it’s not!” As they bickered quietly, neither of them noticed Bakugou losing his attention from sparring, and looking at the two of them. He wasn’t even fighting Tsuyu anymore, just watching them with a deathly blank stare. It was like she didn’t even know he was there. Bakugou was a confusing creature. He was incredibly contradictory, saying one thing but meaning another. He tended to keep to himself, but wanted nothing more than to have friends and be loved. Who didn’t? What human could live without love? Oh. And speaking of love, he loved her. He first met YN LN when he was in kindergarten. She was gentle and sweet, but strong and not scared to talk back. Despite the fact that quirks were so….segmenting at such a young age, she seemed to pay no attention to it. She didn’t talk to many unless they spoke to her first, or if she had to. She kept to herself, politely. That was the first time he noticed her, and he supposed that’s where it all started. The second time, he had just gotten admitted into U.A. He recognised YN almost immediately, which was strange, considering he hadn’t seen her in over ten years. But it was like she hadn’t truly changed, just grew up with a certain grace about her. She had matured, and she was beautiful. He started deteriorating, in a word. Everything he did was in hopes of her seeing him, really seeing him for who he was. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but who else would be worthy of her? He had to be the greatest to ever come close, so he crushed everyone in his way to get there. But then the fucking slimy, disgusting, filthy, destructive, sweaty, obscene, vile, vulgar, dirty man came along and dared sully YN’s lovely glow. Gil was, in many ways, like Bakugou. He aimed for the top, and stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. He was the one thing standing in his way for YN, and Bakugou would tolerate nothing in his way. He had come too far. He had done too much, watching YN walk home to keep her safe and taking her shirts from the line so he had some semblance of her in his room. Taking pictures so that way their kids can see her as she was, beautifully natural and unaware. Bakugou had boarded the devil’s train to love a long time ago. And he had no intention of getting off.

He had come so far. And here Gil was, refusing to fight YN. Out of what? Love?

Something in Bakugou snapped. He rushed over to Gil, picking him by the collar and growling at the precipice of all his pent up, bubbling rage. His hand already started cramping from holding on so tight, fingers going red. “You-! You, you, you, you-!” Words escaped Bakugou in his pure rage. Thunder started rumbling across the class as everyone slowly stopped sparring and started watching Bakugou threaten a very nonplussed Gil. “Me. Yes. What do you want?” Gil raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and letting Bakugou carry all of his weight. “You fucker! You know what you’re doing!” “Do I?” Gil smirked, and quite suddenly, Bakugou, really truly, realised that Gil knew what he was doing. He looked over to YN, who was in a mix of confusion and anger. Bakugou felt the colour draining out of his face, realising that YN must’ve thought that he was flying off the handle for no reason. But how would he explain that the love of his life was being manipulated by some smooth-talking bastard? “Go on,” Gil grinned wolfishly. “Get mad. I dare you.” “You…” Bakugou was panting when the first drop of rain hit him, trickling down the back of his neck and into his shirt. Several students looked up, eyes wide as the rain slowly started coming down. Gil and Bakugou were in a stalemate, hanging onto whatever thread of disguise they had about YN. “Bakugou.” Aizawa’s voice was quiet, stern in the growing storm. “Let go of him.” Bakugou dropped Gil, throwing him into the ground. Gil just kept his shit-eating grin, and Bakugou soon realised why; YN rushed towards him, immediately fussing over him and prodding at his collar. Jealousy flushed through Bakugou, but what could he do? He had created this. He created this monster that stood between him and YN. Between him and euphoria. Bakugou was pulled away by Aizawa, who kept a strong grip on him despite Bakugou’s lack of resistance. He kept giving Gil a deadly glare, and Gil stared right on back.

It was war.

Bakugou waited outside of 1-B once he got out of class.

Of course, he wasn’t sure if or when they would leave, but he knew that Gil was not going to just let the incident go. No, he knew that the evening was going to be a great equaliser. One man would walk away victorious, and the other would be left either licking his wounds, or dead. Bakugou was ready for whatever would happen, but to him, there was only one way the day was going to end; with him being the sole victor for YN’s heart. YN’s love. Bakugou sighed, a flush growing on his face at the thought of being YN’s boyfriend. He’d never let her go, of course, considering all he had done to get to the position he was in now. He would bite and spit and fight anything that got in his way. And the last obstacle was right in front of him. “Done with your little freakout, Kaachan?” Gil may have towered over Bakugou, but the smug look on his face made Bakugou’s gut crawl. “I’m gonna beat your fuckin’ face in.” Bakugou snarled, gritting his teeth. “And I know you wanna smash mine in. C’mon. We’ll settle this.” “As you wish~” Gil teased, walking two steps behind Bakugou as they left the school and began walking down the ever-darkening streets. The rain had cleared for the moment, but the forecast said it’d come back within the hour. How strange. A final showdown between enemies in the rain and darkness. It felt almost divine. Bakugou turned down a dark alleyway, not wanting anyone to see the bloodbath. The last thing he needed was pictures or rumours surfacing once he was a hero, once it mattered. “So.” Gil stopped at the very edge of the path, hands in his pockets. “How do you want to settle this? Like a brute by fighting?” “Like men.” Bakugou turned, jumpy at any movement Gil made. Gil scoffed. “Perhaps we could go our separate ways and whoever gets YN to love him wins.” “What? Scared?” Gil's eyes lowered in a glower, and Bakugou felt a shiver down his spine. The young man suddenly felt cold, calculating and not at all like YN’s childhood best friend. “No.” Gil never broke eye contact with Bakugou. “I know that in terms of quirks, yours is more violent and prone to harm than mine. But I could dodge you until you’re exhausted and run dry. It would be a constant back and forth that would achieve nothing.” “It might not. But at least you know your place.” Bakugou stuffed his hands in his pockets just like Gil, and it felt like a stalemate. “Are we gonna do this, or not?” “Fine.” Gil sighed, rolling his head back in a relenting manner. “Like dogs.” Bakugou pulled his hands out, his own nervous sweat already providing enough nitroglycerin to start the fight. Every cell in his body was on fire, elated at the fact that he could finally pummel Gil into a pulp and prove to YN that he was nothing but a manipulating bastard that wanted to sully her. “Finally-!” Bakugou growled, feeling as though he had already won as he rushed forward to strike Gil. “It’s over.” Before Bakugou could hit Gil, though, he disappeared, and Bakugou felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the feeling of someone behind him. A hand started reaching for the back of his neck, but Bakugou twisted around to swat at Gil's arm before he could attack. Gil disappeared again, and Bakugou realised that he was right; it would just be an endless back and forth before one of them got tired. But Bakugou was willing to take that risk. He had seen Gil's quirk in action before; it drained him quickly enough, given that they all sparred in ten-minute increments. Stasis was more of a technical quirk, and Bakugou could use that to his advantage.

He spun around, gritting his teeth and aiming for Gil's stupid face again and that shit-eating grin that haunted his dreams. There was another disappearance, another swing, and it was like a pendulum: where Bakugou swung, Gil would disappear. It was a dance, above all, and a lethal one. Bakugou saw Gil starting to wheeze, and spun his elbow back to sock him in the stomach. Gil barely dodged it, but not with his quirk, instead choosing to side-step, and Bakugou knew he had him on the ropes. It was a sweet victory on the tip of his tongue, and he was just about to make contact when-

“What the fuck is going on?”

Both men froze when they heard that oh-so-beautiful voice, shock seeping into everyone’s system. The two turned slowly, seeing YN with a look of angry shock on her face. She had a clear umbrella, and the two realised that it had started raining again during their fight. “Uh.” Gil cleared his throat, glancing to the side then back again. “Hello.” “Answer me.” YN’s voice was stern and cold. “What the absolute fuck is going on?” “Nothing.” Both of them answered at once, snapping their arms to their sides in a desperate attempt to seem normal. “Just sparring, babe, it’s noth-” “Babe?” Bakugou felt the shock absolutely drain out of him and rage take its place. “Babe?!” “Ita, I know you’re lyin-” “So?” Gil cut YN off, eyes flashing again. “Do you have a problem?” “Yes! I do!” Bakugou yapped, feeling his hair go on end again. “Are either of you listening-oh my fucking god!” Bakugou didn’t hesitate to absolutely launch his fist into Gil's face for the most satisfying punch of his life. Gil's nose caved in and blood immediately started coming out, pooling onto the pavement. Gil took a second to register that he was even hit before he retaliated, slapping Bakugou’s arm away and promptly socking him in the stomach. YN let out a surprised yelp, dropping her umbrella in shock and getting knocked over by Bakugou trying to dodge another one of Gil's hits. They were fighting, resorting to biting and frothing at the mouth like rabid animals. Bakugou hadn’t felt this level of pure anger ever in his life, and killing seemed like such an easy task against Gil. YN was the only thing that kept him going, his last motivation to even live or succeed. He felt that if he didn’t prove himself, if he didn’t make Gil stand down, then it was for nothing. It didn’t matter that YN was trying to pry them off of each other, swearing bitterly in her confusion, or that Gil was bleeding profusely. Bakugou didn’t care that his hands were covered in Gil’s blood and his own. Nothing mattered anymore but winning.

Bakugou had boarded the devil’s train of love. And he couldn’t get off.

#yandere x reader #yandere bakugou #tw yandere #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #oc x reader #tw blood #tw fighting #tw stalking #finally got this mf out #afab #afab reader #yandere oc x reader #oc is fodder

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sunfetti · 3 years

Note

hey if youre up to it could i get a scenario of cuddling with lemon yamabuki after a long day where both of them are tired? thank you in advance (and this is nenes-wifey btw, i love your writing sm!!!!!!!!!!! you do lemon so well!!!!!!!!)

Thunderstorms and feelings..

Word count: 700+

Summary: Y/n is childhood friends with Lemon, and they both have been secretly pining for each others. Even so, they refuse to admit to each other—but would a long day and storm be enough to make them confess?

AN: I FEEL SO HONORED TO WRITE FOR YOU! Hopefully it’s okay I threw in a bit of mutual pining and confessions and I hope I did your request justice (let me know if you’d like me to rewrite it) !! Also sorry if it’s cliche—I really tried to make it not too cliche

“Aw man, really?! Right now?” Y/n exclaimed, reaching out their hand only to feel droplets of rain hit their palm. Just a few minutes ago it had been relatively nice weather—enough to spend it outside studying. This week had been filled with nothing but assignment after assignment—not allowing the pair to even have the slightest bit of rest.

Today was the worst of it too, despite the nice weather—Y/n had to spend the entire day inside their classroom doing exams and turning in projects.

“We should get to your house, it looks like there will be thunder.” Their best friend, Lemon replied—looking up from his phone to look at the dark clouds starting to form in the sky.

Quickly, the pair grabbed the papers and textbooks they had out and ran towards Y/n’s house—which luckily wasn’t that far from the park they were studying at.

In fact, that park was the one they used to play in when they were little—also where they had first become friends. Having lived on the same street for years and having become best friends through constantly meeting up throughout the years—going from playing pretend before sharing secrets in the dark of the night.

Though the sweet, fuzzy memories of childhood were pushed away by the now pouring rain pelting the pair as they closed the door behind them—sprinting to lock the door and warm up.

“Damn, I might not be able to get home in this weather.. The trains might stop because of the weather..”

Lemon stated, glaring at the thunderstorm outside. The boy lived quite a bit away, having moved at the end of junior high much farther away. And unfortunately the storm didn’t seem to want to let up any time soon, meaning train schedules would be canceled for a bit..

“What a way to end such a dreary day..”

Y/n retorted, reflecting back on the load of assignments their teachers had decided to assign the pair over the weekend—that was the reason they had met up in the park, to try and complete most of the work today so they would have time to rest. Unfortunately though, it seemed as if they were stuck together with nothing but soggy textbooks and reference papers.

“Here, I’ll grab us some towels and make some tea—stay there okay Lemon?”

Y/n finally said, breaking the moment of silence between them. They sauntered off down the hallway, not noticing how Lemon buried his face in his hands—flustered and tired, his phone very much discarded.

Despite his best efforts, he had managed to fall in love with his best friend—years of pining and yet he couldn’t even admit to them that he liked them in that way. The way their eyes lit up while talking to him and how they managed to make him put down his phone, they just completely enraptured him and stole his breath away..

The thudding of his heart pounding against his ribcage fought with the tiredness that seeped into his bones.

“Being stressed and in love really sucks.”

Lemon muttered under his breath—picking up his phone and scrolling for a bit, before looking up when he felt a towel being plopped on his head. It was soft, and made the ends of his lips twinge into a smile.

“Here! Dry yourself off before you get a cold!”

Y/n exclaimed, removing his headband and continuing to fuss over him. His blond hair fell in parts, the spikiness it usually had falling flat as he allowed them to pat him dry.

It made the boy, start to laugh—little gasps in between soft laughter made Y/n’s face burn red and their stomach to do flips. Lemon never usually did laugh and when he did it made Y/n feel like they were on cloud nine.

“You’re acting like a parent at this point.”

Lemon joked dryly, leaning into Y/n’s touch as they gently dried his hair—scrolling through his phone. Them fussing over him was a staple of their friendship and only made the mutual crush grow more.

Not that they would admit it—as both were too far nervous to lose the other to even consider it, except for today..

“W-Well it’s my favorite thing to take care of you!”

Y/n exclaimed bashfully, before covering their mouth in shock of what they had said—they had slipped up finally with their tone and wording. Lemon was equally shocked, staring up at his friend with a flushed face. The mood that had been like what it had been so many times before had shifted, an airy silence falling between the duo.

“Do you really mean it?”

Lemon asked, placing down his precious phone once again—searching for something—anything to confirm that his feelings were mutual.. It was now or never for him..

And the simple nod he got in return was enough confirmation for him—tugging Y/n’s arm so that now they were chest to chest. Wrapping his arms around them, he laid down on the couch—tossing the towel on the couch somewhere.

“Let’s take a break for now. It’s been a long day.” Lemon mumbled, his hug and flushed face confirming what didn’t need to be said.. After all, actions speak louder than words right?..

“Yeah, let’s take a small break..” Y/n said, yawning as they buried their face in Lemon’s shoulder. A verbal confession wasn’t needed for the pair, they had fully realized it with the stolen kisses pressed against foreheads and hands entwining.. The sweet nothings weren’t absent though as they both poured their hearts out before eyelashes started to flutter and they fell asleep—curled up with each other..

Sure a long day of work and a storm sucked, but as long as you had each other it would be just fine..

#lemon yamabuki x reader #lemon yamabuki #jibaku shounen hanako kun #hanako kun #lemon yamabuki fanfic #request

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Different” (Rated G)

Summary: Sebastian tries to cheer up a melancholy Kurt, heartbroken by all of the changes the pandemic has brought about in their home rink. (1341 words)

Notes: I had plans of writing pandemic fics in all of my verses, so this is the start of that. This one-shot includes a callback at the end to 'Blessing the Ice in Westerville' so if you don't remember that one, you may want to go back and read it first ;)

Part 66 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

"Whatcha thinking?" Sebastian asks, plowing to a stop. He slides onto the bench beside Kurt and gives him the chastest peck in the universe behind his right ear.

Cockblocked by his mask, it's the best he can do.

Kurt misses his boyfriend's warm lips on his chill skin, but he smiles because there's something so sweet and dorky about it. Sebastian can tell he's smiling - the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling and the bridge of his nose scrunching.

But it doesn't make him look happy.

It's rare as hell to find Kurt sitting it out in the penalty boxes. He loves skating more than life. He needs to go, go, go - moves in the field, practice his routine, help a wall-walker find their way without their hands creeping along the boards. The entire time Sebastian has known Kurt, he's probably seen him sit for a grand total of fifteen minutes.

He's broken that record today.

"You know, almost every time you come to see me, you ask me what I'm thinking," Kurt says, stalling for a moment before he has to come clean. "Am I that much of an enigma?"

"Yes," Sebastian answers accompanied by an exaggerated nod of his head like a trained horse doing math. Kurt giggles. They've joked numerous times about how ridiculous everyone is going to look when they can finally eschew their masks with how vehemently they nod and emote with their eyes. It's going to look like living in an anime for a while until everything returns to normal.

Kurt sighs.

If it ever does return to normal.

Sebastian rests a hand on Kurt's knee and gives it a squeeze. "Come on, babe. I know there are some deep thinkery things going on in that head of yours. Let it out."

Kurt leans to the side and settles against Sebastian's body but his eyes never leave the ice. It's a relatively busy day at the Westerville Ice-plex, the rink filled to capacity. But because of restrictions, that means there are only twenty people on the ice, including him and Sebastian. On a Thursday afternoon, they would usually see closer to fifty kids and a handful of coaches, EZ skaters and Bobby seals zipping around treacherously like Mario cart vehicles. With the rink packed, the talking and laughter would drown out the music.

"Things are so different," Kurt says.

"I know," Sebastian agrees.

"We were lucky over quarantine. Me and you and Blaine had your rink to train in every day - rain or shine. Things didn't change for us all that much training-wise. But for everybody else, skating was impossible. It didn't even get cold enough this winter for my pond to freeze over so anyone who was relying on an ODR was SOL." Sebastian snorts and Kurt chuckles, the laugh they share more melancholy than amused. It fades quickly. "So many of our skaters had dreams of going to the Olympics. But they canceled Nationals, and then Worlds, and now... " Kurt's eyes trail the progress of a few freestyle skaters struggling with elements they had mastered six months ago. "It's heartbreaking to see them derailed."

Sebastian puts an arm around his boyfriend and hugs him. "Well, if you're looking for a silver lining," he starts in an iffy tone, "with the number of rinks that got shuttered over lockdown, Beiste is going to be up to her bushy eyebrows with business. This place is never going to close."

"And whereas that's good news for the Ice-plex, think of all the kids who have to give up skating because their rink closed down and they can't travel here."

"Yeah... uh... " Sebastian clears his throat "... I only thought about that after I said it."

"This pandemic changed everyone's forward momentum," Kurt continues, giving his boyfriend a pass. "We have pair skaters that have split up, Disney on Ice canceled auditions so that dream is busted for a few seniors, Blaine told me that the synchro and performance teams at his old rink are both no more... it's not fair."

"No, it's not fair."

"I just wish there was something we could do."

"I know." Sebastian sinks into his boyfriend, mourning the loss of Kurt's hair against his cheek with his mask keeping the two of them apart. He wants nothing more than to fix this for Kurt, bring things back to the way they were and put everyone back on track, but the only thing Sebastian is good at in the way of problem-solving skills is throwing money at things and, ironically, as rich as his family is, they don't have the kind of money necessary to solve this.

In cruel, corporate terms, the pros do not outweigh the financial risks.

It's not just that missing out on months of steady business dropped rinks into the red. A lot of them were poorly managed. Shutting their doors revealed problems these facilities didn't admit they had - rotting pipes, faulty wiring, cooling systems holding on only because of the ice and grime that had built up inside them. Once the condensers were shut off to conserve energy, whole units fell apart.

And, as it turns out, they cost an arm and a leg to repair, not to mention replace.

If the Westerville Ice-plex was in danger of closing, Sebastian would talk his uncle into handing over a blank check. Unfortunately, they can't do that for everyone.

"I think the best thing we can do is focus on here and now," Sebastian says. "What can we do inside these walls to make things better, even if it's just for the next half hour or so?"

"Do you have any suggestions?" Kurt asks. "Because, for the moment, I'm tapped."

"Well... " Sebastian starts, drawing the word out, hoping brilliance comes to him "... one of the reasons I spent so much time here even though I have a facility of my own was because of my friends. We used to horse around, make up routines, compete with one another, race each other down the ice..."

"Okay, but there are strict rules against horseplay now."

"I'm not talking about roughhousing. I mean the stuff we used to do with the kids in skate school to make it fun. Things that we can do while staying six feet apart. I mean, everyone here loves us... "

Kurt snickers. "Ah, humility. Thy name is Sebastian Smythe."

"I bet you if we get something started, everyone would join in."

"What do you have in mind?" Kurt asks, recalling the things they used to do with the kids when skate school was still running - blowing bubbles, tossing balls, playing Sharks and Swimmers (which is kind of like tag while fully accepting that, if someone falls, they could potentially spear another player in the leg with their blade).

Sebastian tilts his head, going through a similar list in his mind, trying to come up with an activity that would work with their current crowd. There are mainly regulars on the ice - the freestyle kids daring enough to court possible contamination for the chance to get their Axels back. He follows two girls with his eyes, mirroring one another as they make their way down the ice.

He gets an idea.

A hilarious idea.

"Are we expecting Blaine anytime soon?" he asks, shoving his hand in his jacket pocket and fishing around. Kurt looks around Sebastian's body, checking the time on the scoreboard.

"Yeah. Any minute now." Kurt's head snaps up. He peers suspiciously at his boyfriend's eager face. What plan could Sebastian have come up with that would include Blaine specifically? Is he going to tie him to a goal and have the kids take shots at him again? Thank God for foam pucks is all Kurt can say about that genius plan. "Why?"

Sebastian pulls his key tag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of Kurt's eyes. "Because I do believe it's time to bless the rains down in Africa again."

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe

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by-nina · 3 years

Text

For auld lang syne, my dear

@fmasecretsanta2020 AO3 | FFN Rating: K+ Genre: Fluff/Romance Word Count: 2,340

A/N: Surprise, @megthemighty! I hope you enjoy this as much as you do the holidays. 😊 Stay tuned, and stay safe always!

He hums a few notes that Riza recognizes straightaway. She doesn’t interrupt him, however; she pauses, entranced by the surprisingly gentle timbre of his singing voice. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. He continues with a slow tempo, gentle like the sway of candlelight, softer and softer until he reaches the resolution of the first chorus.

There is something pleasant and comforting about mornings in winter that always awakens Riza just before the sun rises. It’s quiet, as the Hawkeye house is on any given day, anyway. But towards the end of the year, with their little village covered in a blanket of snow and their distant neighbors kept at home by the cold, the quiet is better justified, more peace than solitude.

Her routine on these mornings is simple. It begins with tea—lavender, which was her mother’s favorite and a type that Riza hasn’t had anyone to share with since her mother’s passing. While the sky is still dark, she lights a small fire in the living room, then curls up close by to read a book by the warm light. There she stays until sunrise, when it feels a little less cold, and then she retreats to the window in her room to watch the sky change color.

Today, Riza wakes up a little differently. She is on the living room couch with her book facedown on her chest, her tea cold and unfinished, and the small fire in the hearth reduced to dim embers. The light coming from the window tells her that she has slept through sunrise. But most tellingly, there is a second cup just inches from hers on the center table, a new fixture of the past couple of mornings or so, and it’s enough to clear her head and remind her of how she ended up falling asleep there.

The door opens. In comes Roy Mustang with a chilly gust of wind.

“Hey,” says Riza. Roy responds with a slight nod as he brushes powdery snow out of his hair and off his coat. “How’d it go? What did they say at the train station?”

Roy shrugs. “Just my luck. They’ve cleared out most of the snowfall in Geob Pass, but there’s been some damage to the tracks. If the weather doesn’t improve, it could take weeks for the trains to start operating normally again.”

He attempts to act casual, but Riza has known Roy for three years and by now she knows the cracks in his façade. His voice is far too even and cool, his walk more a trudge. He doesn’t make his usual easy small talk as he walks around the couch where she is and around the center table, finally settling on the spot by the hearth where she usually does her reading. His focus is entirely on the embers as he ignites a new fire out of them.

A few days ago, Roy was bound for an early morning train to Central, where he had planned to spend the year-end holidays with his family. He always took the same trip back home on the same day each year since he first came to study under Berthold Hawkeye, and this was to be the last. Riza knew about his plans even though he couldn’t speak openly about them. She knew long before the time even came for him to leave, which was why she became concerned when he returned to the Hawkeye house an hour past his departure time. The Amestris Express, he said, had indefinitely cancelled all travel between Central and the East due to a severe blizzard at the border, which buried a long stretch of track under several meters of snow.

Since then, Roy has gone into town early each day, hoping for word on when the trains might begin running again. Each day, he returned disappointed. This then became part of Riza’s early morning routine, partly because it was inevitable to come across each other in the living room, and partly because she felt sorry for him. She has since accommodated him with the friendly gesture of sharing tea with him before he left each day.

Riza continues watching Roy from the couch. He rubs his hands together over the fire he’s just made, and the sight is enough for her to feel its warmth too. It begins somewhere in the pit of her stomach, turns into a stirring feeling throughout the rest of her and a pink tinge in her cheeks. Then, she hears it as a voice in her head. Earnest, hopeful. How nice it is that Roy has remained here, it says, because she—

“I’m sorry,” Riza blurts out over the little voice. “I’m sorry,” she repeats slowly, more sincerely this time. She takes a few deep breaths until the color disappears from her face. “I know how much you were looking forward to this.”

“Thank you.” Roy leans against the table, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Breathes out a short sigh. “I was supposed to spend more time with my family. Not just for the year-end holidays, but after the new year, too. I owe them that.”

Riza hums in understanding. There’s no need to talk about why, and there is no good thing that could come out of talking about it when her father is sure to wake up soon. They have better things to talk about, anyway, that could perhaps cheer Roy up.

“So, how do you spend the holidays at home?”

Roy turns to properly face her. He taps his fingers against the center table, deep in thought. “It’s a little manic,” he finally says with a laugh. “Too many people coming in and out of the bar, and they make a lot more trouble than usual during the holidays. The moment the bar opens in the evening, we hardly get any peace and quiet. But in the morning, when it’s just us, it’s special. My sisters like to exchange gifts over breakfast—trinkets, clothes, pocketbooks—it probably starts a couple of weeks before the end of the year.”

“Does the bar ever close over the holidays?”

“Only on the first day of the new year, so we could get some proper rest. Business doesn’t slow down until then, you see. We even host a party of sorts on New Year’s Eve. Anyone who wants to come just…”

He trails off. The smile on his face is both fond and wistful.

“It’s a little different around here,” Riza says after a moment’s silence. “Well—it hasn’t been the same since we lost Mother. But it’s a lot quieter, from what you said about Central—”

“Trust me, it always is.”

Riza laughs. “We really only celebrate on the last day of the year. That’s when we exchange gifts or get together with our families for a special meal. But you feel it before then—everyone’s a little friendlier and more charitable. It’s like it’s in the air. People prepare food for their neighbors, they keep hot chocolate ready in their kitchens for any time there’s a visitor or anyone who might be passing by.”

She sighs, then adds, “The only living relatives I know of are on Mother’s side, but she hadn’t talked to them in years. It’s just Father and I here during the holidays. But not for everyone else in this town—their relatives come over to spend the end of the year with them.”

“I see.” The fire in the hearth has grown, but Roy is leaning in the opposite direction from it now, closer to Riza. “In Central, it seems like everyone wants to get away whenever they can. I guess that’s where they come from, the people who choose to spend their holidays elsewhere.” He chuckles. “And then there’s me. I come back instead of leaving. Well, what can I say? Whatever everyone else is like, Central’s still home.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely.”

“Yeah, it is. We’ve got decorations all over the place, kids singing holiday carols…”

“Hey, we have those too!” Riza is smiling now, almost laughing. “I know it’s not that exciting out here, but you’ve been to town—you’ve seen the decorations. And the kids don’t go all the way to the outskirts, but they do go caroling.”

“And Central isn’t completely out of touch either,” Roy counters, grinning as if this were a competition to win. “There’s a traditional song you’ll hear around town for about a month—musicians perform it in the town square some nights, and then people sing it when the new year comes. Everyone knows it. It goes like this…”

Too close. She has come far too close to him.

Riza leans back and laughs—she hopes it comes off as amusement. “And here I thought you were just an alchemist.” Clearing her throat, she continues, “We play that song around here, too. In the plaza, on New Year’s Eve—everyone goes to welcome the new year there. But we don’t sing it.”

Roy turns up the corner of his mouth curiously. “What do you do, then?”

“We dance.”

On the last day of the year, at Cameron Station, Riza waits with Roy for a train that will take him home.

The last few days feel like little more than a dream.

Nothing much changed about the way she spent the holidays with Roy around. She began each morning before daybreak, with a cup of tea and a book like always. She spent most of each day keeping to herself, as did her father, who told Roy he had “nothing more to teach at the moment” and preferred the company of his books and journals; and as did Roy, who respected Berthold’s decision and instead devoted himself to perfecting the basic alchemy that he had already learned.

Only two things were different this time. The first was that Riza had someone to talk to, at least whenever she and Roy were together. This did happen rather often; there were quiet evenings in the kitchen after dinner, walks to town whenever one had to run an errand and the other reasoned that they needed fresh air, and mornings like the first few ones of Roy’s extended stay. On his part, Roy no longer began each day with a pointless trip to town and the disappointment of not hearing good news. He seemed to make peace with the fact that he would be missing much of the holidays with his family, especially after a phone call during which his aunt assured him that there was no trouble at all, so long as he did eventually come home.

The second thing that changed was something that Riza couldn’t easily name. It seems simplistic to say that she was glad for company, or that Roy’s presence was a mere antidote to boredom. Whatever it was, she could easily trace it to that one morning, in the color that filled her face, the contentment in listening to Roy sing.

She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach when they heard news of the Amestris Express running trains from the East to Central again, and she tries to ignore it now as she stands in the platform, counting the minutes until the train arrives and then—and then she would be alone again. No friend at the table for New Year’s Eve dinner, no companion for the celebrations in the plaza.

No Roy.

Cameron Station is packed with eager travelers whose trips had also been delayed by the poor weather. When the shrill train whistle fills the station, the crowd seems to move forward in a massive wave, a flurry of goodbyes and well-wishes and promises and plans for when they would meet again in the coming year. There are no such parting words between Riza and Roy. Neither can say when or if he will return at all, or if things will be the same if he does.

The traditional holiday song in the East, the same one he had hummed for her, is being played on a violin somewhere in the crowd. A street performer must have come specifically to send the travelers off. Curious choice of music, Riza thinks, but she cannot think of anything more apt. It is New Year’s Eve, after all. A time of farewell just as much as it is a time of new beginnings.

She turns, and she catches Roy staring at her cheek. He catches himself in the act a second too late.

“Well,” he says quickly, “thanks for seeing me off.”

Roy extends his hand to her. Riza hesitates before finally taking it. In the politest voice she can manage, she says, “You have a safe trip back, Mister Mustang.”

He blinks, then laughs a little. “Roy.”

“Roy.”

Their handshake is slow and steady. A moment passes, and then another, and even in the anticipation of missing him Riza soon realizes that their hands might have already been clasped together for too long. Then—

A twist of the hand, a swift twirl, a breathless pause.

Riza takes a moment to steady herself. Mouth agape, she stares at Roy as if to await an explanation, but it doesn’t come. He takes a slow, cordial bow before letting go of her hand, and their little dance comes to an end.

“Happy New Year, Riza.”

She doesn’t find the words in time, and Roy follows the last of the departing crowd into the train, where Riza sees no more of him. There is no final glance over his shoulder, no fleeting glimpse through the windows. The music fades into the indistinguishable, dissonant voices of the crowd.

No matter, Riza thinks with a fond smile. She has those past few days with him to keep throughout the year, if not until he gets back—if not for each new year to come.

#FMA Secret Santa #FMA Secret Santa 2020 #FMASecretSanta2020 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Royai #young Royai #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #fluff #writing #written by nina

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alitaimagines · 4 years

Text

“wipe your tears, the suns set now, won’t you go to sleep now? I’ll see you in your dreams. cause I’m right here, darling I’m here. close your pretty eyes, my butterfly, baby, have no fear.”

KIRISHIMA EJIROU / SHINSOU HITOSHI - MY HERO ACADEMIA

“vanilla ice cream is superior!” you and Kaminari had been arguing about ice cream for about fifteen minutes with Mina and Kirishima in the classroom, “dude, you can literally eat half a tub of it without gagging. with chocolate ice cream, you eat three bites and you’re already grossed out!”

before Mina or Kirishima could answer, you saw Momo walking in, “hey, Shinsou is looking for you,” you felt yourself rolling your eyes, “yeah, he’ll be fine. I’ll text him later,” you murmured before looking back at your friends, “anyway, vanilla is the far superior ice cream and the both of you can choke,” you continued.

Mina and Momo gave you a sympathetic look knowing your situation with Shinsou. Kaminari was too dumb to figure out the semi-awkward tension in the air as Kirishima tried figuring it out.

the air was too sour to continue the playful conversation as all of you grabbed your things. Kirishima looked down to see you texting rapidly on your phone and wanted to ask if you were okay.

“hey, is everything alright?” he asked. you gave the red headed boy a smile, “yeah, everything is fine. just some relationship problems,” you whispered as the two of you made your way to the dorms.

as soon as you muttered your answer, he connected the dots. Kirishima had heard the you and the girls talking about your situation here and there a few times during the week. he never felt to eavesdrop on the conversation but hearing what you were telling the girls and the way you were acting when Momo told you that he was looking for you, Kirishima understood.

the walk to the dorms was quiet as you remained texting. he could tell that you weren’t happy with what you were texting him about as your hands were shaking from anger.

“if you need anyone to talk too, I’ll be free for the rest of the night,” he murmured before giving you a hug. you returned it as he held onto you a bit longer, “thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kirishima nodded before he watched you leave.

you and Shinsou had been falling out of love and it wasn’t hard to tell for those who you knew your situation. with you already being in the hero department and Shinsou constantly training to try and get into the hero department, he was training day in and day out.

there would be times where you would try to hang out or schedule a date with him and he would completely ignore your messages or leave you hanging. at first you thought he was just training but as time continued, there would be days where you would just see him hanging with friends when he told you he was going to be working out.

finally, you arrived to your dorm room and instantly called Shinsou to try and calm him down. you had blown him off to hang with Kaminari and the rest of them which he soon got word of when he asked Midoriya where you were.

“Shinsou, if you’re here to argue, I don’t want to hear it,” his deep chuckle made you want to scream, “you keep texting and trying to call me so what? if you’re just calling me to yell, I’ll call you when you’re not upset.”

the line remained quiet for a moment when he finally spoke up.

“we need to talk about this, whether this is going to continue or not,” you hummed, “are we together or not? because we keep blowing each other off, we haven’t been together and actually hung out with each other in days, and frankly, I’m tired of it.”

you laughed, “you’re tired of it? imagine how I feel? I tried to continue what we had but you were the one who kept telling me you were training or too busy to go out on a date,” this time, Shinsou was the one who growled, “and you just blew me off to be with your three classmates!” he yelled.

“are you seriously saying that the ONE time I blew you off to be with some of my friends that it’s the reason why we’re no longer working out? have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you’re the reason,” Shinsou was about to cut you off before you continued, “I saw you hanging with your classmates when I tried to schedule our dates and you said that you were going to be busy working out during that time. you cancelled your own birthday dinner with me to train! but yeah, I’m the reason why we didn’t work out.”

“you’ve known I’ve been trying to get into the hero department. you wouldn’t know now that considering you got in so easily! you didn’t even have to try!”

your eyes widened at the blasphemy.

“are you serious?” you screamed, “ you’re saying that I got in easily? I worked every fucking day to get into U.A. and instead of blaming others for your failure, maybe you should learn to take accountability and realize that it was your own fault for not getting accepted! and let this be known that this will be the last conversation we have.”

the two of you hung up the phone at the same time as you cried into your pillow from anger. at this point, you weren’t crying from sadness, the sadness of falling out of love was no longer there. these were tears of anger.

before you could even try to shut off the light and blare music to drown out your sobs from the rest of the class, you heard a known on your door. you dragged yourself to the door and opened it.

“hey-, are you alright?” Kirishima asked as he seen your bloodshot eyes, “I’m being serious, are you okay?”

you wanted to respond but the sobs caused you to choke out another round of tears as Kirishima brought you in for a hug. you clutched his white buttoned-up shirt while he embraced you.

“why are men such dicks?” you asked through tears, “Shinsou really sat on the phone and devalued my quirk. he said that I got into the hero course without trying.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, “you know that’s not true. you worked hard just like everyone else to get here,” he whispered into your ear, “don’t listen to what he said. you’re quirk is solid, you deserve to be in 1.A. and don’t ever think that you don’t deserve to be here.”

you remained in his embrace for a bit longer before finally releasing yourself. Kirishima felt his heart break for you. he had never gone through a break up before and while he knew that you weren’t exactly in love with Shinsou anymore, the thought of it all probably was upsetting you the most.

“and it’s not like I’m sad about us breaking up. yeah I’m sad in a sense but I’m more upset that he really thinks that I didn’t deserve to be here.”

Kirishima shook his head understandingly, “well, if you’re up for it, we can go to the common room and watch whatever you like. I bought a tub of ice cream and although I know you hate chocolate, it should lift your spirits up, at least a little bit,” he offered.

you nodded as you went back into your room to grab a blanket to cuddle with for the remainder of the evening. Kirishima followed behind you as your slumped shoulders showed your entire mood.

“I’ll grab the ice cream while you pick something to watch?” he asked. you went to the couch and immediately snatched the remote from the table before pulling up Hulu.

Kirishima had turned the air conditioning up a bit knowing you loved the cold air. it gave you a chance to cuddle up against the blanket you were holding.

“so, what did you pick?” he asked as he soon seen one of his favorite movies also come up, “you like this movie too?” he asked bit excitedly. you nodded as your mood brightened up a bit.

throughout the movie, giggles escaped from you and Kirishima but during the last half of the movie, you had fallen asleep against the arm of the couch. you weren’t even sleepy but the crying must have tired you out, Kirishima thought.

he gave your sleeping body a half smile as he covered you up with your blanket and moved a piece of hair out of your face.

“oh my god,” Mina and Momo whispered to each other, “he likes her! that’s adorable,” Mina squealed quietly.

the two of them were going to check up on you but seeing how Kirishima was acting around you, they decided to retract and go back up to their bedrooms seeing as you were fine.

Kirishima couldn’t help but place a kiss on your forehead. it wasn’t a secret to him. he had developed feelings for you after the first few weeks of classes but when he found out that you were dating Shinsou, he knew it wasn’t his place to confess to you.

now that you were single and not as infatuated with Shinsou anymore, maybe he would get his chance after all. he hated seeing you so upset over some nobody and this wasn’t a knock on Shinsou as a possible hero. he was a nobody in every other sense.

you woke up that following morning to be cuddled up against a blanket and one of the couch pillows. you had heard the alarm that signaled everyone to get up from the PA system go off.

your phone was plugged into one of the spare chargers on the wall. you knew it was Kirishima who must’ve plugged it in before he left to his bedroom.

the dorms were relatively safe so you made your way upstairs to get ready for class and left your phone on the charger as you got ready. you quickly pulled on the uniform and fixed your hair to look at least a bit presentable before heading back downstairs.

“morning!” you heard Kirishima’s bubbly voice say. you gave him a wave as he brought over a cup of coffee to you, “I made you some coffee. I don’t know how you like it so I went with the way I make it,” you smiled as you went up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“you’re the best Kiri,” you murmured before taking another sip, “it’s actually really good but on another note, we should head to class. I don’t want to be late even though we don’t start for another half hour.”

you and Kirishima slowly walked to homeroom and were unimaginably early. usually Iida would be there but as of right now, it was just the two of you.

“do you want to go and drop our backpacks off? you know Aizawa gets when we have our backpacks inside,” Kirishima laughed before following you to the locker bay, “I’m gonna run to bathroom and retie my hair if you want to give me a few minutes.”

Kirishima nodded as he leaned against your locker to wait. he couldn’t help but notice that very vibrant purple hair standing close to the lockers. his eyebrows fluttered in confusion, not understanding why Shinsou would be near the 1.A. classrooms considering you weren’t together anymore.

you walked out of the bathroom and Kirisihima immediately walked up to you.

“lets head back to the classroom?” he asked a bit quickly, “yeah, sure. our coffee is going to get cold,” you responded as the two of you walked away from the locker bay.

Kirishima turned around to give Shinsou a look with a small smirk playing on his face. Kirishima wasn’t a petty guy, it wasn’t very manly of him to act as such, but this time, he couldn’t help but taunt Shinsou a bit.

about a month and a half passed when you finally opened yourself back up to dating. you weren’t actively chasing a relationship but Kirishima was more than happy to take Shinsou’s place.

he had been there for you throughout the entire break up and when you finally mentioned that you wanted to start dating again, he more than took you up on that offer.

it wasn’t too bad on your end either. you liked Kirishima. he was cute, adorably awkward, and not mention, funny.

the two of you had been friends for months now so it didn’t take long for Kirishima to formally ask you out. there wasn’t much of a point to drag out the unofficial dating part for too long. he figured since the two of you were friends prior to him asking you out, actually dating each other wouldn’t be too much of a difference.

“hey babe!” you heard Kirishima say as he walked up to you in the morning, “hey!” you whispered before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“sorry I couldn’t walk with you to school this morning. Bakubro kept me training until late last night,” you heard Bakugou scoff as you flicked him off, “it’s fine but we should catch breakfast before the lines get too long!” you told him.

Kirishima intertwined your hand with his before swinging it. you laughed at his dramatic swinging as you, Bakugou, and Kirishima got into talking. more like Bakugou and Kirishima and you only intervened when you wanted back Kirishima up.

“tch, that purple haired idiot is staring holes at you,” Bakugou told Kirishima as he instantly looked back to Shinsou, “he can deal with his issues on his own,” he replied before looking down at the food options.

you were oblivious to the entire thing as you were too busy looking at your breakfast being made. Kirishima knew that ever since he asked you out, you didn’t even bother to look at 1-C’s direction but the way that Shinsou stared at you, he felt uneasy.

“hey babe?” he asked as you gave him a look, “what?” you asked a bit annoyed that he disturbed you from watching your breakfast being made.

Kirishima laughed at your pout, “gimme a kiss,” he whispered as he didn’t even give you a chance to respond. you smiled during the kiss before pulling away, “what’s with all the PDA?” you asked a bit playfully, “no reason, just because I like you, that’s all,” he responded.

you shrugged as you noticed that your plate was finally ready. Kirishima on the other hand stuck his tongue out at Shinsou in retaliation. like he mentioned before, he wasn’t much of a petty person. it wasn’t manly to act in such a way but knowing that Shinsou was still pretty infatuated with you even though you didn’t give Shinsou the time of day anymore boosted his ego up the tiniest bit.

“tch, dumbass,” Bakugou told Kirishima knowing exactly why he kissed you so ‘randomly’, “she’s already yours, no need to do all that,” he added on.

Kirishima shrugged as he watched you pour syrup all over your pancakes, “yeah but I guess people need a reminder,” he replied giving Shinsou one last look before ordering his breakfast and intertwining your hand with his again.

ALITA

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Eternity

Steve x reader x Tony

Tony Stark was a vampire. Tony had been changed during the renaissance when he had been a lord. He’d never told anyone who changed him, so you could only assume he did not know or it had been a previous lover.

He’d traveled alone for centuries, always living his immortal life to the fullest due to the fortune he’d managed to keep. Tony had never changed anyone until he met Steve. Steve had been a scrawny little thing when he’d happened upon Tony and his only aspiration had been to join the army.

Thanks to a distant relative of Tony’s, Howard, Steve had become Captain America. Tony had been with Steve along every step of his journey and the two eventually became lovers. Tony had been aboard the plane when Steve crashed it, the two knew there was no other choice, but Tony refused to lose Steve this way.

Before the plane had had a chance to freeze, Tony had swam himself and Steve to the surface but Steve had been injured during the landing. Steve was dying and the only to save him had been to change him but Steve did not mind.

For the next few decades the two vampires traveled around the world, enjoying every luxury the world had to offer, until they met Nick Fury. Nick had eventually convinced the two to join his ‘super secret boy band’ and that’s when they met Y/N.

Y/N was a born mutant, being born with powers akin that those of Magneto’s she was a valuable asset, and in Clint’s words an angel.

It was not hard for the vampires to fall for the woman, especially when she began living in the tower with the team.

It had taken the boys six months to crack before they asked the woman out.

“Good morning boys.” Y/N chirped, skipping into the kitchen and pressing a kiss to Steve and Tony’s cheeks.

“Morning Y/N.” Steve smiled, watching as she made herself a tea. “You’re looking chipper this morning.” He commented.

“It’s Friday, Stevie. The sun is shining and the world isn’t burning.” The woman smiled before knocking on the wooden table.

“Chipper, Steve?” Tony snorted, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Your age is showing.”

“Says the oldest man in the room.” Steve shook his head. “So, Y/N, do you have any plans for today?”

“Not much. Gonna have lunch with Nat and I’m going out for dinner tonight.” She shrugged. “What about you two?”

“Oh, we’re going to hang around the tower, nothing exciting like you.” Tony said. “Are you going with anyone to dinner?”

“Yeah, Wanda set me up with someone she met at her yoga class, his name’s Mike.” She told the two.

Y/N stayed and talked to the two for another hour before she excused herself to shower.

“I told you we should have asked her yesterday.” Tony said after Y/N left. “But no, you said to wait one more day.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Steve sighed. “How was I to know she would have date tonight? I’m nervous about this, okay, Tony? I’ve never been with a woman before, never felt like this with anyone but you before and I’ve certainly never been in a polyamorous relationship. I’m nervous.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I know you panic but I really wanted this to work.” Tony said, sitting next to the blonde.

“It’s not like we knew whether or not she was interested in us.”

“If you’re talking about Y/N, the woman is hopelessly in love with you two.” Natasha said, entering the kitchen. “But she doesn’t want to get in between you two or ruin her friendship with you.” She added, taking an apple from the bowl.

“You know by telling us this, you’re breaking all those girl code rules?” Tony asked the ex-assassin who merely smirked.

“I know but it’s better than watching the three of you dance around each other.” She said, biting her apple. “I suggest you hurry up before she decides to really move on.”

The boys didn’t see Y/N for the rest of the day but they had plenty of time to think of what their next move would be. But it turns out all their plans would be thrown to the side as Y/N came back later that night.

“Hey doll, are you okay?” Steve asked, pausing the movie at the sight of the woman.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I interrupted your movie, I’ll get out of your hair.” She gave the two a weak smile and attempted to leave.

“Sweet cheeks, come here.” Tony said, gesturing for her to sit next to him. Y/N pressed her lips together but eventually sat next to the brunette. “Tell us what’s up.”

“It’s nothing really.” The woman insisted.

“If it was nothing you wouldn’t be upset, doll.” Steve pointed out.

“It’s just, Mike didn’t show. I sat at that bar for an hour before he texted me he wasn’t interested anymore.” She sighed. “I must have looked like such an idiot.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, the only one who should feel like an idiot is this Mike idiot.” Tony said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“He clearly didn’t deserve your time, doll.” Steve assured her.

“Honestly I didn’t want to go.” Y/N sighed. “I’m just tired of being alone, I’m tired of wanting things I can’t have.”

“You’re not alone. You got the team and you got me and Stevie.” Tony said, squeezing her shoulders. Y/N let out a giggle and pat his hand gently.

“Different kind of love, Tone.” She said. “I want what you and Steve have, what Clint and Laura have. I just can’t have it because the people I want aren’t available. I guess that’s just life and I’ll have to move on.”

“No, you won’t.” Steve said, suddenly appearing on her other side. “I didn’t make the move with Tony,but I’m going to make it now.” He told the woman before kissing her soundly.

The woman barely had a second to breathe when Steve pulled away before Tony crushed his lips to hers.

“Go on a date with us?” Tony breathed against her lips.

“I’d like nothing more.”

“So where are you taking her?” Clint asked, leaning against the counter as he spoke to the men.

“There’s a new restaurant next to that coffee shop you like.” Tony said. “We heard it’s really good so we thought we’d check it out.”

“And if it’s not good, we’re going to the Shack.” Steve told the archer.

“When did that get added to the plan?” Tony questioned the blonde. “I don’t recall this meeting.” He teased, poking Steve in the chest.

“I added it. If this place is a bust, I want to have a back up ready.” The blonde said, swatting at Tony’s fingers.

“You guys have really changed in the last year.” Clint cut in with a smile. “Should I assume a certain mutant women is the reason we don’t have weekly meetings any more? And that she’s the reason we don’t have to train at five a.m.?”

“You would be assuming correctly.” Tony told him.

“She makes us happy. She’s a ray of sunshine.” Steve smiled.

“Isn’t that true? I’ve never met someone as happy as that girl, it’s amazing how much a ray of sunshine she is given what all the doctors said.” Clint commented, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

“Doctors?”

“What doctors?”

Reader POV

It had officially been a year since you went on your first date with Steve and Tony. Eleven months since you’d been able to label yourself their girlfriend.

For your year anniversary your boys wanted to take you out for dinner. You had just finished getting changed when F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted you to your boys arriving on your floor.

“Hi boys, I thought we had an hour before our reservations?” You asked, moving towards the elevator as you secured your earrings.

“Doll, why didn’t you tell us about your heart?” Steve questioned, giving you a sad look. You let out a sigh before sitting on your couch.

“I assumed we didn’t have to talk about it because it’s all in my file.” You said. “Did neither of you read the files when we all joined?”

“No, we didn’t.” Tony admitted, sitting on the couch with you. “I never bothered past name, picture and skill set.”

“Tony distracted me.” Steve said his face flushed red.

“So, who told you?” You asked them.

“Clint, but he didn’t really explain it to us, he just told us you had to tell us. What is wrong with your heart?”

“It’s called Congenital Heart Disease. Basically, I have a hole in the wall that divides the chambers of my heart. It causes irregular heart beat and patterns in my heart.” You told them before laughing. “Did neither of you ever notice my heart beat sounds different to everyone else’s?”

At this both men flushed bright red.

“You two need to pay more attention.” You laughed. “Jesus.”

“You’re not going to die anytime soon, are you sweetheart?” Tony asked after your laughter sobered.

You took this moment to see how genuinely worried your boys were. They were immortal, for years they’d never had to worry about mortality and human fragility.

Until you came along.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” You assured him, grabbing one of their hands. “I’ve had a few surgeries and I’m on medication. I am doing everything to make sure it does not get the better of me. I’ve beaten all the doctor’s expectations so far and I’m going to keep doing it, because I’ve got things to live for. I have people to live for.” You smiled, leaning over and gently kissing both.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. call the restaurant and cancel our reservation. Please order our usual’s from Pete’s.” Tony said, standing and pulling you and Steve with him.

“I thought we were going out tonight?” You questioned as he walked you both towards your room.

“We need to pay more attention. We’re going to start right now and we’re going to ensure we haven’t overlooked anything else.” Tony told you.

Non-Reader POV

“The building is about to blow!” Natasha yelled into the coms. “Everyone get away from it!”

“Y/N where are you?” Steve demanded as he, Tony and Pietro sped people away from the building. “Y/N!”

“I’m almost out.” Y/N said before the building blew. The Earth shook as the building turned to rubble and everyone shielded their eyes and selves as the fire grew larger.

“Y/N!” Echoed in everyone’s ears as Steve and Tony screamed in horror. Her scream would haunt Steve and Tony for centuries to come. The two had never ran as fast as they had in that moment, even Pietro had a hard time spotting them as they ran.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart where are you?” Tony yelled, searching through the rubble. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. scan for Y/N!”

“Tony.” Y/N’s weak voice came over the coms and both men froze. It was only when F.R.I.D.A.Y. directed the two to her location they were able to move.

“Y/N, doll you’re okay.” Steve said as he and Tony ripped the rock and metal off their girl, who had gone quiet.

“Y/N, talk to us, sweetheart.” Tony demanded before letting out a choked sob as they finally saw her. Her skin a terrifying shade of grey, blood dribbled out the corner of her mouth as she stared at the two with slightly glazed eyes.

A long metal pipe was impaled in her stomach.

“Hi boys.” The woman laughed before coughing harshly. Blood stained her chin. Steve and Tony dropped to their knees on either side of the woman and Tony grabbed her hand as Steve pressed his hands to her stomach.

“I need a medic here, immediately!” Steve demanded.

“Steve don’t.” Y/N said. Steve’s head shot to her, dark veins under his eyes and fangs on display. “It’s no use.”

“Don’t say that.” Tony snapped, his own fangs out on show. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be just fine. You made it this far, this long, you can’t die.”

“I made it this far.” The woman attempted to laugh but only managed a sob. “It’s only fitting, it’s not my heart that’s going to kill me but metal.”

“It’s not funny, doll” Steve said, hands stained red as he continued to press her wound.

“It’s kind of funny.” She contradicted him. “Oh God, I’m going to die.” She sobbed as realization struck her of the severity of the situation.

“You’re not going to die.” Tony soothed her. He shared a look with Steve who gulped as her irregular heart beat slowed. The sound they’d found comforting was now filling them with fear.

“I don’t want to die. All I’ve ever heard from anyone is I’m going to die, I really don’t want to die. I love you both, I don’t want to leave you.” She cried as her breathing began to get shallow.

Tony quickly wiped the tears away and looked at Steve again.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to die.” Tony told her. “Just say the word and you won’t have to die. We don’t want to lose you either.”

“We can have eternity together.” Steve said, moving one hand and grasping one of hers.

Y/N let out several coughs, her teeth were now stained red but she managed to rasp out;

“I want eternity.”

Tony quickly bit his wrist and pressed his bloody wound to her lips, tilting her head so it dripped down her throat.

“Let me help.” Steve said, Tony shifted and Steve quickly took his place, his wrist replacing Tony’s. Their blood would not heal the woman quick enough to save her in this life, but it would allow her to come back reborn.

Y/N reached up a bloody hand and placed it on Steve’s cheek.

“Do it.” She breathed. “I love you.” She repeated before her neck was snapped.

Tony was almost numb as he pulled the metal pipe out of her stomach and Steve cradled the woman in his arms.

It was a matter of waiting now.

Reader POV

“Why do you still have these, it’s been a decade?” Tony laughed, tossing a bottle of pills at you. You caught them easily before throwing them into the toss pile. “You’re such a hoarder.”

“Like you can talk.” You rolled your eyes.

“Didn’t we just find a box of your clothes from your youth?” Steve asked as he taped a box close.

“They’re collector items. Difference is we can sell them to museums in the future.” He shrugged.

“Pretty sure we can sell them now.” You told him.

“No, let’s just keep them for a while. Let the value rise.” He said, making you and Steve laugh.

It had been ten years since your ‘death’. You’d adjusted to your new lifestyle quickly much to the boys relief and had only struggled for your first few months. In the past ten years new recruits had been trained for the Avengers, so the three of you felt the world was safe enough you could take a few years off.

After tonight the three of you were on your way to Italy to Tony’s former home. He’d managed to maintain the home throughout the years and it only felt right to start your vacation where it all had started.

“We never did decide where to go after Italy.” Steve commented as he packed away his shield.

“We don’t need to make a plan.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“We have have eternity, my boys.” You smiled, leaning over to kiss Tony on the cheek and then Steve.

“We have eternity.” The two agreed.

And you did. You really did.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @rvgrsbrns @hopingforbarnes @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @jelly-fishy-babie @smilexcaptainx @starlingelliot @reann-loves-sebstan

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Sam x reader x Steve x Bucky

Tony x reader x Bruce

Natasha x reader x Wanda

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

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