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1101001 · 3 years

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THE GIRL WHO FLEW DOWN THE STAIRS _

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‘ the story of akashi meeting you and all the events after that made him realize he was falling for you ’

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character .. akashi seijuurou

word count .. 1.3k

tags .. fem!reader who is energetic but also thoughtful and likes to learn (as requested) , lowkey pining? , s h o g i , written from akashi pov , requested by the lovely bean anon <3

Akashi’s first impression of you wasn’t anything bad. It wasn’t exactly good either. It was certainly memorable though. ‘The girl who flew down the stairs, knocking him onto the ground, and landing on top of him with a thump’ is how he remembers you.

The moment was almost cliche. If your eyes had met and lingered on each other, both aware of the position you were in but not moving away, then it possibly would’ve been a scene straight out of some cheesy romance novel.

Instead, you seemingly bounced straight up upon impact, not even bothering to spare Akashi a second glance. You proceeded to give him a quick apology, running down the next flight of stairs immediately after.

It was definitely one of the odder interactions Akashi had with his fellow students at Rakuzan High, but it amused him nonetheless and made him notice you much more often around campus. Even though you weren’t in any apparent rush anymore, you still radiated this energy that was all bubbly and seemingly ready to burst.

It brought a small smile on his face every time he saw you, bouncing along hallways without a care in the world, chattering away with your friends. Sure you seemed like the typical happy-go-lucky person, but Akashi couldn’t help but see you as a bit more unique.

Your second interaction with Akashi was an interesting one too, in Akashi’s opinion at least.

The basketball team had just won a tournament the other day, so Akashi was free this afternoon. He had decided to go challenge some shogi club members to a few games.

In the middle of one of those games, you walked into the club room.

Akashi didn’t think you were part of the club, and his suspicions were confirmed when another member of the club went to ask if you needed anything. Akashi was definitely not eavesdropping, no he was paying attention to his game (the one he knew he would easily win anyway) when you pulled out an envelope and he happened to overhear you telling the club member that someone asked to meet you.

Nobody in the room came forward to claim they were the one who sent the letter though.

After a few awkward, silent moments, you moved to take a seat with some of the other club members. It was an action that surprised Akashi. He figured you would’ve just left because the whole did seem like a waste of time. However, you just sat there asking some club members to teach you how to play.

Akashi could sense genuine curiosity in you and, needless to say, it intrigued him. It seems like there’s more to the “girl made of energy” than he originally thought.

The clock ticked, and a few rounds later, Akashi decided it was time to head home. Saying his formal goodbyes, he walked out of the clubroom.

He didn’t expect you to come running after him, almost slamming into him again in the process.

“You shouldn’t run around school so much, you know. You could end up bumping into people and maybe even hurting them.” The words left Akashi’s lips sounding a lot more teasing and flirtatious than he intended.

You blushed and started rambling out apologies. ‘Cute’ Akashi thought.

His brain froze.

Wait. Cute? How-

“Anyway um.. you left your notebook back there…” you said, holding out what was indeed his notebook out towards him.

“Oh…” was all he could say. He rarely forgot his things, especially things as important as his notebook. It seems his mind must’ve been too distracted by... other things. “Thank you L/n-san.”

He saw a slight shock on your face. “You know my name?”

His brain froze yet again. How was he supposed to answer this question without seeming like a stalker?

“Well yes…” he started before you cut him.

“Didn’t expect the Akashi Seijuurou to know my name.”

He scoffed at that. “I think I’d know the name of the girl who jumped down the stairs and knocked me to the ground.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about that…” you said with a smile, although Akashi could see the guilt that lingered behind your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly said. “I was just…”

He was just what? Flirting? Was he actually flirting? Him. Akashi Seijuurou. Flirting??

“…you know,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t say anything in response but instead looked at him with a peculiar sort of gaze.

“Um.. hate to make things awkward by asking this but… were you the one who sent me this?” You held up the envelope Akashi saw earlier.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh… okay then.” Was it just Akashi’s imagination or did he hear a sliver of disappointment in your tone? “I suppose you don’t know who it is either right?”

He shook his head.

A lot of thoughts rushed through his mind. Did you actually expect him to send you a love letter? Did you hope it was him?

He sensed you were about to leave though, so before he could regret it, he asked you, “Why do you want to know who sent it anyway?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the question.

“I understand the curiosity and wanting to know who it is but… if they didn’t show up, why are you still waiting?” He clarified.

“Akashi-san, you’ve never confessed to someone have you?”

He gave a slight nod.

“Well, I don’t see why you’d need to,” you mumbled more to yourself than him. Clearing your throat, you continued, “The thing is, confessing takes a lot of courage. And writing this letter asking me to meet them here would’ve taken a whole lot of that courage already. I think that, if they were able to go that far, then I should at least hear them out right?”

That… surprised Akashi.

“But then again, there’s always a possibility this is just a prank,” you added as an afterthought.

Unsure of what to say, he just nodded. “It is possible, considering how long you had to wait.”

You smiled, “The wait was fine though. I had fun learning shogi.”

You actually had fun learning how to play? Looking back, it did seem like you were enjoying yourself…

It’s strange. Akashi realized just how much his view of you changed in one afternoon. Earlier, you were that bubbly, energetic girl bouncing through the halls. Now, you were this thoughtful and kind person who liked to learn. You also said you had fun playing shogi, which nearly made Akashi’s heart skip a beat.

Oh.

He gets it now. The reason his brain was acting all slow was you. With that thought, everything became clearer.

Now he wishes that love letter really was a prank.

“Ah Akashi-san, I think I have to go home soon,” you said, holding up your phone. “You’re heading out too right? Wanna walk with me?”

He blinked in surprise but quickly agreed.

“Great, just let me get my things first-” And with that you rushed back into the club room.

Akashi stood staring at the empty hallway, still caught up in his thoughts and trying to process what just happened between you two just a few seconds ago.

When you came back out with your things, he couldn’t help but smile softly. The two of you fell into conversation easily, and by the time you walked out of the school gates, you were still in a talk that showed no signs of nearing an end.

He wanted to continue walking and talking like this, but there was a car and a driver waiting for him in the exact opposite direction of where you were headed.

“Well, goodbye then L/n-san,” he said, hoping the reluctance wasn’t obvious.

You smiled in response. “Goodbye Akashi-san. It was nice talking to you.”

With that the two of you went your separate ways. Throughout the car ride home, Akashi could think of nothing but you. It would seem… he has taken quite the liking to you.

He isn’t sure what’ll happen next, but he’s looking forward to seeing you again and hopefully, talking more with you too.

. . .

note .. THIS CAME OUT LONGER THAN ORIGINALLY INTENDED but anyway i actually enjoyed writing this,,, yk all the stuff potentially going thru akashi’s mind when he has a crush intrigues me and uhh i hope u guys liked this and if u do PLS LMK WHAT U THINK !! it would legit mean the world if u guys did <3

#knb x reader #akashi x reader #akashi x you #akashi seijuurou x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi fluff #knb fluff #knb imagines #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #akashi seijurou #and again idk how to tag sht #signed.. koko

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theepisceswriter · 3 years

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Doing dirty things w/ AOT characters while you two most definitely shouldn’t be (Reiner, Erwin, Zeke, Levi)

A/N: my faithful stoned thot anon, shoutout to you for this request and I hope this was something like you were imagining in your mind. I know you only asked for simple mundane tasks, but I wanted to be extra and include more situations. I can’t wait to work on the other ones you sent me !

Synopsis: Basically, you’re trying to do a task that requires a lot of your attention or you to be silent (like on the phone, out to eat with friends, etc), but your partner really really needs some attention in that moment. I suck at descriptions sorry 🥴 If you see any typos no u didn’t, but really I was too lazy to proofread.

TW: Modern AU, hehe naughtiness obviously, choking for Zeke, also embarrassment, fembodied!reader, 18+, MINORS DNI!

REINER BRAUN: Movie night with friends

Reiner just couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. The first sight of you in your silky pajama shorts and this man’s thoughts were going crazy watching you parade around the house as you grabbed the snacks and needed materials for tonight’s movie night with some of you guys’ friends. Luckily the fabric of his pajama pants were loose enough to hide the growing boner in his pants, but of course he made it known to you by approaching you from behind and pressing it against your ass so you could feel just how hard you had made him simply by looking pretty.

His hands began to roam all over your body, stealing a grope of your breast, and his mouth attached to your neck, taking breaks in between kisses to tell you how good you look and how much you riled him up. As good as it all felt, Pieck and Porco were only right down the street, so you took his hands off of your body with promises of making him feel better later in the night once they had left. You’re lucky he doesn’t like quickies like that and prefers to take his time with you or else he would’ve taken you right there up against that counter chile.

Pieck and Porco finally arrive and what was supposed only be one movie turned into two, and now here you were snuggled up under Reiner on a completely different couch than Porco and Pieck while they flipped through a catalogue on the television looking for a new movie to start up; Reiner growing more and more impatient as the minutes went on. The constant caressing on your thigh and pinches he would give your nipples every now and then giving that away completely.

You got tired of fighting his advances off a long time ago and part of you wanted him to continue, to see how far he would actually go, because truth is you wanted him just as much as he wanted you right now. You were just a lot better at hiding it.

It was halfway through the movie that he finally decides to make a drastic move, moving you to a position where your back was pressed against his chest and tapping your hips, signifying for you to raise them so he could pull your shorts down to your thighs.

“Sit still for the rest of the night and I’ll reward us both so good once they leave.” He’d whisper in your ear. The only warning you’d get before he’s slowly easing his cock into you careful not to stretch you out too much, but the wetness that accumulated between your legs all night long makes it so you swallow him completely. A shocked moan leaving both of your lips, but luckily being silenced by the action scene on the tv; both Porco and Pieck too into it to even pay attention to the two of you.

So desperately you wanted to swirl your hips up against you, create any sort of friction to make his cock hit that spot in your soft velvety walls that left you clenching and squealing and him growling into your ears, but instead you had to be as still as possible while cockwarming him. Not being too careful would surely draw the attention of the other two, but Reiner still tested the waters every now and then by shifting every so often on purpose to cause movement.

He was even able to draw a weird moan out of you once that had Porco and Pieck looking over at you like you were crazy, questioning if you were okay which you had no choice but to reply yes to. Barely able to get that out because the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you mixed with your walls clenching around him was a whole sensation on its own.

“Careful, you don’t want them knowing that I’m balls deep in you right now would you? Or would a slut like you enjoy that; them knowing that your pussy is swallowing my cock whole right now?”

Reiner is degrading during sex sometimes and you cannot tell me otherwise #sorrynotsorry.

And when he said the two of you would be staying like this the whole night until they left he absolutely meant it. After that little moaning incident he surprisingly acted normal the whole night, like the two of you weren’t even doing what you were doing underneath the cover. Knowing how torturous it must be for him to deny you the skin to skin contact and hip bucking you needed from him.

ERWIN SMITH: In a restaurant surrounded by friends

You never thought Erwin to be the bold type to try something out in public with you. The closest thing the two of you have done to it was a quick quickie in his office once with you pressed against the window of the skyscraper building it was located in, but even then you could feel the anxiety in his muscles as he pressed himself up against you; scared of an assistant or important business partner to come barging in on the two of you.

So you can imagine the shock on your face when you were spending the night out with friends at a restaurant, preoccupied with listening to Levi’s horror stories at his tea shop when you felt the ghostly tingles of Erwin’s fingers trail up on your thigh. A hand on your knee was nothing, something he had done plenty of times as a small sign of PDA, but this was different. You looked over to him with a questioned look in your eyes, but his kept his eyes straight and responded to you physically by pressing his thumb against the cloth that separated his finger from your clit.

Almost immediately you choked on the spit going down your throat which garnered the attention from everyone else at the table asking if you were alright. Everyone but Erwin turned to you and if they were truly paying attention that would’ve been a major sign that something was up, but your quick, “I’m okay!” Response had them off your back in an instance and only edged Erwin on more, fingers pushing your panties to the side as he continued on.

The food in front of you hadn’t been touched in around 10 mins since you found yourself full before you were able to finish it all, but you had to pick up your fork and abruptly take a bite of of it when you felt Erwin’s long fingers plunge into you with ease from your wetness and curl up into you; the metal between your teeth the best attempt you had at covering up your moans.

You swear you saw a slight smirk on his lips when you glanced over at him because he’s a menace to society like that.

His hands moved so languidly inside of you hitting all the right spots and pressing down on the sensitive parts of you that always guaranteed a reaction out of you. While also simultaneously still rubbing your clit with his thumb in wide circles, enjoying every twist and turn he saw your face do as you tried desperately to hold your moans in.

At one point, to mess with you even more, he leaned in and whispered into your ear, “You think all these people know that your cunt is clenching around my fingers about to cum?” No one else heard him but you, but it definitely drew the attention of Levi who threw a confused look your way. To which you could only reply to with a smile and awkward chuckle that almost broke out into a moan because Erwin thought it would be a good idea to speed up his fingers.

You didn’t care how obvious it looked anymore, your teeth found comfort in the skin of his arm to stifle moans and your fingers had a death grip on his thighs as your orgasm hit you like a wave. Leaving you with nothing to do but grind your hips down into his fingers slowly to not draw attention as you rode out his orgasm. His fingers were covered in your slick as he pulled them off of you and instead of being discreet and wiping them on his pants or even your dress, he picked up a small dessert off his plate and turned to you. Feeding it to you and sticking his fingers a little too far in your mouth so you can clean your own orgasm off of your fingers. His thumb going between his own lips once he took his fingers out of your mouth and sucking on it gently. “That was delicious.” He would state, never breaking eye contact with you.

The tent in his dressy slacks gave away all the excitement he was feeling on the inside as he watched you squirm in your seat while he did something so naughty to you in public. He couldn’t take it anymore, placing his share of the bill on the table and excusing the both of you for the night before going around and saying your goodbyes. No one seemed to notice anything, except for when you went to Levi to give him a goodbye hug and he whispered in your ear, “Next time get a room or go to the bathroom you freaks.” You totally weren’t embarrassed and didn’t leave the restaurant with warm cheeks.

ZEKE JAEGER: During a zoom meeting

First off, sexy time stuff aside, Zeke is a menace to society and always interrupting your zooms. Whether it’s him barging into the room and asking a question like “Did you eat the last bagel?” While you’re unmuted or walking behind you with his shirt off while you have you camera on. You will never know a peaceful smooth sailing zoom meeting with Zeke in the house.

But you were immune to it at this point and he was a little too immune and comfortable with messing with you while you were in them. But hey, you couldn’t blame him! You looked all too good to him while you laid in the bed on your stomach in one of his band tees and nothing else while you payed attention to the boring lecture happening on your laptop.

Once he realized that your camera was off his hands were on you immediately, rubbing up and down your legs to signify to you that he was in a mood while he made his way on the bed behind you.

“You can’t just be walking around the house all sexy like this and expect me not to pounce on you.”

You want to say something snarky and remarkable back, but a distraction from your boring ass class is exactly what you needed. So instead of protesting this time around, you arched your back so your ass was nearly up to his face to which he replied with playfully slapping you on it and even taking a nibble of your cheek. And because you’re a menace to society you run your own hand along your clothed slit and moving your panties out of the way to put it on display for him.

“I could really use some distracting right now.” Say less, this man’s mouth is on your clit in an instant, devouring you like you’re his first meal of the day. Your hips instinctively grinding down against his tongue as he moved his focus to sucking on your clit at a pace that left you ass up face down on the bed moaning like a pornstar. Never mind his beard scraping against your thighs and possibly leaving a rash there later for you to deal with. It adds a nice touch of pain to your pleasure.

So caught up into the pleasure warming up your lower stomach, you don’t even notice your teacher calling on you until Zeke reaches out and taps on the keyboard to move your attention back to the zoom in front of you, his mouth still working magic on your clit; a mixture of his spit and your juices trailing down his chin. The site is enough to make you cum but you’re forced to divert your eyes away from it as you unmute yourself, quickly asking her to repeat the question, going back on mute before they can hear the slurping noises that Zeke obnoxiously made louder once you unmuted.

“I’m going to kill you.” “Pay attention to school sweetheart before I stop completely. Education comes first!” What an asshole, but despite the joking tone of his voice you know he’d stop in a heartbeat just to mess with you and you’re too close to an orgasm for him to up and quit like that.

From the way your hips move sloppily against his face he can tell that you’re close, but once the teacher repeats the question at you to answer he pulls away completely seemingly to cut you some slack. But, surprise, he only moves his mouth away to replace it with his cock, sliding into you with ease and thrusting into you at a steady pace that has you moan loudly into the microphone on accident.

His face lights up with a smug expression and smile, the embarrassment on your cheeks making him pick up his pace and turning him on in a way. “Now your whole class is going to know that you were getting fucked by me. Too busy getting your hole pounded to even pay attention to the lesion. What a dirty little slut, they’re probably talking about you right now as we speak.”

You’re at a loss of words, not only because of embarrassment but because you can barely form a sentence from the way Zeke is pounding into you so ruthlessly from behind. His hand even coming forward and grabbing at your neck to balance himself against the bed while on his knees.

Your morning with him is far from over and the embarrassment from this zoom is going to last with you forever.

LEVI ACKERMAN: On an important phone call

I know Levi Ackerman with his hands around our necks really get us going and the thought of dom him fucking us from behind while on the phone with our boss makes us feel butterflies in our stomachs....BUT the thought of sub Levi whimpering and having to put his phone on mute while discussing business with someone because you have his cock halfway down your throat, is an equally as hot image.

He would glance at you from over his phone and let out a silent “What are you doing?” And make a faint shooing away motion in the air to make you leave, but he doesn’t want you to leave. You know that and he knows that which is why when you went to unbuckle his pants he gladly let you, hips even raising slightly so you can pull them down enough to let his cock and balls free from the restraints of his underwear and pants.

It was such a sudden and rash decision on your end that he wasn’t even hard at all when you pulled him out, but one lick from the base of his cock to the tip of it is enough to make it stand tall. Warranting a deep intake of air that has the person on the other end of the line asking if he was okay. Between the embarrassment from nearly being caught and the pleasure exploding in his lower half from how good you’re working your mouth, his cheeks are flushed with a bright pink color.

“Do you want me to stop” “no, no, keep going, please.”

He’s so needy and close to that sweet release already, the excitement from doing something so naughty while the person on the other end of the phone has no idea has his senses in an overload. Even the broken ‘Y-Yes’s that have to leave his lips every time he unmutes his phone strikes an excited nerve in him that he didn’t know he had; wishing he could moan as freely as he could to show off how good you make him feel, but he bites back those moans with his teeth. Instead opting for a number of praises when he can.

“You look so pretty on your knees in front of me with your cock in my mouth.” “You make me feel so so good, you don’t even know how good I feel right now because of you.” “Keep that up and I’m going to cum.”

Eyes closing shut and breath picking up the closer he gets. His hand even coming down to move your head at a pace that feels godly around his cock.

Usually you would tease and pull away altogether when he did this, reminding him that he couldn’t be too needy, but you would be lying if you said this didn’t have just as much of affect on him as it did on you, thighs clenching together with each bob of your head and moan that left his lips that he couldn’t quite bite back.

He’s an incoherent mess at the end, lips not even able to move together to form sentences and his hips bucking up wildly into your throat to release his load down your throat. His hips still bucking up slightly even after he came because it just felt that good. His mind was so clouded with pleasure that he didn’t even notice the person on the phone had hung up a long time ago, something he would have to deal with later but that proved helpful right now.

“I hope you don’t think that this was it.” Oops, now you awoke the dominant side of Levi’s switch personality and he’s definitely not letting you off the hook for this one.

#Stallion don’t say ‘menace to society’ a million times in a post challenge #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot smut #aot imagines #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x reader #erwin smith smut #erwin smith x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #Spicy.#zeke jaeger x reader #zeke Jaeger smut

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helloprettybb · 3 years

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slip of the tongue

i love bucky with all my heart. that’s it.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

description: bucky doesn’t really like you. but a night alone and a stab wound may change his opinion.

warnings: violence, bad description of action scene, heated kissing??? not smut but implied

word count: 1.9k

Bucky hates you. It isn’t difficult seeing as you’re Stark’s daughter and every quality in the man is tenfold in you. You’re crazy smart and you aren’t afraid to show it. Perhaps your worst attribute is your arrogance since it’s justified most of the time. Bucky hates how you’re always right and the stupid smirk on your face when you outwit or outtalk someone.

He knows you can tell and that’s the worst part. It seems you do everything in your power to irk him even more. Like trying to talk to him every time he enters the room or asking for every excruciating detail for any minor event. You get on his nerves and nothing could change that.

The team left for a mission this morning so it’s just you and Bucky at the Compound. After doing nothing all day, Bucky decides to go for an afternoon run. He doesn’t listen to music, as he enjoys the sounds of the city between the mindless chatter and the speeding cars, it reminds him of his youth.

Towards the end of his run, Bucky starts toward the Compound when his ears pick up a yell. Going towards the noise, he spots three men assaulting a woman. She tries her best to hold them off, but she is greatly outnumbered and outmatched by the three, burly men.

Bucky springs into action and grabs the man whose hands are around the woman’s throat. Yanking him off easily, Bucky shoves the man to the ground with a force that was probably harder than necessary, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of remorse as he moves his attention to the two other attackers. He grabs the second man, who is slightly shorter than the first and punches him square in the jaw. He releases the woman and stumbles back. The third man lands a few punches on him, but they barely phase Bucky. While fighting off the last man, Bucky doesn’t notice the first guy get up. He also fails to notice the shiny knife in his hand before it’s too late. The man stabs Bucky in the side. Now Bucky’s pissed as he pushes the third man into the wall. He turns toward the man with the knife and knocks him out cold.

He looks around and realizes the woman must have run away. “Good.” he thinks, but only for a minute as he remembers that he got fucking stabbed. He groans as he applies pressure to the wound.

Bucky makes it back to the Compound, but the pain is getting worse. Stumbling inside, he heads for the labs to look for a medkit. But of course, since it’s his lucky day, you’re there, too. You’re probably finishing the project that you were talking about for the past few weeks - something about particles accelerating, but Bucky didn’t care enough to ask. He hopes he can slip by unnoticed, but the gaping hole in his side draws attention to him.

Your head snaps up from your work and you see Bucky hobble by. “Heya Buck,” you start in your usual playful manner. But when you look at the state he’s in, your attitude changes immediately, “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing.” he grumbles. You look down and see that he’s holding his side. His sweatshirt and fingers are covered in blood.

“Bullshit.” you say. Moving around the lab, you quickly find the medkit. “Sit down.”

“I don’t need your-”

“Shut up and sit down.” you interrupt. Bucky’s protests stop as he sits down on one of the stools. You pull up a chair and open the kit.

“Y’know this will probably heal by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but it can’t heal if you bleed to death.” you retort. While the injury most likely won’t kill him, your point still stands. “Can I?” you motion to his hand. He removes his hand and you quickly pull his sweatshirt up to treat the wound. Luckily it’s a shallow stab wound and the gauze you put on is enough to stop him from bleeding out. As you continue to apply the gauze, you have to force yourself to not get distracted by his defined abs and focus all your attention on the wound. Your fingers trace over his stomach and he jumps slightly.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Your hands must be freezing from being down in the lab for so long. Once you finish applying the gauze, you say, “There, all done.” You look up at Bucky and are unable to read his expression. It causes you both to fall into an awkward silence. “So,” you say to clear the air, “How’d this happen?”

“Some guys were attacking this woman. Didn’t know one of them had a knife.” He responds gruffly. You nod in understanding.

You finish patching him up and say, “If you need anything like extra bandages or a beer, just come to me.” Bucky simply nods, unsure what to make of that proposition. He begins to leave awkwardly and almost makes it out of the lab before something in him makes him turn back.

He pops his head in and says, “You said something about beer?”

Bucky doesn’t know what time it is and he doesn’t care. He’s on his fourth beer, but he can’t get drunk so it doesn’t really matter. It’s funny because one beer turned into two and then three and now he’s found himself in a full-on conversation with you. And the most surprising part is that it’s delightful.

Behind your arrogance and quick judgments, you’re really funny. He knew you were smart, that wasn’t a surprise, but talking to you more changed his opinion of you.

“So, Buck.” Usually, that nickname didn’t get to him but a healing stab wound and a couple of beers will change anyone’s perception.

“What?” he asks.

“Got any lucky girl?” He scoffs at that and you look shocked. “What? It was simply a question.”

“It wasn’t the question, doll.” Since when did he call you doll? Just a slip of the tongue, he supposes. “It was the fact that I’d even have someone.” he says honestly.

“What do you mean? You’re a good-looking guy, just over one hundred. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” Bucky rolls his eyes and laughs. Damn, you’re growing on him.

“I’m serious!” you exclaim. Your left arm is on the couch and your hand is leaning against your hand. He realizes this is the closest you’ve been besides before when you were tending to his stab wound. “You’re a catch, Buck. What stops all the ladies from falling all over you?”

He rolls his eyes at you again whether at your persistence or wording. “I’m a bad guy, doll.” There it is again.

“That’s not true,” you scoff. Taking a sip from your beer, you casually add, “Besides, I’ve always had a thing for the bad ones,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at that. “Come on, Buck. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time. I thought I made it quite obvious.”

“By annoying the hell outta me?” He jokes.

“Hey, I was just trying to talk to you. Although I know I can come across as….”

“Annoying.” he says back. You give him a look that makes him laugh and soon a smile spreads across your face.

“I actually do care about you. But, I know you don’t feel the same way, so I’m happy just being friends.” Bucky thinks it over for a moment. Just this morning he was thinking about how you bothered the hell out of him. Actually, the more that he thinks about it, he realizes that he never really hated you. Did Bucky like you all along? He’s about to reply when the elevator doors open.

“Oh, you’re back?” you turn to greet the team.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late with Bucky?” Your dad eyes the two of you suspiciously.

You catch onto what he’s implying and assure him, “We’re just hanging out. In fact, I was just heading to my room. See you tomorrow.” You say a quick goodbye and leave before anyone could say anything.

They all turn to Bucky, ready to attack him with questions. “I’m going to head up, too.” Bucky quickly exits. He catches up to you, although he definitely didn’t mean to. Curse his long legs.

“Oh, hey,” you say as he enters the sleeping quarters.

“Hey,” he says. Fuck it, mind as well try it. “So, about the friend thing.”

You wince, “You don’t want to be friends.” You seem a little hurt by it, “I get it, you don’t really like me. It’s not like I can force you, too. And especially after I basically confessed to liking you as more than a friend, I could see how a potential friendship wouldn’t sound too appealing.” You’ve never looked this uneasy. He’s used to seeing you so confident and assured, but this was new.

Bucky lets you finish rambling before he replies, “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little, finally shutting you up. He moves closer, but you stay still. You both can tell what’s about to happen, yet neither is making a motion to stop it.

“I like you. As more than a friend.” You look like you’re trying to play it cool and contain your excitement, but Bucky sees you bite your lip like you’re trying to stop your smile from spreading.

“So…” You start like you’re thinking long and hard about what you’re about to say, “Can I kiss you?” You’re adorable. Bucky takes one last step and pulls you into a kiss.

Your lips are soft against his. Beyond the taste of beer, Bucky picks up some… he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip… cherry lipgloss. He’ll never get sick of the taste of cherries. He thought it’d be a sweet, innocent kiss but when you grab at his back, trying to hold him as close as possible, he knows it’s anything but. You kiss him hungrily as if your life depends on it and Bucky eagerly accepts. He muffles your moans and gasps and thinks about how nice those sounds will be echoed in his bedroom.

Bucky moves you so that your back is against the wall. You moan as his hands trail down your sides and onto your ass. His hands go under your thighs and you jump so that you can wrap your legs around his waist. Bucky catches you and pins you between himself and the wall.

Your hands go up to his hair and play with a few strands before pulling lightly. He groans at that, separating from your lips and throwing his head back. With his neck exposed, you trail kisses up and down his throat. Sucking and biting occasionally and making Bucky go crazy.

Two can play at that game, he thinks. He reconnects your lips to kiss you again and starts grinding his hips into you. Your hands go to his back and start scratching against his shirt.

Before this could go any further, Bucky pulls away and asks, “My room?”

And you smile, “Fuck yeah.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines

330 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

#maneskin fiction #damiano david fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david x reader #writers block #bethanysnow #quiet music

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sserpente · 3 years

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A/N: So this is a much requested Part II of this Christmas Imagine which I suppose you can also read on its own. Also has requests from @keepcalmandtravelonkate and @fandom-rpblog as well as the exclusive Zoom meeting idea. Haha, enjoy everyone! ♥

Words: 1822 Warnings: fluff

Christmas Eve came sooner than you had thought and it was about as cheerful as you had imagined it. Thor greeted you with mug of steaming hot chocolate first thing in the morning, wearing the ugly Christmas sweater you had bought him last year and Tony was already in the spacious living room with Pepper to finish up the preparations for his annual Christmas party.

You spent the entire day baking biscuits and didn’t see Loki all day but for some peculiar reason you hoped that he too would attend the biggest Christmas party in New York City. Tony had invited everyone—no, that was not entirely true, the party was, in fact, for everyone—especially those who had no one else to spend Christmas Eve with or wanted to do so with none other than the famous Avengers.

With a sigh, you finished applying your red lipstick and admired yourself in the mirror. The green dress shimmering like a thousand tiny crystals had cost you way more than what you would normally spend on clothes but the occasion was worth it. You had only realised after that green was Loki’s colour too. Another sigh escaped your lips.

The God of Mischief and you had not really spoken since the roof-incident. Part of you wondered whether he was about as confused as you about what had happened between you, especially after Thor had interpreted your entanglement in a romantic manner, the other insisted you didn’t think too much of it. Loki was just… Loki. Mysterious, mischievous and handsome. Wait… handsome?

By the time you arrived at the party, more than two dozen guests had already arrived. Dressed in Christmas pullovers, suits or festive dresses much like you, they held small glasses full of mulled wine, eggnog or champagne, munching on biscuits and other Christmas treats and chatting with each other and the superheroes who had already joined the party guests, impressing them with their stories and their skills.

Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Loki standing only a few feet away from you. Heavens, he should not be allowed to wear suits. Instead of the light version of his Asgardian signature outfit you usually saw him in, the God of Mischief was dressed in an all-black suit complimenting his raven hair and tall figure. It was perfect to blend in and not attract too much attention, for many citizens still avoided him like the plague after everything that had happened only a few years back. Your eyes met, sending waves of electricity though you, and he nodded.

You furrowed your brows when somebody spoke your name. “Is that you?” Much to your dismay, you recognised the voice immediately. It belonged to Derek, your ex-boyfriend. Derek who collected action figures of the Avengers and who owned a Captain America costume worth five-hundred dollars. Derek, who had cheated on you with other women and, upon your break-up, had blamed you for the sexual imbalance in your relationship. Needless to say, you had not exactly ended it on good terms. The last thing you wanted to do was chat to him of all people on Christmas Eve. Much rather, you’d finally spend some time with Loki again. He was fun to be around once he had warmed up to someone…

“I tried to text you like… a hundred times.”

“I saw. I blocked your number after fifty.” You retorted.

“Don’t be like that. I was going to make up, you know.”

“You literally told me it’s my fault that you went ahead and fucked other women behind my back, Derek!”

“Because you didn’t give me what I need in the bedroom, baby. We should have talked about that more. It wouldn’t happen again. Let’s talk about this. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay… Care to dance with me then?”

“Absolutely not.” You hissed.

“Come on. You are not here with someone, are you?”

You blinked. Fuck. Think, think, think. “Yes, actually.” You lied quickly. Your eyes fell on Loki who met your gaze again in a strange and almost affectionate way—something had definitely changed between you since he had helped you decorate the Avengers facility and you remembered, with butterflies in your belly, how he had caught you in his arms when you had fallen off the roof like a bird with broken wings. The idea came to you before you could properly think it through. Derek would never dare to defy someone like Loki. He was your perfect alibi to get rid of him.

“I’m here with my boyfriend. You probably know Loki?” Before you could change your mind, you stepped forward, closed the remaining distance between you and put your arm under Loki’s. He did not fail to react. Turning away from Thor, he frowned and stared at your linked arms, then opened his mouth to question you. Much to your relief, however, the gesture did not seem to anger him.

You shot him a pleading glance. Play along, you thought. Please, take the hint.

“Are you serious right now?” Derek spat, a both disgusted and shocked expression on his face.

Much to your surprise—or maybe not—Loki wrapped his arms around your middle then, pressing you against his strong body. Your heart skipped a beat. This felt like him cradling you in his arms like a bride, only more… intense, for this time—this time, it was actually intentional.

Loki gave Derek a glare, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “Are you alright, my sweet mortal?” My sweet mortal? “I believe you have promised me a dance.”

Derek swallowed, blinking at you a few times—and then, without a word, he shook his head and disappeared in the burbling and dancing crowd. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Good thing for you he’d always been a coward.

But while relief was flooding your veins, at the very same time, adrenaline set every single cell of your body on fire. Loki was still holding you. His lips against your skin had felt like the gentle kiss of a butterfly… You looked up, if anything not to make the situation even more awkward than it already was, given that by now, both Thor and Natasha had become rather taken aback witnesses as well.

“Thank you. I really owe you.” You muttered.

“I take it this was a former suitor of yours?”

You gave him a weak smile. “That’s a very elegant way to put it but yes, he is my ex-boyfriend. I left him when I found out he cheated on me—repeatedly. I panicked when he approached me and I knew he’d be scared of you.”

“Why thank you.” Loki replied with dismay before, much to your surprise, a smirk grew on his lips.

“No! I just meant…”

“I know what you meant. So?”

“S-so what?”

“He is still watching you. You would do well to keep up the act.” Loki said, keeping you from spinning around to check. But he was probably right either way. You had just announced in front of a bunch of strangers as well as your ex-boyfriend and two Avengers that Loki and you were dating. You were honestly surprised the Trickster did not at all seem too bothered by this very circumstance, not to mention what it meant for you. Ever since the roof-incident, you certainly didn’t mind clinging onto him like that.

“Dance with me.” He commanded softly, one of his large hands coming to rest on your waist while the other interlinked with yours. “He will lose interest if you feign easiness.”

You nodded quickly, leaning into him to not raise any suspicion and taking a deep breath when the side of your face connected with his chest. Loki rested his chin on the top of your head, weighing you gently from side to side as if the music was made of waves carrying you over an ocean. It was a classic playing right now—What are you doing New Year’s Eve by Ella Fitzgerald—sweet, calm… romantic. This evening was going in a very dangerous direction now but you couldn’t help but feel safe and protected in the God of Mischief’s arms. Who would have thought that putting up Christmas decoration together would create such a strong bond between two people… a mortal and a god on top of that?

“I got you a Christmas present, you know.” You murmured after a while.

His voice vibrated in his chest, you could feel it against your cheek. “Did you now?”

“Hmm…” He stole away your ability to speak. That was so unfair! “I was going to give it to you tomorrow morning but… would you like me to give it to you now, in private?” It would be the perfect excuse to get away from here for a bit too, even if, in better lighting, Loki would probably notice your blushed cheeks.

“Lead the way, my sweet mortal.” There it was again. Smiling up at him sheepishly, you moved a step back and took his hand, practically fleeing from the scene.

Loki remained in the doorway when you reached your room. Whether it was out of decency or respect, you couldn’t quite tell. You crossed your room with quick steps, reaching for Loki’s gift under your bed. You had wrapped it in green paper and decorated it with a golden bow. A bit of a cliché perhaps but it looked just perfect.

“Merry Christmas, Loki.” You said when you returned to him and handed it to him. He only took it hesitatingly.

“Why did you get me a gift?”

You shrugged. “I just wanted to be nice. I doubt the others will have gotten you something so I thought… just so you can unwrap something too?” You almost choked on your nervous laughter. “You know I almost decided not to give it to you after all after you almost drove me mad when I was hanging up the Christmas lights.”

Loki chuckled. “I suppose you made that consideration before I saved your life.”

“More or less...” You replied, winking at him. Hey… this isn’t so hard after all!

Your heart was pounding in your chest by the time he unwrapped it, revealing the notebook and the green and gold fountain pen you had gotten him. It even came with green ink.

“It’s not much, really, just…” You said quickly. “I keep seeing you scribbling and reading a lot and I thought…”

“Thank you.” He interrupted. Honesty swung in his smooth voice, making your heart beat faster in an instant. At this speed, you were going to need an ambulance soon.

You smiled. “I ought to thank you. Derek is a dick. You saved me twice now, I’m in your debt.”

Loki chuckled once more, looking you deeply in the eye. “Yes. I believe you are.” It was, without a doubt, a promise.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente

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teklarn · 3 years

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I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently.

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol, second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things.

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all.

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever.

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds.

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?”

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?”

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated.

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding.

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.”

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.”

“do you want to go back to the dorms?”

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.”

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up.

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—”

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance.

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—”

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough.

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears.

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him?

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue.

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him.

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name.

“y/n?”

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?”

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?”

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.”

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise.

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.”

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it.

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out.

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it.

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together.

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side.

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.)

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three.

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned.

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.”

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.”

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.”

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him.

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away.

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles.

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.”

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight.

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume.

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—”

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.”

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself.

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked.

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another.

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen.

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground.

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.”

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.”

“bu—”

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.”

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand.

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting.

cement flew into the air.

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots.

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder.

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest.

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya.

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park.

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question.

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement.

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost.

your head whipped around to see him charging for you.

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore.

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right?

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain.

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions.

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering.

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up.

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling.

“y/n! are you alright?”

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.”

“do you need—”

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst.

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg.

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly.

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away.

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?”

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.”

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down.

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?”

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.”

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.”

“mhm,” you agreed.

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.”

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you.

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?”

“yes, thank you recovery girl.”

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that.

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off.

“good, you’re awake.”

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!”

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage.

“what...what do you want?”

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.”

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.”

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-”

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.”

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused.

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone.

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?”

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.”

you gulped.

“so what’re you saying?”

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.”

“say it again.”

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours.

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.”

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out.

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.”

he grinned. “where to?”

224 notes · View notes

triplexdoublex · 3 years

Text

Pornstar

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: rough sex, anal sex, face fucking, gagging, spit, spitting in mouth, slight bondange, golden showers, pissing in mouth, slapping across face, being filmed.

A/N: Shout out to Shawnie ( @heytheregreeneyes) for always letting me use her as my OC and being my best friend. Also Colson isn’t MGK in this, just a pornstar so his personality isn’t as cocky as he usually is. I know I’ve mentioned it before but the sex in this is loosely based off my fave porn star Small Hands AKA Aaron Thompson. Hope this was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think! “Open it, open it!” Your roommate and best friend Shawnie stood before you with a gift bag in hand, shaking it excitedly.

“My birthday’s not even until this weekend,” You laughed taking the bag from her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait? It’s only a few more days.”

“ No please, I’ve kept this a secret for long enough, it’s killing me! Just open it!” She exclaimed. “Plus your gonna need time to prepare.”

“Prepare?”

“C’mom, just open it, open it, open it!!!” She was far too excited. You wondered what it could be that she was so eager to give you. But what you pulled out of the bag just left you with even more questions.

“Thanks???” You said confused, holding up a sexy red lace bra and matching g- string that tied at hips.

“That’s only part of it,” she assured you. “What’s your biggest wish?” She tried to clue you in.

“Ummm paying off all my student debt?” You answered still puzzled. “Did you get me a job as a stripper?” You laughed.

“Okay, maybe ‘wish’ was the wrong word to use … hmmm—oh biggest fantasy!” She corrected herself.

“Oh to fuck my favorite porn star Huge Hands, AKA Colson Baker. You know that — wait … no, no way!” You exclaimed as your friend started frantically nodding her head yes. “Shut up!!! What? You’re kidding. Like how?”

“Look in the bag . There’s more!”

You reached into the bag and pulled out a pass of some kind and read it aloud. “Huge Hands/Colson Baker : Exclusive Access, Porn Star for a Day pass”

“They were super limited, I have no clue how I managed to snag one, but I’m so happy I did! The look on your face right now is priceless!” Shawnie laughed. “It’s probably because you’re the only one I know who’s crazy enough to actually go through with this.”

“I-I don’t even know what to say. I have no words… thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, still in shock. “I’m really about to have the best sex of my life this weekend! On my birthday yet! Have you seen his fucking cock, it’s huuuge!”

“Yes, many times,” Shawnie chuckled , entertained by how pumped you are. “Or did you forget about all the links of his umm ‘work’ you’ve sent me?” Shawnie wasn’t big on porn herself but she was always willing to take an interest in your latest obsessions, no matter what they were. That’s what you loved most about her. “Turn it over, it tells you more about what’s included on the back.”

You did as she suggested, turning the pass over to read more. “Half hour zoom call day before to privately discuss details, and needs/wants of scene; hair and make up; up to one hour of shooting time; and keepsake autographed DVD recording,” you listed off. “You know I’m gonna watch that everyday for the rest of my life, right?”

“I’m assuming you’re gonna make me watch it at least once too, knowing you,” Shawnie laughed.

“Yeah probably,” you laughed as well. “ I got no shame!”

*************

You’re stomach was in knots as you waited for the zoom call to begin; you’d never felt so excited and nervous at the same time. Shawnie was there with you sitting just out of frame, when the ‘bloop’ of the call came through your computer's speakers.

“Hi, Y/N?” Colson questioned.

“Yeah, hi. That’s me!” You did a timid little wave.

“Ok good, just wanted to make sure I got the right person before we get started here. Imagine that … Awkward!,” he laughed, and you instantly began to relax; you could tell he was going to be easy to talk to. “Well, obviously you know what I do , but I’d love to hear a little about you. Says here on your forms you’re a college student?”

“Wait, what forms?” You asked.

“The ones you filled out online with your info and kinks and things you wanted to include in our video when you purchased the Pornstar for a day package,” he answers slightly confused.

“Ohhh, my friend bought me this for my birthday, she must have filled them out.” You responded. “She’s right here. Say hi Shawnie!”

“Hi!” She giggled leaning into frame.

“Hello. Wow this must be some “friendship” he joked making air quotes. “Because this is a very detailed list. You gotta hear this.” He smirks. “Written in the section about what you hope to include in our scene says— and I quote: I want Huge Hands/ Colson to absolutely destroy me. I want him to fuck my throat, my pussy and my ass. I want him to slap me around, and spit and piss in my mouth, and anything else he wants to do to me, I’m all for it.” He choked out a laugh pulling dramatically at the collar of his shirt “Whew, I’m the pornstar here and that’s even got me blushing!”

“Oh my God, Shawnie!” You covered your beet red face.

“What!?, did I lie?” She laughed.

“I mean no, but still. Damn, to hear it out loud like that.” Your eyes bulged.

“So it’s true then?” Colson asked slyly.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” you hid your smile behind your hand, shaking your head in embarrassed disbelief.

“Aye, no need to be embarrassed, we’re gonna have fun tomorrow, I can tell,” he smiled. “I’m especially excited that your interested in Anal. It’s kinda my favorite. I’m assuming you’ve done it before?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Tell him what your ex said!” Shawnie blurted out.

“Oh, boy. I gotta hear this,” he chuckled. “What’d the ex say?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, “I do enjoy it, probably more than regular sex, if I’m being honest,” you admitted. There was no use trying to be coy now. “Uhhh he actually said I could be a pornstar since I can take a hard anal pounding so well.”

“Nice!” He exclaimed. “Girl, after my own heart.”

“Jesus Christ, this conversation has me sweating already,” you chuckled standing up to pull your cardigan off.

“Is that a little tattoo I saw there, peaking out of the top of your jeans?” He asked.

“Yeah, you wanna see?” You unzipped your jeans without waiting for a response and lowered the top of your underwear just enough to show him.

“ The Playboy bunny, huh? How fitting,” he teased.

“What can I say, it was my first tattoo,” you giggled “Seemed like that’s what everyone was getting at the time.”

“What else you got going on down there?” He lifted his head as if trying to see more. “Is that a landing strip?” He asked referring to the thin dark stripe of short curls just barely visible above the band of your lowered underwear. “Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure,” you lowered them further exposing yourself, your inhibition long gone at that point. “This is just how I normally like to groom. I can shave it completely if you prefer?”

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he smiled. “Well, I think I have a pretty good idea now of what you like and what we’ll be getting ourselves into tomorrow. Do you have any questions or anything else you want me to know, before we end the call?”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Shawnie pretty much laid it all out on those forms,” you laughed.

“That she did!” He produced a chuckle as well. “I meant to ask earlier, but, since she knows so much about your kinks and what not, have you two ever —“

“ No, just best friends, I tend to overshare, I guess.”

“Yeah it amazes me sometimes, the things women share with their friends, but yet guys are always the ones who are known to kiss and tell and brag about their conquests. Females can be just as bad, y’all just keep it on the low a little better,” he stated. “Well, I look forward to working with you tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait!” You responded. “Bye.”

“Bye,”

You felt oddly comforted and at ease after the call, no longer a ball of nerves or embarrassment. He made you feel like there was no shame in enjoying the things you did. He was very professional despite the nature of the call; it didn’t feel sleezy or overly salacious; just two consenting adults having a mature conversation about their sexual desires.

*************************

When you walked out of hair and make-up and onto set, you saw Colson waiting for you on a red leather couch. He was clad in only black dress pants; shirtless — his tattoos on full display. He smiled seductively when he saw you, beckoning you over with a pat to his thighs. You undid your silk robe they had given you and let it slip from your shoulders to the floor, revealing the red lacy set Shawnie had bought you, as you made your way over to him. You suddenly became very aware of all the cameras and other people in the room, as you sat on his lap. Somehow it has slipped your mind that they were all a part of what went into this.

“You get used to it,” he said softly , remembering the way he felt his first time in front of the cameras. “Just pretend they’re not even there— only me and you, okay?” He said brushing a finger along your thigh. “Unless, Shawnie forgot to mention you’re an exhibitionist too, then by all means enjoy them watching us fuck,” he joked, making you laugh. “Don’t forget, if you need me to stop at anytime for any reason, just give me three quick taps,” he demonstrated, tapping your thigh. “Don’t worry about the filming, they can always edit and piece things back together if needed. This is all for you and I want you to enjoy yourself. Oh and happy birthday by the way! It’s today right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ok, so we’ll just start the scene with some kissing and light touches, and when I feel you’re ready I’ll signal the camera man, he’ll call action, and then we'll be recording.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded your head. He had made you feel so comfortable and relaxed the last bit of nervousness you chalked up to just being slightly star struck; You never thought in a million years you’d get this opportunity.

“Ready?,” he pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into the most alluring devilish grin.

“Ready,” you echoed back, biting your lip trying to suppress a needy whine. God you were always such a sucker for his killer eye contact in his films, and now you were the one his eyes were soul fucking. You’re heart pounded with excited anticipation as Colson’s face drew nearer to your own. He lightly held your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, parting them to introduce his tongue. It was a welcome greeting, cut short by the breathy “oh fuck ” that involuntarily slipped from your lips.

“”You good?” He laughed softly, a small puff of air the only thing separating your mouths; your foreheads still touching.

“More...than good,” you spoke in a short choppy sentence trying to compose yourself.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smirked against your lips, continuing to kiss you.

You melted into his kisses— slow and gentle at first, increasing in intensity as he carried on. When he nipped at your bottom lip with a low groan, you lost all innocence, shifting positions to straddle his lap. You gripped the back of his head, as he kissed you and rolled your hips against him, demanding more. And that’s when he knew … that you were ready. He quickly signaled to the cameraman with a thumbs up, and “Action” was called.

His hand slipped down from your chin, settling on the highest part of your neck just under your jaw, his fingers squeezing at your pulse points on either side. Roughly he turned your head to the side with a push of his thumb and his mouth began mauling your neck with an appetite for lust, leaving blooming raspberry patches along the descending path of flesh that lead to your breasts. With one hand he expertly undid the front clasp of your red lace bra and took in the sight of you.

“Perfect,” he whispered into your flesh with a growl, taking one breast in each hand as he licked between them, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You slid the silky straps of your lingerie over your shoulders, letting it fall, as he took turns going back and forth between each breast treating each of your nipples to light suction and a pleasurable nibble. You let out a moan at his actions and again rolled your hips in his lap, pressing yourself against the hardening bulge inside his dress pants. “Needy are we?” He teased swiftly spinning you around so your back was to his chest. He dug his chin into your shoulder peering over it as he snatched up the crotch of your panties roughly, tugging the material up between your lips . You canted your hips up chasing after the friction of the coarse fabric against your clit. “You like that, huh?” He pulled them harsher.

“Mmmm, yes” you squeaked out, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he growled nipping at your neck. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he shoved the material to the side exposing you, letting his fingers explore your folds as he pleased. “You want my cock right in here huh?” His voice was so gravelly and low as he slipped a finger inside you, only to quickly pull it back out, teasing you. “Taste yourself,” he brought the finger to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it, as he slid it further into your mouth, his long fingers slipping down the back of your throat. “Oh, god, yes!” He exclaimed impressed by how you didn’t even gag. “Tell ya what—“ he paused to add a second finger to your mouth, continuing to talk as you sucked “If you can suck my dick as good as that—“ he then pulled them back out of your mouth. “I might just have to fuck you right in here too,” he shoved his spit slicked fingers into your ass.

“Yes, fuck, please!” You whined, wiggling your hips, wanting his fingers deeper.

“You like that? Huh. You dirty little anal whore!” He grabbed your neck with his free hand, keeping you pinned back against him, the fingers of his other hand still moving inside you.

“Yes, yes! I am,” you strained to speak. “Please, please fuck my ass!” You whined impatiently with pleasure. You never heard yourself sound so needy and desperate in your life.

“You sound you pretty when you beg, but you're gonna have to earn it first,” he demanded pulling out his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. Quickly, you dropped to your knees in front of the couch as Colson got up standing before you. You waited impatiently while Colson unbuckled his belt above you. Once undone he yanked the belt free from the loops with a satisfying ‘whoosh’ that made you pulse between your thighs. You desperately clawed his pants and boxers down his legs like a feral cat in heat as Colson brought the tip to your mouth, still holding onto his belt in the other. “Open!,” he demanded. “Goooood,” he growled in praise as you did what you were told. You reached up to grab it but ,“no hands!” he smacked them away, and then secured them behind your back with his belt. “Let’s try this again, open!” He spoke harshly. You obliged, opening wide. “Tongue” he barked. You let it hang from your mouth with anticipation; eager breaths rolling down it like a panting dog eyeing a steak. He teased you, slapping his cock against your tongue before shoving it fully into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears as you fought your gag reflex, taking him down your throat. He held your head in place with one hand , the tip of your nose pressed flush against the coarse hair of his pelvis, as he hunched his body forward over yours untying the sides of your G-string. It slipped from your body leaving you completely nude. Colson smacked your ass, then gripped it harshly, making it jiggle for him before finally standing straight up and pulling his hips back to let you come up for air.

“Huuuuuuhhhh,” you inhaled sharply gasping for breath, letting oxygen penetrate deep into your lungs before Colson stuffed your mouth again. Mascara ran down your hollowed out cheeks as you sucked. You started pulling back out of instinct when you began to gag but Colson held you in place.

“No, keep it in your mouth,” he instructed condescendingly, looking down at you. “Just a little longer” he promised. You tried your best, Colson letting out a throaty moan every time your raw, used throat constricted around him as he fucked into it. “Mmmgghh,” he groaned, pulling out of your mouth “Goooood girl,” he praised with a smirk, before bending down to give you a sloppy kiss, swapping mouthfuls of saliva. Just as he pulled away he let a long string of collected spit slip from his pursed lips and into your open mouth, where you eagerly accepted it, moaning as you swallowed it down.

You let out a breathy “awhhh” as you opened your mouth again, wiggling your tongue enticingly.

“Such a dirty, fucking whore,” he bent down again and spat directly in your face. He smeared it all over your face with his hand before grabbing you by the neck, pulling you to your feet. “Turn around,” he ordered. You did as he said and Colson undid his belt from around your wrists. Before you even had a chance to soothe your sore wrists with a rub, Colson spun you around and pushed you down onto your back on the couch, your ass teetering on the edge of the red leather cushion. “Spread yourself for me,” he instructed, as he pumped himself. Again you did as you were told; you pulled your legs up, wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them back as you parted your opening with your fingers. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He teased the head of his cock through the glistening mess on display for him.

“Fuck me,” you said in an inpatient huff, staring into his eyes.

“Awhhh, yessss,” he groaned out, slack jawed as he sank into you

“Ohhh, shit,” you screamed out , face twisted in pleasure, your eyes slipping shut, at the feeling of him burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Open your eyes. Look at me!” He spoke harshly, cupping your face in his hands as he thrust. You opened your eyes, trying to focus on his, but your vision was spotted by the intensity of it all. “Feel good?” He pressed his forehead to yours just as he’d done earlier , starring directly into the windows to your soul as he fucked you. You nodded the best you could, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, I want words. Say yes!”

“Yes.. yes,” you responded breathily, biting at your lip.

“Yeah, Mmmghhh, that’s it. Fuck, I like it when you use your words” he moaned , shifting himself to be more upright. He then spit on the tips of his fingers and brought them to your clit and began rubbing it furiously, his cock still destroying you.

“OH Fuck!” You cried out, wiggling and bucking your hips.

“You gonna fucking stay still? He roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You nodded your head, trying your best to calm your body’s erratic, pleasure driven movements as he thrust. “Words!” He spat, his hand letting go of your face only to connect it to your cheek again with a quick, yet harsh slap.

“Shit! ...Yes!” You corrected yourself once again, Your body was loving how aggressive he was getting the longer he fucked you and he could tell; spitting at and striking your face again.

“Turn over!” He ordered, abruptly pulling out. “Hands on the back of the couch.” He roughly assisted you in turning around , and you placed your hands where instructed. You arched your back and pushed your ass out waiting for him to re enter you from the new position. “This is where you really want it, huh?” He teased his cock over your asshole.

“Yes!,” you remembered to use your words this time.

“You’re a dirty little fucking anal whore, aren’t you? He asked, he question sounding a lot more like a statement. “Let me hear you said it.” He applied pressure to your hole with the tip, as he yanked back a fist full of your hair.

“I’m a dirty little fucking anal whore!,” you repeated desperately pushing back against him.

“Mmmghh!, That you are!” He confirmed with a groan, snapping hips hips forward, quickly entering you.

“Uhhhhh, Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the feeling. You never fully understood why you enjoyed anal as much as you did, perhaps it was the pleasurable fullness, the taboo aspect, the fact that you were one of the few woman who were into it, or the way so many men were obsessed with it , and the look on their face when they found out you were more than willing to take it up the ass, but you absolutely loved it, and this time was no different. Every jack hammered thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, especially when Colson reached around to between your legs adding the friction of his fingers to your clit. The sensation of your ass being stuffed combined with his touch was the perfect recipe for orgasm and you felt it building every time his cock slid in and out.

“Yeah, cum for me,” he could feel you tightening around him. His words perfectly in sync with the jolt of pleasure boiling over in your abdomen and ripping through you with vast intensity. A series of explitives and sounds you’ve never heard yourself make, flew from you lips as your body went boneless under Colson. He quickly pulled out, turned you back over and came across your face with a few pumps of his hand. He collapsed to the side of you briefly, before tugging you off the couch and onto your knees. “I’m not done with you just yet,” he spoke out of breath taking his softening dick in his hand. Your eyes lit up, you knew what he was referring too— the only thing on your list of wants he hadn’t included yet. “Say ahhh!”

“Ahhh,” you echoed the request, letting his golden stream fill your mouth, splash off your tongue and dribble down your chin and body. You giggled, piss spilling from your smile as you looked up at him, all your fantasies now fulfilled.

“Annnd cut!” Called the director. A few stage hands scrambled to bring you both a towel and small refreshments. “Almost done, just gonna get you guys a little cleaned up, rehydrated, let you catch your breath a bit, and then film the little quick, post scene interview.

“Ok,” you both answered.

Colson tossed his towel over his shoulders and reached out his hand to you “You, good?” He asked with a faint laugh , watching your hand shake as you drank your water.

“Yeah,” you answered letting him pull you up onto the couch.

“You were amazing,” he said, rubbing your back. He knew the come down from the adrenal rush of scenes could be taxing, especially from rough ones . “You —“

“Ready,” the director interrupted, cutting him short, and immediately pressing record. “So how was it?” the director focused the camera on you first.

“Oh my god.. mind blowing,” you answered , still out of breath, adjusting your towel.

“And you?” The director turned the camera to Colson.

“ Absolutely amazing. She was a natural. I’d love to work with her again.”

#colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker smut #colson baker x reader #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #small hands #aaron thompson

792 notes · View notes

lilacsandwhiskey · 3 years

Note

Angst prompts 12 - Tom 💛

Choices

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: language, angst, not necessarily a happy ending but maybe a part 2 in the works, perhaps?

angst prompt from @your-fluffy-murder-writer

Tom hated the way he couldn’t lay down and feel comfort in what he was sure was the most comfortable bed in the entire city. The hotel room was seemingly too large anymore, knowing there was one less body occupying the room.

He swung his legs over the left side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool carpet. He glanced at the clock. It was only 11:02pm, but everyone else had already fallen asleep in the suite. He tiptoed into the small kitchenette, grabbing a beer out of the fridge, thankfully stocked by Harrison earlier that evening. He took himself out to the balcony, sitting back on the cold metal chair that decorated the outlook.

Tom sighs as he pressed the bottle to his lips, sweat from the bottle falling onto his chest. He’s quick to rub them away before setting the bottle on the tiny garden table in between the two chairs. His fingers fumble with the other side of the chair as he stares at it, as if the one face he wants to see will appear. But he knows it won’t.

His mind takes in the still bustling city below him. He knows if you were here, you’d be whispering softly stories you’d made up about each person that walks around on the street. “They definitely are on their first date.” You’d say at the awkward hand holding couple crosses the street. “She looks like she’d drive a Benz. I’d like to drive a Benz.” Tom found himself letting out a laugh through his nostrils, immediately feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. If only you were here to make those comments.

Tom wondered what you were doing right now. It took everything in him not to call you, for the first time sober. There was no doubt drunken calls had surfaced on the nights he’d gotten absolutely hammered. Harry would try to stop him, but Tom never listened. He’d shove his brother away from him, closing the door and locking himself in there. He wasn’t proud of it. It didn’t exactly help his pride that you never once called back.

“You’ll always choose it over me.” You cried. “Every. Single. Time. You’ll choose anything it all over me.” This wasn’t the first time this had been a fight. Tom groaned, pushing his hand through his brown hair. “It’s my fucking job.” “When will you realize that I know that? But you’ve changed. I haven’t even gotten a text from you in over two weeks. I’m not going to be in a relationship with a radio silent telephone. I deserve more.”

And that’s when you left. You had enough and you finallt chose your feelings over your own. You were supportive of Tom and his endeavors, everything about his job, you supported. It wasn’t until the partying and clubbing commenced more than usual, earning you not even a check in text. You felt selfish for getting upset but you also recognize that what the two of you had going on wasn’t healthy either. If he wanted it to work, he would make it work, you told yourself.

Tom was awoken by clanking in the kitchenette. The place would be home to him for the next two weeks, so there was no question that Harry had ran out to get groceries for the three of you. Tom rolled out of bed, not before grabbing his phone. Did he ever call you last night? He checked. Nope. Thank God.

Tom made the decision then to try to get over you. No response to any of his calls or messages was a response to him. With a shaky sigh, his feet carry him to the kitchen, only to hear the tail-end of a conversation. “I miss when y/n would make us those cheesy eggs in the morning.” Harry said, cracking an egg over the pan. “She’d always put the right amount of cheese.”

With a groan, Tom looks to his brother and best friend. “Don't ever say her name again.” Tom pleads, sitting down at the stool. Tom knew his whim of a decision to forget you would be more difficult than not. Harry and Harrison share a look that goes unnoticed by Tom. “Sorry mate.” Harrison responds, giving Harry one more look.

The rest of breakfast goes as normal as it usually could. Tom craved more than his breakfast though, and the craving was almost overbearing to the real food in front of him. He looked over at the stool next to him, where you would be if you were still with him. He imagined what this morning would look like - the type of morning you’d shared several times before. Your knees pressed into his thigh, feet perched on his own stool instead of yours to get closer. Your body would be turned towards his as you scraped your food off your plate, laughing among the people he loved so much.

One thing Tom struggled the most with, was when you decided to leave, you left the family too. Tom wasn’t sure if you still communicated with him, but there was no doubt some hurt when Tom had announced your break-up. You’d become so close to all of them, that you sitting here next to him in the morning eating breakfast would have been domestic. Your laughter would have lightened the thickened air between all of you. You’d crack a joke or two, pushing Harry’s buttons like you always did.

The first time Tom ever saw Harry genuinely get upset at him was when he told him. Harry took it the hardest - he had grown close to you. Of course, Tom had other girlfriends in the past that Harry had met, but he had never gotten so protective over someone like he had you. He was sure you were it for Tom. So when Tom announced it at a family dinner when his mom was poking about your whereabouts, Harry’s chair screeched loudly, a napkin was thrown on his plate, and out the back door he was to the garden.

“You really fucked up, didn’t you?” Harry hadn’t even turned around to notice Tom’s presence. He knew already. “Why do you assume it was me?” “It’s not an assumption, Tom.” Harry is quick to turn on his feet to meet his older brother. “You pushed and pushed her away. We warned you. She begged for you to give her a sliver of that reassurance you gave her in the beginning but you couldn’t get it through that thick skull of yours.” Harry’s words cut like a knife but Tom knew he was right. “I’m sorry.” Tom whispered. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Harry pushed by his brother, inside to help clean up before he was gone to their own home.

Harry apologized soon after but didn’t fail to mention that he was still pretty upset. To Tom’s knowledge, no one had spoken to you. But that wasn’t true. Harry was the first to reach out, someone you confided in. He was like your little brother after all, you’d spent a few years by their sides. Then everyone found it in them to call or message you. You had ran into Nikki at the grocery store. She spotted you down the aisle looking at pasta. You turned to see that familiar face, that familiar smile. “Y/n.” She said, before you opened her arms and allowed her embrace. She didn’t fail to express how much she missed you, which only made getting over Tom harder.

Leaving Tom was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. When you made the decision, it wasn’t quick. You lingered for months. You thought there would be a change that would snap you back into the relationship you held so dear to your heart.

The phone calls were fairly continuous for a while, a drunken Tom confessing he was wrong. You’d squeeze your eyes shut listening to the messages, telling yourself not to cry. Your finger hovered over his contact several times. But there was one thing you knew - you couldn’t say hello to him and risk another goodbye.

——————

Tom was onset for his newest movie - one about a girl and a boy finding theirselves back to each other after a rough breakup. It was a rom-com, something Tom had always been up for, but it felt different not having you by his side during filming. Though he’d had a rather great break, he spent the majority of it sulking and attempting to prepare.

Tom saw several familiar faces walking onto set, familiar with the director as someone he’d worked with times before. “Where’s the lady?” He asked, shaking Tom’s hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Harry’s face drop into a frown, attempting to insinuate that it wasn’t a good subject for now. “Uh, we ended things.” “Oh man, I’m sorry to here that.” The director gave a sympathetic smile before calling for the objective of the scenes today.

Tom felt jittery as it was determined that they would be working on the break-up scene. He stood in front of his co-star, preparing body language to show they were angry. His co-star looks to him, feeding her selves thoughts to bring tears to her eyes.

“You never cared, did you?” She spits. “You know I did.” Tom remembers how small he’s supposed to feel in this moment before the anguish begins. “You are better off without me. Just say it.” “I can’t.” “Why can’t you?” The woman is hiccuping through tears. “Because… I love you.” “You’re pathetic. You’re a liar. You’re lying to me.”

Tom recalls his actions are to become angrier with each degrading comment. But in that moment - he’s sparked. “You really think I don’t love you?” “How could I when you treat me like this?” Tom feels the tears rushing to his eyes, face turning red. “I would do anything for you.” “Then do it! Stop treating me like this!”

This felt all too familiar. A fight way too familiar. The actress is doubled over in tears, and Tom’s character is to feel urged to hold her and apologize. He does, tears streaming down his own face. If only he’d handle your arguments differently. If only his fuse didn’t get the best of him.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Tom mumbles, holding the actress close. He becomes aware of how it’s not you he’s holding. He becomes aware of how this could have been different if he would just listen. The scene continues with mumbles I love yous and a tired girl packing up her clothes.

Tom watches in the corner, real tears falling down his face as he remembers watching you sling things into bags. You had slammed pictures down on the way out. And he knew it was goodbye.

“And… cut! Absolutely beautiful acting, you two! Don’t think we could’ve had you do that better.” The director gushed. Tom was still fed with a lump in his throat. The director reports they can take five, bringing Harrison and Harry walk to the curly-haired boy. “You okay?” Harry asks, squeezing his shoulder.

Tom hesitates, eyes staring forward. “No.” He lets out. “I fucked up. I should’ve handed it all better. Why did I hurt her?” Tom knew people were probably wondering why he was unable to snap back to reality. But that was thing - that conversation had been a reality and it cut too deep.

“I’m in love with her. I am. I know she won’t give me the time of day anymore. But God, I’d do anything for a second chance.” This was the first time Tom had let himself really feel his heartbreak, and he knew it wasn’t the time. So like the great actor he is, he snapped out of his trance and prepared to listen for directions as they called for everyone back.

Tom made his way to the crew, Harrison following close behind. “Keep an eye on him. I’ve gotta call to make.”

Harry walks out into the warm summer sun. He’s quick to pull his phone out and go to the number he needs. With a couple of taps, the phone is ringing. The ring is broken by a simple hello. “Y/n? Hey! Got a minute to talk?”

#tom holland angst #tom holland #thomas stanley holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Gravity

Genre: Angst, Unrequited Love

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

A/N: This was basically just a therapy write.

What is worth? It is neither tangible nor seeable. It doesn’t have a body or a shell. Yet, the endless chase to catch it, to hold it captive, is a never ending disease that eats away at the brain and tears apart the heart. It’s only descriptor is feeling. A judgement. Something either is or isn’t. When it's an object in question, the call for worth is passive, innocent. It’s wanted or it's not. The deterioration comes into play when the worth is applied to a person.

Kim Junmyeon was worth the world.

With a smile that could chase away a storm and a heart too good and pure for the human populace, he was truly worth more than the world. He was worth more than you deserved.

Not only was his face kind, but it was handsome. Beautiful, even. Candid photos were museum worthy masterpieces. There was a gentleness, a softness to his eyes and cheeks that contradicted the sharpness of his jaw and the strength of his body. His laugh was infectious and his mind as vast and deep as the ocean. The sum of his whole was worth so much.

But you were not worthy of such a person. You weren’t as stunning as a sunset over the mountains or as extraordinary as a new discovery. You were simply… you. Staring from afar, admiring but never touching.

You wished you could be worthy. You wished you could be special enough - good enough to be with him. Pretty enough would be something decent to settle for. But you were invisible. A person on the sidelines. Out of the spotlight. You were an admirer - not one to be admired.

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked, your attention torn away from the spot where Junmyeon was standing, laughing and chatting with a few of his seniors. Kyungsoo, who sat to your left at the small table in the entertainment building’s cafe, didn’t even look up from the script he was currently reviewing. He’d only been given it the day before and was still considering if he wanted the part that was being offered to him.

Your gaze dropped to the opened yet untouched notebook lying in front of you on the somewhat sticky surface. Someone must have spilled their syprup-y coffee and didn’t do the best job at cleaning it up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Without moving his head, Kyungsoo looked at you over the rim of his glasses. Even though you were sure you were nothing more than a blur to his eyes at the moment, he could always see right through you. “If you keep staring at him like that, you’re going to give yourself away.”

The ultimate nightmare. The humiliation of being found out. The sweet but awkward rejection that you knew would follow. With his laugh still ringing in your ears, you forced yourself to tune Junmyeon out.

Pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, Kyungsoo straightened and closed the script. “We can go somewhere else, if that would help.”

You wanted to argue no. That you weren’t a coward. That you weren’t going to run and hide simply because you looked at him like he was the night sky while you were stuck on the ground. You used to have better control of yourself. You used to be able to hide it better. But lately, it had only gotten worse.

And you were a coward.

“Yeah. Maybe one of the practice rooms is empty.”

“There’s usually one.”

After gathering up your things, you followed Kyungsoo out of the cafe, stealing a final glance. Junmyeon didn’t so much as twitch in your direction. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he hadn’t even realized that you were there in the cafe for the past half hour.

Kyungsoo settled into one corner of the worn navy blue couch while you squeezed into the other. Not speaking a word, he went back to reading the script. That was a nicety of your friendship. Comfortable silence was more than readily available when needed. He didn’t push or give unasked for advice. He was an ear to listen and a presence to take in when you didn’t want to be alone.

You stared down at the notebook in your lap where your next story ideas were supposed to be filling the pages. But nothing was coming out. Not even the vague pictures you’d had earlier this morning. The only things being called to the paper were the sentences held in the invisible tears you refused to shed. Words of wishes and frustrations swirled around inside the tiny droplets, every letter as heavy as lead. Your cruel mind kept echoing at you the conversation that had constricted the air in your lungs.

Two days ago, you’d accidentally overheard a drama staff worker jokingly say that Junmyeon and his current co-star seemed awfully close, more than merely friends. Stomach lurching, you ran to the nearest bathroom. Nothing came out but almost fifteen minutes of deliberate breathing had gone by before you emerged again. Kyungsoo was quick to dismiss the comment after barely three words from you. The effect, however, still lingered.

Despite the history of your intrusive thoughts, you wanted to believe that you could be good enough. That you were worthy of being beside someone like Junmyeon. His co-costar was stunning, even in real life. Someone who didn’t need photoshop to draw out gasps of awe and astonishment. Someone you most certainly couldn’t compete with in any race.

You weren’t asking for much. Just to be able to hold his hand, your fingers interlaced between his own. The fantasy you allowed yourself to indulge in at times wasn’t a grand gesture or a modern fairytale. You wanted simplicity. The smaller moments that could mean so much. Mundane, to some eyes.

Warm sun rays leaked through the closed blinds over the living room windows. A clock on the wall ticked away the meaningless minutes. Sometimes soft music hummed in the background, sometimes there was nothing but silence. Junmyeon would lay across the length of the couch with you wrapped around his side. His fingers would absentmindedly caress your shoulder or arm. In his other hand was a book, held open by his thumb and pinky. Your own hand drifted through his hair while he read aloud.

The two of you had dozens of endless conversations about books. About the ones you loved and the ones you hated. About deeper meanings and the reflections of life. His love of literature - from the celebrated classics to the obscure unknown - had been what initially drew you in. Everything else was what made you stay.

A muscle in your hand cramped. The peaceful scene faded from your eyes. The page was now filled with barely legible, ink-smeared words. You’d written the entire scenario out, along with your heart, without even realizing it.

In a panic, you ripped the paper from its spiral hold, crumpled it up, and tossed it to the trash can across the room. It missed.

“I doubt whatever you wrote was that bad,” Kyungsoo murmured. He read the final few lines of the script and closed it.

“It wasn’t,” you admitted bitterly. “But I shouldn’t have written it.” You described the scene to him while your eyes stayed trained on the loose thread twirling between your fingers.

He sighed. “You’re never going to tell him, are you?”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re just stopping yourself.”

You scoffed. “Why would I deliberately set myself up like that? Break me the rest of the way?”

Kyungsoo stared at you, long and hard, his expression blank to those who couldn’t read the tell-tale signs that his thoughts were in overdrive. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”

You sniffed, though no tears were yet forcing their way to the surface. “Most days.”

“Then walk away.”

“I can’t.” Your voice broke - just like your heart. The world blurred when you shook your head. “I can’t… simplify it. But-- It’s like I was this stupid lump of rock drifting aimlessly through space, content with my life. Then suddenly, I came across this brilliant star that shined so brightly and… we collided. And now I’m stuck in his orbit. But he just keeps on spinning while my whole world had changed completely. He’s… my gravity. I don’t know anything else anymore.”

“Maybe it’s time to find your own orbit.”

Afraid it might crack again, your voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know how.”

The door creaked open and your heart leapt. Junmyeon stuck his head inside. Had he overheard everything?

“There you are! I turned away for a second and suddenly you two weren’t in the cafe anymore.”

He’d… He’d seen you? In the cafe?

“It was too loud,” Kyungsoo lied, covering up for you like he always did.

“It’s always too loud for you,” Junmyeon teased. Then his face morphed into that leader-esque expression. “We need to head to rehearsal. You’re welcome to join us,” he nodded to you.

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly in response. “I have a writer’s meeting.” No, you didn’t, but space felt like the right choice at the moment. You tried not to focus on the lack of disappointment coming from the direction of the door.

“Maybe next time.” Junmyeon slapped the side of the door. “Let’s go, Soo.”

You were actually the first one on your feet, muttering goodbyes to both of them and then walking down the hall perhaps a little too fast.

You didn’t allow your mind to think the whole way home. Every action was done in automatic mode. Only the minimal amount of awareness was used. But when the apartment door clicked behind you, when the near darkness wrapped you up, when the silence crept in and the empty couch mocked you… you broke.

Knees buckling from under you, the cold hard floor came closer and you didn’t leave that spot just inside the room as the tears and sobs crashed out in waves.

This was what you hated the most. The breakdowns that came with no excuse. They were built up by your own mind, by your intrusive thoughts. You tortured yourself with what you could never have. The attacks were random and it was only recently that you had learned to hold them in long enough until you were safe within your own walls. One time, you hadn’t made it. Kyungsoo had been there to pat your shoulder.

Kyungsoo. He was right.

That clarity was coming through as the tears dried and your breathing evened out again. You needed space. You needed to separate yourself from what wasn’t good for you and not see him. Not even have the temptation to.

This was going to hurt like hell.

The office somehow looked smaller with the bare walls. Since the day you moved in, you tried to liven it up, give it character, make it reflect the interests you loved. How were you supposed to write if this place felt like a stifling corporate desert, dry of any creativity?

Not that you ever actually wrote in this twelve by eight space. This place had been reserved for meetings and other usually boring necessities. You didn’t know the next time a budget meeting or an email check would be conducted here. You could be back in a few months and move back in as if you never left. Or someone else could take over. Only time would tell.

The box that currently had your attention was nearly full. You’d have to come back for the rest. There wasn’t much left, anyway. You took another look around to see if there was anything else you could do at the moment. The monitors were black, the tower underneath - so much smaller than the one you’d had as a kid - was powered off, and the chair that was aligned just so to your favored adjustments was pushed into the gray desk. Saying goodbye to this place really did hurt.

But you needed to do this.

And yet, you felt like you were drowning, being dragged deeper into the black water. Your lungs were screaming for relief.

“You’re really leaving?”

Your shoulders stiffened. At first, you didn’t look up at him. You weren’t sure what to say to him. Being here… it was the last place you expected him to be today. Kyungsoo would have told him, but you wouldn’t have waited around for him to appear.

“Hi, Junmyeon.” You folded up the top of the box, overlapping the pieces so it would stay shut in transport.

“I thought you liked it here?”

“I love it,” you confessed. “But I- I need to go home for a little while.”

“Are you homesick?”

“Something like that.” Definitely some version of sick.

He nodded. “Will you be gone long?” His eyes drifted over the holes in the walls leftover from the frames that used to hang in front of them.

“I don’t know.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This was…. You should go. Pushing your fingers under the box, you started to lift it to take it home.

“Do you have to go?”

The question stalled you. Confused, the box went back down on the desk. “Why are you here, Junmyeon?”

He shrugged, though it didn’t shake off the stiffness in his shoulders. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his arms all the way to his wrists covered up by the sleeves of his shirt. Lately he had been rolling them up. You wondered what had changed today. “You’re our friend.”

Friend.

Friend. Friend. Friend.

The word rang over and over like a declaration of war. Our friend.

The smart thing to do would have been to nod, say goodbye, and leave. But - instead - you opened your mouth.

“I will always be your friend.”

That didn't make him smile like you would have thought. “So, then why do you have to leave?”

You rubbed your eyebrow, fighting within yourself. You lost.

“Have you ever had a friend so head over heels for someone that won’t even look at them twice? But they don’t care? Because as long as the person they’re looking at is happy, then they’re happy. Even if your friend is completely miserable in the process. Because they no longer care about their own self. They just keep looking at the other person, doing anything that entails that they’re still happy.” You swallowed thickly to try and keep your voice steady. By your sides, your hands were trembling at this roundabout confession. “And you want to shake them. You want to tell them to get out. Because as long as they stick around, they won’t look at one else. No one else exists. Well, this is me. Getting out.”

The frown on Junmyeon’s face deepened as he let your words sink in. “Who is it? Will you tell me?”

No. Because this was enough of an admittance. Because it was time to find your own sense of gravity.

So, without a word, you picked up the box and left the office.

Waiting for you when you came back was the scene you had written in the practice room that day, flattened out but still wrinkled as it laid on the desk.

#exo #kim junmyeon x reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #suho x reader #exo oneshot #exo drabble #exo angst #exo unrequited love #kpop

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Children can be assholes

Summary:

Children can be fucking assholes. Actually, they were fucking assholes, too much of a bunch of assholes that Levi wondered what future generation his fellow soldiers had dedicated all their fucking hearts to.

And why did it take him having his own child to realize just that?

Levi and Hange's child gets bullied and the two contemplate their parenting styles.

Written for Levihan Week 2021, Day 4: Childhood.

Link: AO3

Notes:

@levihanweek Day 4: Childhood

I don't know if this is still accepted because it's so late huhu. But I was on a slight hiatus for a while I was in the US since I don't see my family there often.

I'm in the Philippines again so I think I'll have an easier time going back into writing regularly.

Children were unreasonabe little shits and his own son was no exception. In fact, his experience with his own son might have been the sole reason Levi held on so tightly to that belief in the first place.

“Daddy, can we buy the cereal?”

“No.” The response was automatic and it had been automatic since the kid started asking for that damn cereal two weeks ago. During my time we didn’t even have cereal. Levi opened his mouth to say it.

“Why don’t you give it?” Hange spoke up first. Her own contribution had seemed to come out of nowhere especially since she had been neck deep in some research papers until a while ago.

Most days, she would have left by the time they had that conversation and Levi was in no mood to fill her in on it. He turned to his son. “Would you even finish it?”

Luke’s were trained expectantly at Levi, his eyes wide. He looked innocent, confused.

If Levi stared for any longer, he might just buy it. He averted his gaze, and snuck a glance at Hange “He doesn’t even eat it.” He kept it to a soft whisper, too soft that he could never be too sure of whether or not she got the message.

Hange put the papers down on the table then she flashed her son a smile usually saved for insufferable diplomats. “Luke, if we bought you the cereal would you eat it?”

Luke nodded quickly.

Lies. It was a fucking lie. Levi had bought him the cereal the first few times the young boy asked. Every single damn time though, Levi had ended up finishing the box. And he was sick of cereal. So sick that when he closed his eyes and willed himself to think of it, he recalled everything from the grainy texture and overly sweet twinge so vividly, he practically tasted it in his own saliva.

“I’ll buy some on the way home,” Hange said. “The name is ‘Pops’ right?”

It was difficult to protest when it was Hange suggesting. Levi nodded.

“What about now?” Luke said. “I wanna bring it to school.”

Levi and Hange exchanged glances. “Why?” he asked.

Luke was side-eyeing something. A closer look only confirmed, Luke may have been too deep in thought to have fixated on anything in particular. Finding the right words, maybe? “Lunch.”

“Is there anything wrong with the lunch I packed you?” Levi asked. There shouldn’t have been anything wrong with the packed lunch. Levi always made sure of it.

Or maybe Levi was just deluding himself into thinking he was a good cook. Luke kept mum and stared down at his food, only ringing alarm bells inside Levi.

Levi was suddenly self conscious of the neatly packed lunch box he made every morning. Like all weekday mornings, it was lined up on the counter right next to Hange’s own lunchbox. He glanced quickly at it, and he was tempted to go the extra mile and reorganize it. “Luke is there anything wrong?”

Luke shook his head. He was starting to look a little flustered.

Everyone seemed to be bearing the weight of the tension and awkwardness since that question was raised. They were all very sluggish. For Levi, there was more than enough time to take a peek at the lunch box.

The sandwich was packed, the crackers were nearly lined up just next to them and there was a box of orange juice snug on the corner of the lunch box. Nothing was supposedly wrong with it. Still, it was worth a try. “You want anything packed differently?” Levi asked.

Luke nodded but he didn’t say anything after. As if he had expected Levi to read his mind.

Levi wasn’t a mind reader. One quick look at Hange and Levi concluded, Hange wasn’t a mind reader either. “What do you want packed differently?”

Luke shook his head then looked down at his food. There was a slight tremble in his lips.

Was he about to cry? Before Levi even noticed it, he had raised his voice, spoke more quickly. “If you don’t tell me, we won’t be able to fix it.”

Hange was also strangely still. She held her spoon a few inches above her plate and she could have been calculating something. That was the face Hange would make in the lab, when running through an experiment for the third team. That face was a prelude to long speeches on hypotheses and conclusions.

Do we have the time for a long speech? Levi noted the time on the mantel and Hange’s slow movements that morning. “Hange, you might be late for work.”

“Right…” Hange dropped her spoon and stood up slowly and hesitantly. Then when she got to her feet, she put on her usual confident and busybody demeanor. “I’ll make sure to buy that cereal on the way back. If you really want that for lunch, I see no reason to say no.” ”

It turned out though, it had been nothing more than a facade. Levi had followed her out to lock the door and exchange goodbyes like every other day. Then, Hange’s true thoughts came out as a whisper. “Can you stay after school for just a bit? Just see what happens after they drop him off?”

“Why?”

Hange hummed, chin raised and nose turned up. “Something doesn’t seem right.”

He didn’t need Hange to point it out for him. For a while as they packed up, Levi had already been pondering how long he could stay in the schoolyard before one of the teachers saw him home. “You didn’t have to tell me twice.”

Hange’s expression relaxed. She said a soft goodbye. Then her mind and her murmurs to herself were suddenly elsewhere.

She was thinking about work again. Like every other day before, During those times, Levi was reminded, keeping their son safe was his responsibility until Hange got home from work.

***

By some rule that didn’t seem to make any sense, the parents weren’t allowed to stay during school hours. Most days, he didn’t really mind but the last thing he had prepared himself for was a scolding, not from the teacher, but his own son.

“Daddy go home!” Luke had his back to his classroom and it didn’t look like he’d be turning his back on Levi until the latter was long gone.

“Luke, I need to talk to the teachers. Then I’ll go home.”

“Don’t talk to the teachers!” Luke said. He was starting to seem more and more agitated.

What the hell? What type of parent told their kid not to talk to their teachers? Levi was more determined to stay behind. “I just want to see--”

“Don’t talk to my friends!”

Something inside Levi broke at that moment. He had raised that kid and ninety-nine percent of the time, he was a peace loving kid. The way Luke had raised his voice at him, had him almost shaken. The young boy’s face had crumpled into a pout and it only made the cracking inside Levi all the more painful.

Then some defensive instinct inside Levi took over. He narrowed his eyes and observed more closely, he could have sworn he saw fear in those young boys' eyes.

“Go home daddy.” Luke said, more softly that time. Whatever gentleness though quickly assuaged when he ran towards Levi only to push him away.

“Okay. I’ll go home,” Levi backed away slowly at first. “I’ll pick you up at two okay?”

Luke didn’t reply. He didn’t even spare a wave before Levi turned his back on him. Hange was most likely right, his gut instinct might just be right too.

Something about Luke’s sudden change in demeanor just wasn’t natural. Despite Luke’s protests, Levi didn’t go home that morning.

***

Children can be fucking assholes.

They were fucking assholes, too much of a bunch of assholes that Levi wondered what future generation his fellow soldiers had dedicated all their fucking hearts to many years ago.

Levi had concealed himself under the shade of one of the trees just outside the school yard. His fighting instinct was still strong and he didn’t find it even a little stifling to completely freeze right under the tree. At the same time, he was completely confident that as long as he didn’t move, nobody would see him.

They were too far away anyway and the group of children seemed to be more occupied in what was looking to be utter assholery.

“Your lunch looks like poop!” Who the hell compares meals to human waste?

That was the least of his worries though. The boy that had fallen to the ground was Luke. The lunch that lay scattered on the grass was the one Levi had so carefully put together that morning.

Wasted food, wasted food he had worked on himself and the scene of his own son sprawled on the ground seeming defenseless just pushed Levi to the point of just almost feral. He wasn’t a soldier anymore and he hadn’t been in years. At that point in time, he even identified more as a father than a soldier. An attempt remain hidden forgotten, Levi rushed to the schoolyard.

“What’s going on here? Why are you wasting food?” Levi kept his tone almost polite. His own actions may have betrayed it though. Levi pushed himself to the front, pushing a little less gently when he recognized the kid who had thrown Luke’s food to the ground.

That had been enough to leave a look of horror in all of the kids' faces. Levi bent over, cleaned up the lunchbox and helped his son up. He flashed the boys a stare, and he hoped that would have been enough to poke daggers into them. “Don’t do that again,” he said firmly.

Paternal instinct had Levi’s mind racing. When he was thinking quickly, his body tended to act much faster. Even when he wasn’t even aware of it, Levi had pulled his son up by the arm.

And everything else happened quickly after that.

It was only when he had closed the door behind him, when his son had succeeded in wriggling out of his grasp, did Levi make sense of circumstances. The day wasn’t even over and he had dragged his son home.

“Daddy what were you doing there?” The look of horror was still there, his cheeks were tinged a little red.

“They weren’t treating you right,” Levi said matter-of-factly. He was starting to doubt himself though. Had that been the right thing to do?

Luke didn’t seem too happy at whatever Levi had done anyway. The young boy padded into his bedroom, slammed the door and like many other days, Levi was left alone in the kitchen, a ruined lunchbox on hand. He opened it and started to salvage.

The food was still edible and they didn't look too bad. The young starving boy who grew up in the underground city would have been happy to have received that. In contrast, Luke grew up in a comfortable home, with an easy three meals never wanting for anything. And that was Luke’s lunch and it would never be the young Levi’s.

He started to contemplate the small things. He inspected the sandwich, caked with a little soil. He then held the apple slices between his two fingers. All stained with dirt.

When he ran the container over running water, the dirt eventually disappeared and Levi deemed that edible for lunch, for his lunch at least. He wouldn’t serve that to his son. He pulled ingredients out of the cupboards, ingredients for a quick sandwich, eggs, mayonnaise and cheese.

It was a little past one and there was no time for anything fancier. Luke didn’t have lunch and was probably starving and Levi was having a harder time as well shaking that ache in his stomach. He went through the motions a little faster, turned on the toaster in advance.

In those in betweens, Levi let his mind wander. The father inside him then started to ask more questions.

How was he going to talk to Luke about it?

***

Levi had made two sandwiches for a party of three. Unexpectedly, Hange arrived from work early because of some ‘strange phone call’ from the school about ‘their son going missing.’

“And it looks like, you're the strange short man who abducted our son,” Hange said playfully in between bites of an egg salad sandwich.

Levi let his own sandwich sit, or at least his sorry excuse of a sandwich. The egg salad he hurriedly made had only been enough for two people. Thus, his own share had been barely even enough to cover even one side of the sandwich.

That was the least of his worries. He turned to Luke. “Would you’ve rather stayed in school?” he asked.

Luke didn’t answer. He was biting at his egg sandwich much faster. The loud chewing could have been a hint at the least that Luke refused to speak.

“I can get off of work early. Later, we could go to the supermarket and get your cereal later” Hange suggested, an attempt at some light conversation maybe. “You wanted to bring it for lunch tomorrow right?”

Luke shook his head quickly and continued to chew the sandwich.

Levi thought back to the scattered lunch box, the muddied contents. He couldn’t blame the kid. But how to tell Hange? “Luke couldn’t have lunch,” Levi said.

Hange’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Did school get busy?”

“It’s not that… “ Levi was feeling for the words slowly and carefully. He turned to Luke who was digging through the sandwich much much faster. “It’s---”

Luke’s hands slammed on the table. “Nothing!” he screamed, in a tone that was definitely not nothing.

“Luke, are you okay?” Hange asked. “Did something happen?”

“Daddy came to school today!”

“But you like daddy right?” Hange raised one eyebrow.

Luke shook his head. “No! No parents allowed in school.”

Levi stared down at his plate. The sandwich was starting to look less and less appetizing. What was that heavy feeling? Guilt? What else was he supposed to do? Stay still while they pushed his son to the ground and spilled his lunch onto the grass? “Luke, no one was supposed to be pushing you to the ground either. Of course I’d jump to your rescue.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You didn’t look like you were fighting back,” Levi argued. "You could have gotten hurt."

Luke stared up at Levi, a flash of indignance on his face. And for a few moments, the kitchen was silent, the air was heavy.

Hange cleared her throat. “Luke… Why don’t you fight back?” Something about her voice was too rehearsed.

“He knows how to fight," Luke answered hesitantly. For assurance maybe? He didn’t believe it as confidently though.

Hange hummed. “What makes you say that?”

"He learned to fight."

"Who taught him?" Hange asked.

“His daddy and mommy.”

“Really? How?”

“They’re soldiers.”

***

It took more effort after that to coax the rest of the information from Luke.

It came in between banters, in between fights, hurling of unintended insults and it ended with some half baked conclusion from Levi that the military police never really shook off the irrational pride that came with working so close to the king but doing close to no actual combat.

And how the hell did a next generation kid pick up that same abrasive attitude and the bare minimum of fighting skills.

Hange received her own personalized message from the whole ordeal. A message which Levi would rather Hange never entertained. “Did we do something wrong?” She broke the dim silence with the awkward question.

It was late in the evening, Luke had retired to bed and Hange and Levi had deliberately selected a corner of the room, farthest from Luke’s room. Even if it meant having to make themselves comfortable on the floor with some Indian sit.

Levi shrugged. “According to Luke… We did… By not being part of the military police.” He laced his tone with sarcasm, enough to lighten up the mood. The sliver of a smile on Hange’s face was enough indication that it worked just a bit.

Luke’s intention hadn’t been to hurt definitely. Levi conceded, maybe it had been his fault for forcing it out of the young boy.

“But we do know how to fight right? I mean, we’ve always had more experience than the military police officers,” Hange said.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You fight better than all military police officers, Commander Hange Zoe,” Levi said.

“If I fight better than all military police officers then humanity’s strongest, Captain Levi fights better than all the soldiers right?”

Captain and Commander. Very nostalgic epithets.

It had been years since they even used those epithet. Most people in the office called Hange by her first name while Levi was convinced most people called him Levi anyway. Organizing paperwork, expediting processes, executing trades, setting up meetings for the Queen and just knowing the ins and outs of executive level bureaucracy, Hange’s job was indispensable but painfully thankless. Levi's own job as a homemaker which had been raising a child, while his partner worked had also been painfully thankless.

It wasn't like their jobs as captain and commander of the survey corps had been any more thankful during times of war. Just the thought of fighting was strangely intimate but the stress and the adrenaline rush that came with war, the pain of an injury and the very close brushes with death were not anything to be proud of.

After being dissed by their own child though, Levi was uncharacteristically self conscious. A quick onceover at Hange and he was sure she was thinking the same thing. "Maybe that's what we did wrong?"

"What?" The look of confusion on Hange's face was enough of a reminder.

Levi's own reflection had been silent. "Do you think I coddle Luke too much?"

Hange didn't respond immediately but Levi hadn't been in a hurry either to goad whatever answer out of her. "To be honest...I thought about it…" she huffed. "Okay, I wouldn't use the word coddle but don't you think it's just a little bit strange that our child is growing up in a completely different world from what we did."

Was it wrong? Levi's mind was finding ways to justify it.

Hange continued. "Of course we did things wrong we weren't perfect parents but it just feels weird… We raised a child who can't fight? A child who probably doesn't even know the realities of war.” She flailed her hands up in emphasis. “If we drop him off in some forest, he might just die...And now he's being bullied by some kid of retired soldiers. Should we have raised him a little stricter? Taught him to fight?" A tremor shook in her tone but when she looked up, she was smiling. More specifically, forcing a grin.

Hange always found a way to blame herself, an annoying habit since even back when they were soldiers.

A very annoying habit. Levi sighed. "I was the one who raised that kid. If anyone should be taking shit for not teaching that kid anything about standing up for themselves. It should be me."

Hange sighed then shrugged. "Well, it happened. So what now Papa Ackerman?"

Hange must have acknowledged it, the countless hours that Levi had put into raising the child. Between both of them, Levi should have known more about how to approach the young boy and just the thought of putting Luke through an inkling of that same training he went through had his stomach turning.

Admittedly, if Levi had encountered those bullies at Luke's age, or maybe even younger, he would have been more than capable of beating the shit out of those bullies. But, would he even be proud if he found Luke beating the shit out of those kids?

"We talk to the teachers," Levi answered.

"You don't think we should teach him how to defend himself?"

Levi shook his head. "Times have changed. Even if he doesn’t need to, I wouldn’t.” He met Hange's eyes. “I don't want to teach people how to solve things with violence."

Hange cocked her head to one side. “Why not?” Her mouth twisted into an expression of genuine curiosity.

Levi was terribly curious too. Fighting wasn’t one thing he would have wanted to think back to anyway. He didn’t see himself in Luke, or at first glance he didn’t. In the darkness, he gave himself some leeway, some space to think deeply about it and he started to realize, he couldn’t really avoid seeing himself in his son.

The glaring difference between himself and his own son had been circumstances. Luke didn’t have to learn how to fight. The age of war was over. No one was constantly in any immediate danger.

"Maybe you're better off teaching him what you know.” Levi sighed. If I could get away with not teaching my son how to fight, then I’d rather not.”

***

Diplomacy and maybe talking could have worked. That is, if they were talking to anyone else.

"We could launch an investigation on this…" The teacher side-eyed nothing in particular.

"Just now?" Hange raised one eyebrow. A quick estimation and a detailed recall of Luke’s change in demeanor put the estimate at two weeks ago. How did no one notice it?

The teacher nodded. "But it might take some time.” She leaned slightly forward. “I hope you understand… it's not easy to approach cases like this.”

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Levi said.

The teacher didn't prod. She didn't put much weight in Levi's assertion either. She raised her hands up in defense. "Give us time."

Levi gripped the edge of his seat in some attempt to alleviate tension. It had taken a little more time to get his bearings so he opted not to say anything just yet.

Hange straightened up on her seat. "How much time?"

At least it was Hange who was asking, Levi was sure he couldn’t have said it any more amiably.

The teacher’s responses weren’t making it any easier. “A few weeks?”

A few weeks. That was at least ten lunch meals. Or even more than that. When Levi fathomed the scale of it, he was also considering the wasted meals in retrospect. How often was Luke coming home with an empty stomach? “Really? A few weeks? You can’t implement something, monitor our son….”

“You have to understand, it’s not that easy to investigate a bullying problem. The line between rough play and actual bullying is not very clear. We don’t want to be accusing any kids either.”

Hange bit her lip and looked away. Levi couldn’t even make a good conjecture of what she would have wanted to say. One thing was for sure, his fists were shaking, or maybe it was the leg underneath.

“So that means you aren't doing anything?" Levi confirmed.

The teacher flashed him an incredulous look and Levi was starting to confirm, it came out more as a challenge. Well, he didn't care too much, if challenging the teacher made everything happen faster.

"We're doing what we can," the teacher said.

"I've heard that spiel already," Levi said. He needed a breath of fresh air. If Hange wanted to talk anymore, if the teacher wanted to talk. It was their prerogative. "Thank you for your time," he added coldly, not bothering to look back.

Hange didn't leave immediately. She probably had a lot more to say, and maybe those were the same things running through Levi's head. Like always, she had a more open minded and more pragmatic way of navigating such a conversation.

Something Levi would probably never learn how to do. Hange would probably take her time, and even if he did lose her in the school, he knew his way home like the back of his hand anyway.

He allowed himself some free rein, wandering through the hallways while taking careful deep breaths. He took the long way to Luke’s classroom, subtly taking a peek then allowing himself enough of a view to search for his son among the students behind the desks.

It was easy to pick out the dark hair that peeked out from among the other attentive faces. Luke’s head was down. He was focused on a book maybe, or maybe he was just particularly self conscious of everything at once.

Levi didn’t have the view to tell, nor the time. The teacher eventually looked to her side, then a few young faces followed. Levi pressed himself against the wall. For sure he was out of site.

Just to make sure, Levi walked on ahead, he then turned the corner of the school, a familiar voice echoed form the other side of one of the hollow walls.

Kids these days are too spoiled if you ask me..

We grew up during a war… And these kids are crying over a few fights?

And the parents can be pretty entitled

Luke Zoe’s parents… I think those are former soldiers… You’d think they’d know better about spoiling their son.

Maybe the glory of war got into their heads or something. Suddenly they want their kids to have an easy life.

Yes, Levi agreed, he wanted his kid to have an easy life. He conceded to that.

Actually, not conceded. He wholeheartedly agreed with it. The essentials though of that conversation, the fundamental beliefs that carried it were just infuriatingly wrong.

Levi didn’t allow himself to contemplate and maybe he just didn’t have the energy for it. He opted not to wait for Hange, he slipped quickly out of the hallway and out onto the streets.

He took the long way home and part of him was hoping he got lost. He was in no mood after all to discuss ‘a spoiled generation’ with a teacher who grew up during a time of war.

He might just end up fighting back.

***

He didn’t have to teach his son how to use a knife. Still, Levi considered it enough times to sneak a few glances at the knife holder a foot away from the sink.

The first weapon Kenny had ever taught him to use was a knife. But knives hurt, knives kill.

The only reason Levi was teaching his son how to fight back was to prevent any more wasted lunches, to prevent bruises for piling up on his ass to prevent any more scrapes from appearing on the palms of his hand.

"When they push you like this… what do you do?" Levi stretched out his arms in front of him, positioning himself to push.

Luke was a quick learner He gripped Levi's hands and the grip was surprisingly hard. Levi's wrists ached and he was suddenly hyperaware of the nails digging into him.

Levi bit his lip, he forced an outward flinch just to show his son it was working. Then the leg movements followed. Luke was still much smaller than Levi. The latter though had done it too many times during bar fights to tell, Luke had picked it up to a T.

Lock your knee to the back of their leg.

"Then push!"

Levi teetered and he was sure he still had the reflexes to jump away. Still, he wanted to give his son that confidence.

He fell to the floor, catching his light weight with the palms of his hands. "There. Okay? When they try to punch or push, you pull them towards you." Levi mimed the movement with his hands. "Then trip them from behind."

Luke nodded obediently.

"Okay…" Levi stood up. "Now let's try it again. Much faster this time."

***

Levi didn't have to try too hard to teach his son.

Luke had the natural agility and quick wittedness. With the right guidance, he was a force to be reckoned with, especially when facing a group of bullies.

Be it two bullies, three. Regardless of whether or not he was outnumbered, Luke might just make it work.

Maybe fighting skills ran in the family. No, it definitely ran in the family. Luke had natural skill that could have made him indispensable in the survey corps many years ago. WIth the right training and the right guidance, he managed to pick up the same fighting instinct Levi was all too familiar with.

Was it the same Ackerman gene? Or was it just natural talent. Levi entertained that as nothing more than a passing thought. After all, no one needed the Ackerman’s anymore since the war was over, the titan curse completely obsolete.

Soon, the Ackerman abilities would be too.

It was a slow process, and maybe it did start with his sons own stint against the bullies.

Levi found himself sneaking through the bushes near the school grounds around lunch time. The branches pricked, the leaves tickled and the smell of green lingered in his nose and he was already planning the warm bath as soon as he got home.

The situation he had put himself in, reminded him too easily of the war. Laughably, the situation he was roped into was much much milder.

He wasn't there to stand by while his team took down titans. He was just there to stand by and jump in just in case things got too heated for Luke.

Luke had proven self-sufficient in practice. But could he easily apply it?

Levi was watching the developments like a hawk, his heart beating in time to some rustle in the leaves, his hand digging into the branches right next to him. He didn't even notice he was holding his breath until the first body slammed onto the dirt with a loud thump.

Levi let it out with a loud huff then he closed his eyes, recounting the events of just a few seconds ago.

Grip hard, kick hard enough behind him to buckle his knees.

One down.

Push against him, use your weight against him. If you push hard enough, twist in this direction. He'll flip.

Two down.

With a swift strike to his---

"Stop!"

Levi’s eyes widened then they darted back and forth between the boys on the floor then the naturally, the only one left standing.

Luke dropped his hands to the side. Then everyone was silent, the two boys still recovering, one of them giving his own tailbone a consoling rub.

"Boys! What are you doing here?"

With the sound of that voice, Levi’s blood ran cold. By some stroke of bad luck, a teacher had seen them fighting.

"Luke? What were you doing here?" And by a more annoying stroke of bad luck, circumstances made Luke out to be the bully.

***

"It's very admirable that you're sticking with your son through thick and thin," the principal said, a wide smile plastered on her face.

Having dealt with military police bullshit for a good chunk of his life, Levi was fairly adept at sniffing out bullshit. Consequently, he wasn't so good at accepting such a fake compliment.

"What can we say? He's our son," Hange said, glaringly uncomfortable with the turn of events. She had some excuse to seem tense. After all, she rushed there from her office just a few minute ago.

"They sustained a few bruises, on the tailbone, a few scrapes on the knee which required some tending and one of the boys has a sprained ankle." She listed them out like a sprained ankle was a mortal wound. "I'm sure any settlements can be discussed internally… but if you need any help?"

Hange shook her head. "No thank you. I'll make a few calls, see what I can offer."

But they're not gonna do anything about Luke's mental state and his fucked up lunch meals huh? Levi looked to Hange, attempted to send a semblance of that message with his glare.

The principal cleared her throat. "Have you considered sending your child to a specialist?"

"A specialist?" Hänge asked, her voice was a little higher pitched. She furrowed her brow.

The principal nodded. "Yes, a specialist in a correctional facility, someone who could work with your son. The teachers… they saw your son fight. In this day and age, it’s quite alarming to see...

Levi looked down. His eyes landed on his shaking hands. In some attempt to pacify them, he balled them into fists.

"If he proves to be a danger to students…."

"He won't." Levi answered, voice clipped. If he spoke for any longer, he just might end up shouting.

"It's best to nip this in the bud while it's early."

"I said, he isn't going to do that. He's a nice kid."

"We get that from parents a lot but I firmly believe in some prophylactic work… especially when the first few signs…"

First few signs? What first few signs? The other kids were the assholes here. They started it.

They started it?

That was the argument of a six year old. Something, he constantly scolded Luke over for years.

On the one hand, Hange wasn’t letting any of her emotions out as if she was still trying to process it herself. "May I ask… what are these signs of Luke's aggression?"

The principal raised her eyebrow. "The way he was caught fighting the other students. He moved like a trained fighter. Isn’t it alarming that your son has been trained to fight like that, to be aggressive like that? We don't want this type of aggression here." She said those last words, matter-of-factly, firmly, with some finality.

Levi sensed self righteousness. Self righteousness was fairly bearable in small amounts. He was dealing with someone though with a little too much of that and seemingly little inclination of reflecting and getting to the bottom of it. Something inside of him snapped. "If you really don't want any aggression then watch the other fucking kids. My son is not going through some correctional facility because you as a principal can't do your fucking job keeping the students safe."

"Excuse me?"

"Those kids deserved to be body slammed into the floor. My son has been dealing with their bullshit for weeks."

"How certain---"

"Sure enough. My son doesn't fucking lie."

"That's a bold statement right there."

"You don't know my son better than I do so stop pretending." Levi wouldn't be giving her a chance to speak. Hange could have been glaring daggers at him but he was on some strange high, talking back at the old lady who had been rubbing him off since a while ago.

She paused for a moment and averted her gaze, a refreshing sign for Levi. "Okay then, but if you'd allow me to suggest---"

"Don't tell us how to raise our son."

Before he even noticed it, one hand was pushing him back on the chair.

"Please. Go on," Hange said, not to Levi but to the shaken teacher in front of him.

It had taken her a few more seconds to gather herself. Hange had taken a more comfortable grip of Levi by the wrist, under the table, out of view. She held him with enough firmness to control him but enough gentleness to calm him.

Whatever she says, grin and bear it. Work with it. If Hange had been meaning to say anything, that might have been it.

He wasn't going to spare her a kind smile though.

The principal cleared her throat. "Have you considered that you're spoiling your kid just a little too much?"

When the heat had dissipated, when the tension loosened, Levi found he conceded

To some extent. To some very small extent.

"If you compare what I grew up with to what Luke's growing up with. Maybe he is spoiled," Levi admitted. He kept his voice soft enough not to echo in the hallways, his footsteps slow enough that he didn’t need to think too much about walking.

"No one should ever have to grow up like you did," Hange answered with a more serious tone. A few seconds later, she turned to him with a more relaxed smile. "Do you really think he's spoiled?"

"If you consider the fact that if we dropped him in some military training, he probably wouldn't survive..."

"In this day and age, not everyone will be mandated to join the military anyway," Hange said. "So is it really necessary for Luke to have had to learn how to fight?"

"As much as possible, I wouldn't have taught it to him. If children weren't such assholes."

"And I think we raised him fine. In fact, I'm proud of that kid."

Proud of Luke? For what? Levi asked that question silently but he wasn't looking for answers, he was looking for specifics. He was proud of that kid for a lot of reasons.

Some of the reasons, he didn't really pick them out until they were bumbling towards him.

In between classes, Luke met them on the hallway, a large box wedged awkwardly on his side and Luke lost his balance a few times as he carried it.

As soon as Luke was only inches away, Levi took stock of it. A first aid kit?

"I have bandaids here. Do you know where we can buy medicine?" Luke asked.

"For what?"

"For their booboos."

Levi gave Luke a onceover. "You don't have any."

Luke shook his head. He turned towards the empty schoolyard then to the direction of the clinic. "Their booboos." It quickly became clear who they were talking about.

"Luke, why would you want to give them some?"

"Is that not allowed?" Luke blinked at him in confusion. It was as if that question was the most natural answer in the world. The most correct answer.

Levi started to realize, maybe he didn't know the correct answer either. He bent down and put one hand on Luke's head.. "I'll help you prepare one at home and we'll talk to their parents okay?"

Luke nodded. His lips curled into a wild smile. "I'll see what else I have in the cubby hole."

"He's too kind," Hange commented as soon as they were out of earshot.

"That's the kid we raised," Levi said. "You're proud of that?"

"To be honest, yes. We all aspire to be that kind." She gave Levi a knowing but very playful look. "Maybe he got it from you?"

"Me?" Levi crossed his arms and pulled away. Whatever look he had on his face was enough to have Hange chuckling.

"Maybe kindness runs in your family."

Levi's thoughts flew to Kenny. Kenny? Then he thought back to his own mother. She was enough of a looming thought that Levi was entertaining the kindness gene theory of Hange as some potentially acceptable truth.

"It runs on yours too then," Levi said.

There was a pregnant silence between them. Hange's face had softened into some half smile as she stared down at floor, seeming to be deep in reflection.

It was familiar and the more Levi stared, the more clearly he understood. That was the same exact way they stared at every lost comrade.

"If that's true, then maybe Luke got it from us? Maybe if we grew up in a better world, the same world Luke was growing up in, we would have been much kinder," Hänge said.

"If we had the childhood?" Levi added.

Hange looked at him pointedly. "If you didn't have to fight in the streets, I'm confident you would have grown up just like Luke."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're a good guy Levi. Despite your kill count, the way you talked to the towns people, the way you lectured the soldiers back then... I mean, you weren't the nicest guy but the kindness... the goodness, it just felt naturally there?"

It was a hilarious prospect to consider and Levi had to look away to conceal whatever playful expression took over then. "Well the same goes for you then. Not too many leaders would have risked everything to stop a genocide."

A subtle pink stained the apple of Hange's cheeks, subtle enough that Levi could have sworn a second later that it was never there to begin with.

Levi dropped his shoulders and leaned on the wall. "I've always known Luke was a good kid. It could have been from us, or it could just really be how that kid is. All I know is I wanna nurture it and it feels like the best way is to just give him the childhood I never had.”

#lhweek2021 #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levihanweek

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prompt-master · 4 years

Text

Bear Trap (Part 2/3)

Art done by @doodles-by-noodles

Kyoko was hunched over Makoto, her eyes were darting from place to place over his body. Taking in every gash and tear before acting. Time was critical. She needed to know exactly how to treat him, or Makoto could die right there in front of her. Judging by the sound of his breathing, stressed and heavy, she could tell he’d already lost a lot of blood. Well, not that you needed her expertise to determine that. You could just look at the splattered pink around them.

“It doesn’t look good,” She had said to Byakuya. It doesn’t look good. Seriously?

“No shit it doesn’t look good,” he spat out, sounding as intolerable as he did the first day they’d met in the killing game “I do have eyes, you know.“

Her right eye twitched. The logical side of her said this was just how Byakuya handled stress, by disconnecting himself and becoming irritable instead. The emotional side of her wanted him to shut the hell up. She opted to spare him little more than a glare before placing a hand on Makoto’s neck to check his pulse. It was beating rather hard and fast. It was strange really. She felt as though he was already dead. But that didn’t make any sort of logical sense. He was warm, he was still bleeding, he was shaking, and panting. All of this was right in her hands to be directly experienced. But he still felt like he was dead, putting her fingers to his limp neck.

She had a morbid thought just then. About how her talents were used to help after a death, never really before one.

"You need bandages,” Byakuya said, ever so helpfully, “how else will you stop the bleeding? Or did the panic render you useless?"

Kyoko took a deep breath.

Makoto wouldn’t fight right now, not during an emergency, and neither would she. It’s just how he copes. It’s just how he copes…

"Tear up your jacket then.” She stated, “I’m not certain mine will be enough."

She had to spark herself into action. She couldn’t let herself fall to something as simple as shock. She had been given mortician training as a part of the Kirigiri Family teachings so that she would have complete expertise on how different injuries came to be. She could glance at the wound on his back and see that it was given to him by the claws of a Mono Unit at a rather awkward angle. As she tied torn pieces of her blazer around his wounds so that they’d hold pressure - she only had two hands after all - she was able to get the entire story of all the brutal suffering Makoto just went through.

She had seen bodies fresh from the morgue slapped down onto a table in front of her. She had witnessed the aftermath of horrors such as slit throats and dismemberment. She had once solved a case in which she found the victim’s severed head hidden underneath the floorboards in a safe. But Makoto’s disfigured leg, mangled to the point where she wondered how it was hanging on, bone sticking out after tearing through the skin, sharp from where metal teeth caused a clean break: THIS out of everything that she had witnessed in her life was what made her want to throw up.

His arm was also rather damaged. It was hard to make out under torn fabric and blood, but it seemed more salvageable than his leg…she just needed…

"Togami. Your jacket.” Her tone was unforgiving.

“I’m working on it.” Byakuya retorted back, a hint of offence in his voice.

It’s just how he copes. She felt like her patience for Byakuya was a rubber band in her hands, slowly getting pulled in either direction.

“Work harder."

"You should be concerned with yourself.”

Deep breaths. The band was taut, shaking from force.

“Is this the best of your abilities?"

The band snapped.

"At least I’m actually doing something to help him!"

Byakuya paused midway through tearing his blazer. Byakuya thought of himself as a capable man, but all his capable talents extended only towards self preservation. The one time he wished he had the skills to help someone else he could only stand and watch. There was nothing that Byakuya hated more than being helpless. Kyoko’s words reminded him of the time Aoi slapped him back in the killing game. One of the many wake up calls Byakuya had received over the past few years.

He could remember as clear as day, the wake up call that Kyoko herself had given him back when they hated each other. His fury at being incorrect over Sakura’s death, at not understanding the case, had all been snuffed out when Kyoko told him he simply lacked any emotional capacity to understand. Kirigiri Kyoko of all people.

Hearing her remind him of his uselessness now with such a harsh tone. Well, it felt like she hated him all over again.

He was still angry. Angry that he cared, angry that he wasn’t prepared, angry that he was faltering.

"What do you expect me to do?” He demanded. He spat out the words, but his heart was desperate to be given a task.

“Make sure our emergency call earlier went through. Update the Foundation on the situation.” Right, that all made sense. How had he not seen that before? It almost made the emergency feel like a quick business move. He could handle that. Kyoko looked up from tending a wound on Makoto’s stomach, the worry in her eyes made him feel sick. “…and when you’re done, try to keep him awake."

"Keep him-? He’s awake?” The boy had been so still and silent since they’d discovered his mangled body Byakuya hadn’t even considered that possibility. Upon further inspection Byakuya realized Makoto was never still or quiet. The distance he’d kept away from the scene prevented him from hearing the panting or noticing the trembling racking his body.

A simple “yes” was all he’d gotten in response. He didn’t push or question any further though, it was clear Kyoko had a lot to focus on right now. Makoto’s life was in her hands, and neither wanted him to die like this. Kyoko could only estimate the ETA on help arriving, and she was fearing they would be too late. Memories flashed through her mind of running stitches through the skin of a banana peel during training. But she had nothing to work with, and certainly nothing sterile. Kyoko didn’t believe in God, but she prayed that an infection wouldn’t strike later.

It was looking hopeless.

“They said they’ll be here with a helicopter in half an hour."

Right. She forgot Byakuya was even there. She tied another knot over a wound. Despite her heartbeat moving her entire body with its pounding, her hands remained steady. Just like when stitching banana skin shut. Another deep breath, her hands will stay steady. Any mistake could cause an issue. Mistakes could cause browning fruit to gush between the stitches. Nothing more than an insignificant rotting pile of ruined fruit splattered and smothered against the street like-

"Don’t just stand there, ” she took another deep breath, her hands will stay steady, “keep him awake."

When Byakuya came over to take place near Makoto’s head she waited for him to pass her the tattered cloths she’d been waiting for. She ended up discovering he’d already thrown them to her side. She needed to focus more. She was by Makoto’s lower body, only half a mind paying attention to what Byakuya was doing.

Makoto had never looked so disgustingly pale before, and he was the kind of person to lose all color when frightened. His mouth was slightly parted as his breathing continued to take a toll on him. A cold sweat had begun to break out on his clammy face, with a fever glowing across his skin from the blood loss and pain. What made Byakuya the most concerned though were his eyes, half lidded and staring at nothing in particular. His eyes fluttered, but his pupils were lazily taking in the world around him as if he was trying to understand what was going on but couldn’t take hold of anything tangible.

Byakuya held a hand up and froze. He was unsure what to do, all of this was out of his element. He wanted to push it all an arm’s length away. It was a simple task. Just keep him awake. But did he know what to do? In movies he’d seen people slap others awake. But Makoto was hurt, so shouldn’t he be gentle? Why was he even fussing over the method? There was no need to hesitate. He’d touched a corpse before, he could push through any nerves to handle this.

Byakuya put a hand to his face. After an unsure pause his thumb slowly caressed the skin of his cheek in an act of comfort that Makoto probably didn’t even register.

"Naegi, can you hear me?"

There was a delay in his response, eyes heavily rolling side to side before settling on Byakuya. After the first small victory he prepared to speak, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. The delay felt like hours.

"T'gami…..kun?” Makoto’s lips felt heavy as he spoke.

There was an ache in Byakuya’s chest that he wasn’t used to, “The one and only."

Makoto let out a breathy laugh. His face turned into this familiar dopey, trusting smile that he hated and loved all at the same time. His eyes seemed to lose track of Byakuya for a moment, he tried to match where they went.

"Hey, eyes on me.” Makoto’s expression seemed to sink a little.

“W-….where's….” He sounded completely breathless and confused, “where’s Kiri…?”

“She’s right here.”

His head barely moved as he tried to see past Byakuya. Through his blurred vision he could make out that familiar lavender hue. Even with the trembling caused from blood loss he relaxed at the sight, letting out a breath when he processed. He closed his eyes, he didn’t see any reason to be scared anymore.

“Hey, don’t you dare. Open your damn eyes.” Byakuya sounded angry with him, but he was too busy basking in relief.

“You're….both ok?” His voice was barely above a whisper, if it wasn’t so quiet around them Byakuya would have to strain to hear it.

“Of course we are.” It was that rare reassuring tone from Byakuya. Short lived before the anger came back, “I believe I gave you an order did I not? Open your eyes."

To stress his point, Byakuya patted the side of Makoto’s face repeatedly and rather annoyingly. Both of them felt like they should be worried at how hard it was for him to simply open his eyes. It was like prying something off of hardened glue. Byakuya grit his teeth, he had a dreadful feeling that if Makoto closed his eyes again they wouldn’t be opening any time soon.

"ETA?” Kyoko asked bluntly.

Byakuya didn’t take his eyes off of Makoto, “five minutes haven’t even passed yet.” So, they’re both impatient then. Makoto seemed to grin a small bit hearing Kyoko’s voice.

He’s conscious, Byakuya reminded himself, which means that he can keep him awake by talking. But what the hell could he say? His mind felt blank, desperately pulling at drawers to find a single conversation topic locked away in his mind. But Makoto’s eyes were still on him. Perhaps the contact was grounding enough? But for how long? Makoto’s breathing felt heavier than before.

“Why is he breathing so hard?” He opted to talk to Kyoko instead.

“He’s lost a lot of blood."

"He’s warm.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood."

"Shouldn’t that make him cold?"

"I’d rather it not get that bad. I’m sure his hands are cold if you check.”

She was right, his hands were icy cold. Makoto’s hands always felt a little chilly compared to his. Byakuya always ran hot like a furnace while Makoto was always chilly enough to wear multiple layers (I mean, a hoodie under a blazer? Really Makoto?). But this sensation felt like there was no blood in his hands. Wasn’t that a symptom of shock? His body was prioritizing vital functions just to keep him alive. Byakuya wished he could roll Makoto onto his back and elevate his legs like he’d been taught. But he’d seen the gashes on his back. It was the only injury he really took in.

“You idiot” the words came through grit teeth, “getting yourself into a mess like this for us to clean up. Typical."

Guilt could be read on Makoto’s face for a moment. “…yeah.” Byakuya once again felt a pang in his chest. Was that really all Makoto had to say?

Kyoko managed to do something while working that made Makoto wince. Byakuya didn’t think for once, he just continued to rub slow circles across Makoto’s face.

"Hang in there.” Makoto’s face hadn’t relaxed much, still strained with all the pain he was feeling, “I do not permit you to die like this. Understood?"

Makoto groaned in response, leaning into the hand that was cupping his face. Once again his eyes lost track, doing a big loop around before snagging back onto Byakuya.

"Hurts…” he said, breath hitching as more pain shot through his body.

“You can handle this much. You’ll be fine.”

Earlier Makoto felt relaxed when Kyoko and Byakuya had arrived. Their very presence gave Makoto a hope that he’d survive this. But Byakuya’s expression had gone from angry to worried. His eyebrows were furrowed, creasing lines across his forehead. If even Byakuya was openly worried…how bad was it?

Makoto felt another harsh shiver run through his body. His face felt hot but everything else was like sharp winter air kept blowing over his skin. As the shiver travelled up his spine it caused pain to flare again. He was met with a harsh reminder to open his eyes from Byakuya. His breathing felt even heavier than before, each breath taking more effort than the last. Byakuya’s face was shifting again, but Makoto could hardly make it out through the greying swirls of dots across his vision. Ah, Byakuya looked scared. So Makoto was going to die then? The only sound he could hear was his own rabbit quick heartbeat threatening to break free from his tattered ribcage. Byakuya’s mouth was moving, but none of it made sense to Makoto. He couldn’t even read his lips. One second it was quick, then slow, like time itself was blending together into something incomprehensible.

Makoto blinked slowly.

“Naegi?” Byakuya had gone from tapping his face to shaking his shoulder. He didn’t get much else besides a distracted groan from Makoto. “Naegi, can you hear me?”

“Don’t shake him like that!” Kirigiri scolded, frustrated as she tried her best not to let the movement interfere with her work.

Byakuya felt like a life was slipping through his finger tips. His own breathing felt tight in his chest from the pure anxiety that Makoto’s unresponsiveness gave him.

“Naegi if you don’t answer me right now…” his nails dug into the boy’s shoulders.

Makoto’s eyes rolled up, dropped down, fell to the left, all as if there was a weight to it. Another slow blink. More odd drifting. Not a single response from him.

“Makoto, say something…” Byakuya ordered, pausing to watch the boy’s face; his voice was quieter than he wanted to admit. “Makoto!"

Makoto sharply inhaled at the sound. Byakuya sounded scared. Byakuya was never scared. "Nn….” Makoto frowned a little bit in worry. He felt like he was drowning, being pushed beneath thick murky water and whenever he got close enough to the surface to even understand a little bit of what was going on he was shoved back down again. He could see Byakuya look towards Kyoko for a moment and watched his expression fall.

Focus…focus. If he could just make out the words they were saying. His vision left him for a moment, greying out as his body felt weirdly numb and tingly. It wasn’t a bad feeling. If Makoto were to die here and now…he’d be happy to die next to the people he loved with this strange not-bad feeling. It was much better than bleeding out alone and in pain surrounded by the mascot that caused all this suffering in the first place. He could just drift away, and be able to die peacefully, a luxury most people didn’t get any more. If he could see his own face he was sure a weak smile played on it.

“What do you mean?!” Byakuya snapped, he glared at her out of habit.

“I mean… just look…” Kyoko’s busy hands paused momentarily to grab more fabric from the dwindling pile. Byakuya looked away from Makoto’s face and his breath caught in his throat. The limb Kyoko was working on barely resembled a leg anymore. She had done a decent job at cleaning up the wounds but it only made it more apparent how… disfigured it was. Nothing about it seemed right.

“He can’t-” the words welled up in Byakuya’s throat. He couldn’t speak the words into existence. If he did, then it would become an undeniable reality.

But Kyoko didn’t have that same hesitation, “There’s no way his leg can recover from this, and that’s without factoring in the high risk of infection.”

Byakuya’s eyes were glued to the horrific sight. Despite the sight of death becoming background noise to them all, it put a pit in his stomach. He felt disgusting. Like any second now his lunch would come back up. Look closer…it was a miracle the leg was even hanging on at all. Kyoko was right. He would lose his leg.

Makoto, just barely through the swirls of gray blurs and black spots, could see the desperation and worry on Byakuya and Kyoko’s faces. It was only a small thought in the back of his mind at first. Just a little whisper. But eventually it became bright and loud. A scream next to his ears. A new hope.

He didn’t want to die. Not like this.

He couldn’t leave Byakuya and Kyoko heartbroken. They’d drown in the despair. Letting their trusted friend, their partner in survival, die after doing everything they could to try and save him? It would be heartbreaking. But Makoto couldn’t even make out the color of sky anymore. He couldn’t move his fingers. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to get out of this one alive, but he wouldn’t spend his last moments watching people he loves suffer.

“ ‘s… ok…y …gami” Makoto’s tongue felt like lead and moved sluggishly in his mouth. Byakuya wished he could take any form of comfort from the broken sentence.

The fever from Makoto’s face had gone cold, leaving him with all his blood washed pale skin on full display. Byakuya had to pause to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t talk like that, you moron. I know what you’re trying to do.” and he did. Byakuya knew that Makoto was trying to make himself and Kyoko more at ease. Even while walking on a tightrope between life and death the bot still wanted to make sure his friends were okay. Byakuya felt rigid in a mixture of irritation and worry.

“It… d’sn’t hur.. nymore…’s okay."

The words made cold fear run down Byakuya’s spine. He clenched his fists, glaring down at Makoto like he’d insulted him. But his voice was weak, "I told you to stop…"

"Really…I pr…mise…’s not going to be bad…"

Byakuya grinded down on his teeth with enough force to hurt his jaw. He exhaled harshly, ignoring Makoto’s words and turning to Kyoko, "Will you hurry up and save him already?!"

"I’m doing my best! There’s not much I can do!"

”’re both… really strong… you c’n overcome …‘nything…” Makoto felt a lump in his throat, he wanted to make it seem like everything was gonna be fine, but he knew that no matter what he said… Byakuya and Kyoko were smart. They were smart enough to know he was lying through his teeth. Maybe it was more for him than for them at this point.

“Dammit Makoto if you don’t stop fucking talking that-!“

"Tha…’s why I know….you’ll be okay…” He struggled to speak, tongue heavy as lead, and still he tried to make the words clear as possible. He was afraid, he didn’t want to go, not now. There were so many things left that he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to tell the two people in front of him how much he cared about them but all he could do was watch as their distress increased. His vision started to fade and he wanted to scream for it to come back. He struggled to breath.

“Makoto!"

Byakuya took Makoto’s face in his hands again. The light in Makoto’s eyes were completely gone, unable to properly process the world around him. Despite Byakuya’s pleas steadily becoming more and more desperate for Makoto to stay awake, he slipped through his fingers like sand. With his eyes drifting to the right, Makoto fell away from the world.

And both of them felt it with their own hands. They felt the exact moment Makoto lost consciousness for what could very well be the last time. They both stood there frozen in shock. Byakuya still had his hands on Makoto’s face, just watching as if any second he’d open up his eyes again and apologize for scaring them. Kyoko had her hands up, mid-wrapping wounds. She just stared blankly, unable to grapple with the idea that all her work may have been for nothing.

They sat in silence. No one moved.

It felt like gravity had increased, time had slowed down to a crawl and even the gentle whistling of the wind felt subdued and gentle, as if even it didn’t want to disturb them. Neither wanted to be the first to move. If they were to move, what were they even supposed to do? Both of their minds seemed to cloud. Was it even worth it to move? Was there even a point? There was too much to process, too many unanswered questions. Too many calls to feelings that would be left unanswered. And yet the world kept spinning sluggishly as if nothing had happened at all.

"Check…” Kyoko felt some clarity dig into her skull, sharp like a breath of cold air, “check his pulse."

"Huh?"

"Check his pulse…! Now!"

They both jumped into action. Kyoko grabbed Makoto’s wrist, pressing two fingers into the pulseline with enough force to bruise. It was manic and ineffective. She didn’t even think about how she had her gloves on, she just needed to know now. Byakuya was pressing his fingers into Makoto’s cold neck again and again. He kept missing the pulse point and getting impatient when he felt nothing.

When they found it, they both sunk back with relief. They could have passed out from the rush of realization. It was weak, and way way too fast, but it was something dammit. He wasn’t gone yet. With a shaky yet confident breath, Kyoko got back to work, hands trembling ever so slightly. Enough for Byakuya to notice, but not enough to comment on.

Byakuya slowly let go of Makoto’s neck. He dragged himself back to give Kyoko space. The pick up would be here soon. In an effort to keep contact with Makoto and stay out of Kyoko’s way, Byakuya positioned himself so that he could rest the boy’s head in his lap. He wouldn’t be caught dead in this position on any other day but in the moment that didn’t matter. He occasionally glanced up at Kyoko to watch her work, but stayed focused on Makoto. If Makoto woke up he was going to be right there and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away again.

The pick up was almost there.

#danganronpa #naegirigami #naegamigiri #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #kyoko kirigiri #fic #bear trap #whump #request fill #naegiri #naegami #dr:thh #dr3 #dr 3 #fanfic

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Note

So I've seen this future kids prompt pop up everywhere and I love it. Maybe Shouto, Shinsou, Iida and Dabi with their future kids ????

Ooooh I’ve read them as well! They’re so wholesome. I’m happy to oblige dear anon. Love ya. 💖💖💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Todoroki Shouto

-He was on patrol with his father when someone bumped into him.

-When he looked down he saw a little girl with snow white hair, laying on the pavement.

-The little girl was crying, her hiccups echoing in his ears.

-His father had stopped a few paces in front of them, watching the scene unfold.

-Shouto knelt down, gently grabbing the girl by her elbows, steadying her as he looked at her.

-She looked...oddly familiar.

- “Are you okay?” he asked.

-At the sound of his voice the little girl snapped her head up, her dual-colored eyes meeting his own and she shot herself onto him, wrapping her little arms around his neck while continuing to whimper.

-Shouto was taken aback by the action, but what had him almost shaking was her eye colors.

-One grey and one e/c.

- “W-we n-need to f-f-find h-her!” she said between sobs. “S-she wasn’t w-w-with m-me when I-I-I woke up!!”

-Shouto wrapped his own arms around her small frame, trying to calm her down.

-Once she stopped sobbing, he untangled her from him.

- “Where are your parents, snowflake?” he couldn’t recognize his own voice due to the softness.

- “W-what do you mean, daddy??” long awkward pause. “And w-why are do you look so y-young?”

-This boy malfunctioned at the word ‘daddy’.

-What does she mean daddy? He’s a virgin for crying out loud!

-And above that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to his crush, aka you, without messing something up!

-How could he have a kid!?

-The little girl was looking at him with wide eyes, his eyes, like she was waiting for him to remember her.

- “What in the world are you talking about, girl?”

-Oh he had forgotten about his father being here.

-Without a word, Shouto scooped her up in his arms and told his father that he was going to take her somewhere safe.

-He was going to take her to you.

-An awkward silence enveloped them as the girl clutched his hero costume in her little fists.

- “So what’s your name?”

- “Ren...”

- “That’s a nice name.... And how old are you Ren?”

-”I’m four.”

-And so Shouto asked her question after question.

-Apparently, a kid at her school got his quirk and it went haywire, sending both her and her twin sister Rei here.

-Ren explained to him that she woke up without her twin which send her into a panic because they had never been apart before.

-Shouto asked who her parents were and if she had any siblings.

-He already had an idea about who her parents were, but he needed to be sure.

-Ren told him that you were her mother and that they had recently welcomed another mini Todoroki to the family, a little girl named Ru.

-Shouto was ecstatic but of course he didn’t show it.

-Once at the school, he went on a mad hunt searching for you.

-He may not have an explanation and he may not have told you about his feeling but you need to see her.

-See the future.

-He was getting desperate until he heard your laughter coming from somewhere behind him.

-Just as he turned his head, he was tackled to the floor by a ball of vibrant red hair.

-The girl in his arms started to giggle and both of the little humans on top of him were bouncing up and down from excitement.

- “Todoroki there you are!! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

-You crouched down next to him, pulling the two little girls off of him and placing the on the floor beside you.

-You gave him an apologetic smile before turning back to the girls.

- “I’m assuming that you are Ren?”

-The little girls both nodded in response, too busy hugging each other to really care.

-The rest of the day was spent with the four of you watching Disney movies and having some quality family time.

-When they disappeared at midnight, you both were exhausted beyond belief.

- “Why did we name the red head Rei?”

-You laughed at his question, admitting that you had the same question when you first saw the little girl.

-Rei thankfully had explained that once they got their quirks, their hair colors changed/switched, so now the white haired one was Ren while she was Rei.

- “So I’m guessing that this is a good time to ask you on a date.”

Shinsou Hitoshi

-When Shinsou saw the five year old girl sitting on his bed when he returned to his dorm after training, he knew something was up.

-The little girl had her head bowed as she sat on his bed, her lilac locks framing her little face but he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

-She wouldn’t look at him and he could tell she was terrified by the slight tremble of her shoulders.

-Moving to stand in front of her, Hitoshi knelt down and moved some stray locks from her eyes, revealing the purple orbs.

-Okay now he definitely knew that something wonky was going on here.

-She was a perfect mix of you and him and it made his heart flatter.

-He was positive that you were the love of his life and having it confirmed had him WILDIN.

-He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he married you and you had a kid!

-Best day of his life so far!

-A sniffle coming from the little girl in front of him snapped him out of his daze.

-Stretching his arms out towards her, he motioned for her to come closer and she leaped at him.

-Her small fists balled up his shirt as she buried her little head in his chest, her cries becoming full on sobs at this point.

-Without a second thought he scooped her up and walked back and forth in his room, holding her close to his chest and stroking her hair.

- “I-I don’t know what h-h-happened d-daddy! I was just p-petting the k-k-kitty when this m-m-man came up to m-me!”

-He shushed her, telling her that everything was going to be alright and that no one would hurt her as long as he’s here.

-After calming her down (which was pretty quickly), he took her to the kitchen for a quick snack.

-He watched as the little chipmunk, his little chipmunk, chomped down on the sandwich he had made her, a comfortable silence enveloping them.

- “What’s your name kitty?”

-On their way to the kitchen he had explained to her what he believed happened and how important it was that she didn’t call you mom.

- “Kei. Kei Shinsou.” she beamed at him.

-Kei and him talked about the future, Hitoshi wanting to know everything he could about her family life.

-As it turns out Kei was five and a half ,and not five as she clarified quite angrily when he called her a five your old and she was expecting a baby brother soon.

-Hitoshi was shookth!!

-TWO KIDS? WITH YOU?

-Was he dead?

-At that moment you walked into the kitchen, you earbuds in your ears while the YouTube video you were watching was being blasted through them.

-You hadn’t noticed them until you bumped into Kei’s chair.

-Your reaction to the whole scene was a “I’m too high for this” as you proceeded to pour yourself a glass of water and walk back out the kitchen.

- “Oooh mommy was doing magic grass!!! That’s bad...”

-Shinsou made a note to stop smoking weed from now on.

-They both returned to his dorm room and magically fell asleep.

-Having her small frame snuggle up to him, did wonders to his insomnia and he was out like a light.

-The next morning he was faced with an empty bed and a very confused you.

-He had to explain everything now...

-Oh boy.

Iida Tenya

-Iida had the biggest crush on you that was visible to everyone BUT you.

-You were absolutely oblivious but he like the pinning so he didn’t really mind.

-What he did mind however was the little girl clinging to him at the moment going on and on about how someone used their quirk on her and she woke up in the alley.

-Tenya was losing his shit over the whole ordeal and most importantly over the fact that the little girl was a carbon cope of you, with his hair and eye color.

- “Where are your parents?”

- “How did you get into UA?”

- “Why are you calling me daddy?”

-The moment she saw him starting to panic and go into an air chopping frenzy, she climbed on a nearby ledge and grabbed his cheeks, squishing them in between her own small chubby hands.

- “Stop hitting the air! You’ll hurt it!”

-That... wasn’t what he expected but okay.

-After a small interrogation, he found out that her name was Asami and that you were her mother.

-Plus she might have mentioned a baby brother but because of her rapid talking Tenya didn’t get a chance to ask her about him.

-After she stopped rambling, he decided to take her to Recovery Girl.

-The only reasonable thinker of the four boys tbh.

-On their way to her office they ran into you.

-And when I say ran I mean Asami ramming into you with a loud squeal.

- “Mommy mommy we found you!!!”

-Tenya was positive that you passed out.

-You mumbled something before standing up, taking the little girl into your arms.

-Tenya made to explain but you caught him off.

- “After she’s been ... dealt with?”

-For the rest of the way you and Asami conversed about every little thing while Tenya was burning this image in his brain.

-You looked so happy holding her and the little girl in your arms had the largest smile on her face that was identical to yours.

-He always wanted a family and he had pictured starting one with you.

-That is if he ever found the courage to ask you out.

-Once at Recovery Girl you let little Asami skip into her office for her check up and you two fell into an awkward silence.

- “So...... we made.... her..”

-You chuckled at his words, not believing them yourself.

- “Yeah, she’s really pretty.”

- “I’d say she gets that from her mother.”

-You both agreed to go on a date after Asami left.

-When she finally did you felt kinda hollow.

-Guess you’ll have to get to work to bring her back then wink wonk.

Dabi

-He had no idea why this kid was following him but it was starting to get on his nerves.

-It was like he was a mother goose.

-He took a sharp turn into an alleyway and waited for the kid to turn as well.

-Once he saw the mess of unruly red hair with some scattered h/c strands, he kinda froze.

-Snapping out of his initial shock he tapped the kids shoulder.

-Turquoise eyes looked back at him and he lost it.

- Enter internal screaming affect here.

- “Why are you following me kid?”

-The little boy froze at his words and bowed his head, not meeting Dabi’s gaze.

- “I-I woke up here a-and saw you s-so I followed you.” sniffle “I-I assumed y-you would lead m-me to m-m-mom....”

-Dabi continued to analyse the kid trying to find more similarities between himself and this kid and he came to the conclusion....

-That he had come face to face with a mini version of himself.

-He heard more sniffles coming from the boy, who was trying to hold back his tears and pull of a brave face.

-He was failing but kudos to him for trying.

-Kneeling down with a sigh Dabi looked at him dead in the eyes, his eyes.

- “What’s you name kid?”

- “Kyro a-and don’t call me kid.”

- “Why so...kid?”

- “Because I am not a kid!!”

-As Kyro balled his fists, Dabi noticed a small blue flame emitting from one of his fists and he lost it...again.

-But this cocky bastard is stubborn.

- “Since you’re not a kid you can find your own way home then.”

-He stood up and went to leave when he felt a tug at his coat.

- “No dad don’t leave, I-I don’t know w-what to do.”

-Dabi.exe has stopped working.

-There was a long ass pause before Dabi grabbed Kyro’s small hand and led him out the alley.

- “I’m taking you to someone who might help then...then you are going to tell me who your mom is so I can drop you off.”

-And you can guess who he asked for help.

-Shirakumo Kurogiri the dad villain.

-Once at the hideout, Kyro explained everything to Kurogiri and that he didn’t know how to get back.

-To be honest both father and son were slightly panicking with the whole situation but their damn pride wouldn’t let them express their concerns.

-And then you walked into the bar.

-Two really loud voices called out to you, one frantic Y/n and one panicked Mommy.

-You had your hands full after that.

-As much as Dabi likes to pretend that he doesn’t give a shit about anything, he really loved you and the fact that in the future you two had a son together got him going all dad mode on both you and Kyro.

-For the remainder of the day you were stuck babysitting an adult Dabi and a four year old version of Dabi.

-Both father and son knew that you had reached your limit when you called Dabi Touya so they backed off a little bit.

-Everything came to a halt the moment your heads touched the pillows.

-Kyro and you were out like a light while Dabi managed to stay awake for about five minutes drinking in the image of you holding the little boy tightly close to your chest and interlacing your fingers with his.

-He could get used to this.

-Kyro didn't seem to hate him so he must be doing a good job.

-As sleep was clouding his mind he wandered when you two actually have him.

-Is it in five years?

-In two?

-Now?

-Guess he’ll have to wait and see.

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pedritobalmando · 3 years

Text

La valse à mille temps

Summary : Benny Miller isn’t just a customer, he is a complex combination you didn’t understand

Pairing : Benny Miller x f!reader

Warnings : everything here is vague because I am a lazy writer, but there are some references to PTSD and injuries

Word count : 2.3k

A/N : This is my first attempt to the writer wednesday, and I wanna thank @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape for giving us the opportunity to improve ourselves and be seen !

I haven’t written in a while, my english is bad, and I am so so sorry for this crappy ff. I hope you like my ideas though I am not a really good english writer. Maybe I should write in my maternal language before translating to make it make more sense, idk... You tell me please

{masterlist} {taglist}

The first time Benny Miller came to the drive-in, he was arm in arm with a gorgeous blond girl and asked for tickets for a horror movie. Typical, you thought. He might have been planning for her to get scared and to lean into him, a perfect plan you had seen in action too many times as you had been working there for quite some months now. You did not know him back then, and he just appeared to be like all of your other customers. Still, more handsome than average. At the exact moment your eyes landed on him, you felt weak, shy and hot at the same time. He was perfect, or at least he seemed to be. His hair was not too dark nor too bright, his eyes looked like a fantasy you could drown in and his smile, his fucking smile he never took off… This smile might have been the thing about him that disconcerted you the most, it never left your mind for 3 whole days before you came back to reality : he had been a customer just like the others, he would never come back, and even if he would, the fact that he was accompanied meant something. A guy like him could never be single. So you just forgot about him, and this little physical crush soon left your heart. Just another handsome customer.

The second time Benny Miller came to the drive-in, it was a month after his first visit, when he was long gone from your mind. But seeing him rekindled everything you had felt a month ago. Because of his smile, this fucking smile that never left him. As he took his tickets, you couldn’t help but notice how good he seemed to be with who you assumed was his girlfriend, as he had brought the same girl as last time. His hand never left her back even as he struggled to pay, and his smile widened as she put her head on his shoulder. You felt a strange hint of jealousy rising in your stomach, which you felt guilty of : as handsome as he was, you didn’t know the guy. Or maybe were you just jealous because you would have also liked to be this genuinely loved by such a gorgeous man ? This day, you heard her say his name : Benny. It turned around in your head for a whole week, along with his smile.

The third time Benny Miller came to the drive-in, he seemed different. Maybe because he indeed was. His lip was cut, and he wore a black eye. Even his cheekbone seemed darker. He didn’t seem too embarrassed or confined by it, though you perceived how is smile was crooked. Anyway, even his girlfriend didn’t look worried about this. So you just let it go, wondering how he’d look the newt time you’d see him.

And that didn’t happen for quite some time as the fourth time Benny Miller came to the drive-in was 2 months then. The first thing you noticed was the girl at his arm. Not the one you used to see him with. Jealousy directly rose in your stomach once again, wondering what he had been up to and imagining how you could have been this new girl.

“Two tickets for Dirty Dancing, please.” Ah, he had changed t strategy, no more going for horror but romance. You gave him his tickets, and never looking back, he left to regain his car.

You saw him only five days after that when he came to the drive-in for the fifth time. You didn’t recognize the girl he was with, and when he asked for 2 tickets for Dirty Dancing, you frowned. “Again ?” You had always had trouble thinking before speaking, liked to think you were a passionate girl and were directed by your instinct. Or maybe were you just dumb.

Benny’s mouth was half opened, surely by surprised. He had come here to see a movie, not get judged. Especially not in front of the girl he was hoping to go back home with tonight. “What ? What does she mean, again ?” Her face was turned to Benny, and the poor truly seemed concerned. You had just made a mistake, and you felt bad about it. As genuine was your crush on this Benny you did not know a thing about except for his name and the movies he came to see, you ddin’t want to put him in awkward situations even though they could result in him being ditch by some girl you wish you were.

“Huh ? Uh, no, no sorry !” Quick, think of something, anything. “I just… You look familiar. But, you know, I see so many faces every night, I get lost. Yeah, yeah that’s it.”

But it didn’t appear as if the girl trusted your last words. You gulped, gave them their tickets, and quickly said goodbye. “Good viewing !”

And if you thought it would be all for the night, and that you’d be cleared until a week or two depending on how well it would have been with that new girl he brought, oh boy you were so wrong. You had just cleaned and close everything and took your bike, ready to leave, when you were caught by surprise by a deep male voice that burned your cheeks. “You ruined my shot tonight.” Your heart skipped a beat as you did not need even just a second to recognize Benny’s voice. He’d been waiting for you, and just to tell you this ? Guess he was a bitter person.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to presume anything, I just… I don’t know, you usually never come to see the same movie twice.” You shrugged and felt the urge to flee, but your legs couldn’t move one bit. Might have been the attraction he was crashing on you, fucking telekinesis powers or whatever.

“You don’t have a car ?” This had nothing to do with the initial subject, but fuck you were glad he changed it. Your eyes fell on your bike and you crinkled your nose.

“I don’t have my license. Trying to save money working here.” You confessed. You did not have the chance to count on your parents money, and wanted to avoid loans as much as possible.

“You work in a drive-in and you can’t drive ?” He laughed.

“Well it’s a drive in and not a I drive you in.”

“Touché.” A few seconds of silence and he finally talked again. “How about I drive you home ?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. You didn’t know what took him to ask you that, was it sympathy or pity, but you didn’t want to bother him. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” Maybe you just should have taken the opportunity, but as handsome as he looked, and as fast as your heart beat, he was still a stranger.

When Benny Miller came to the drive-in for the sixth time, you felt small. You were still embarrassed by the way you had made his new girl run away, and the fact that he had offered you a ride. But everything about you left your mind when you saw the estate in which he was. Once again, his lip was cut, he had a black eye, and his cheekbone was blue and swelled. But there was more. One of his ears was all red, he limped, and had a bandaged wrist. Benny Miller wasn’t just one of your customers, but you had really no idea who the fuck he was.

“Hey.” He sadly smiled, and you were too disturbed to answer him. “Four tickets for Braveheart, please.” Benny saw the way your eyes were stuck on his wounds, but he preferred not saying a thing about it. He wanted to wait for you to be too curious to finally ask what the fuck was going on with him, even though he wasn’t even sure that day would come. And you didn’t say a word, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Benny Miller was nothing but a complex combination you didn’t understand.

The seventh time he came to the drive-in, he was with a blond guy that looked much like him, and looked way more excited than when he was with any other person. He looked cute, you thought when he greeted you and asked you tickets for a war movie. “On the house.” You found yourself saying without thinking, as he handed you cash. You pinched your lips as soon as the words fell from your mouth, heat rising in your cheeks. The other man chuckled, winked at you and grabbed Benny by the arm before going back to the car. You left a sigh fall when they got out of view, mentally noting to take these two tickets out of your paycheck.

Later that night, when the checkout was closed and you were doing a tour to check if everything was going well, you figured it wasn’t. Benny Miller was sat in a corner, far away from the screen, alone, and his breathe made you frown. It was going unusually quick, and sometimes muffled.

“Hey.” You approached him, unsure about what to say or even how to say it. If he was feeling bad, you didn’t want to worsen things. “Something’s wrong ?”

He lifted his head, and that’s when you noticed the tears that had drown his cheeks. Despite the pain you felt in front of such a scene, you liked the idea that he didn’t feel obliged to hide his suffer. He was crying, and he didn’t care that you could see that. “T’s’okay, thank you.” He murmured, and you felt even more pain from his side.

You decided to sit beside him, he would ask you to go away anyway if that was what he needed. “I know, this movie sucks.”

He laughed, and finally a small hint of joy rose in your stomach. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Wanna talk about it ?”

“Not that much, no.”

You hummed in response, wondering what had happened for him to feel this bad, but said nothing more. In fact, you two stayed there, sitting beside one another, in pure silence, until the blond tall guy he came with finally arrived. He took his hand, lifted him, and after a simple “thank you”, he was gone.

The eighth time Benny Miller came to the drive-in, you had just closed it, key still on the lock of the checkout when he greeted you and you screamed by surprise. “You’re a little late, Benny.”

“I never told you my name.” He cocked one of his brows.

You just shrugged. “Heard it from some girl you came here with. Why you here ?”

“Reflex !” He laughed when throwing you something.

It’s only when you catch it that you discovered it was keys. Car keys ? “Okay, and…?”

“We’re going for a ride. You’re driving.”

“I told you I don’t have my license.” Or did he want you both killed ?

“I’ll teach you. We stay here, in the parking lot, and I show you some things. You in ?”

“Fuck yeah I’m in !” You laughed. You didn’t know how he had figured you hated riding that stupid bike, maybe a hint of deception in your eyes when you had first confessed to him you couldn’t drive, or a stroke of luck.

The ninth time Benny came to the drive-in, he showed up a few before closing time and seemed a little out of himself. Limper, weaker, and full of wounds. Again. He talked with you about small nothings until it was time to close, and offered his help. You tried to say no, but gave in when he insisted : you didn’t really want him to go, so as he pleased.

That was the time when Benny Miller went from stranger to friend. In his tiredness, you thought, he had started to confess a little too much things. His past in the army, how he knew he wasn’t stable but couldn’t do anything about it though he had tried, the nightmares that could never leave his fucking brain, the sounds of shooting and view of blood, the heart he put in MMA as he thought violence was the only answer, or how getting punched felt like a revenge from life for all the bad he had done under orders, how he deserved physical pain just as much as mental one, his brother who helped others in need when he could not even help himself, his friend Pope who could never seem to stop as if doing so would stop putting a meaning to his life, his friend Frankie that he loved to death but was afraid of becoming in the future, all those girls he flirted with because he was too scared to be alone and have no one to support him. You listened to every word he had to say, proud of the trust in you he had and stressed by all those feelings he put on your shoulders. Benny Miller was more than just a customer.

The tenth time Benny Miller came to the drive-in never happened, because he never came. He was gone, leaving you with just memories of him and bribes of conversation that went wild in your head. Maybe he had never been real, maybe was he just a ghost that you crossed path with. Maybe as he so scared of his own person that he didn’t want you to feel responsible for who he was, after everything he told you. Or maybe he thought that after knowing the truth you would never want to see him again. Oh how wrong he was. Because Benny Miller was not just a customer. And that was why the tenth time he didn’t come to the drive-in would be the first time you would come to one of his fights. Because this wasn’t over, because Benny Miller wasn’t just Benny Miller.

#Benny millre x reader #benny miller x f!reader #benny miller #garrett hedlund #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x f!reader #writer wednesday #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier x f!reader #bm

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

I'm so happy you like the idea! Your first three words are: Rattle, Candlelight and Corset.

Oh this is gonna be interesting 🤭

Regretting

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC (taken in by the Winters family as a daughter of theirs basically)

Warnings: Swearing (No Spoilers for any games don’t worry😊)

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Enjoy the mess my brain’s produced. Love, Vy ❤

“I have several questions surrounding this bullshit event!“ Gwen shouts from inside her room where she’s been getting ready for the past hour with the Captains of the BSAA keeping a watchful eye outside her door, making sure she doesn’t get any ideas of running away.

“I have as many as you do, trust me on that one.“ He replies, readjusting his tie. He hasn’t found himself in a three-piece-suit in a long time, all’s been soldier get-ups, bulletproof wests and combat boots. Truth be told, it’s not that he doesn’t want to dress nicely, he’s just rarely had any occasions worth dressing up for. Lord knows he’d be at home in this very moment, seated on the couch with a cold beer bottle in his hand. So to make the truth truer - he actively avoids places and events that would require him dressing up. It’s simply a hassle in and of itself, but dealing with the people at the even - that’s what he’s most bothered by.

“You cannot expect me to believe that’s the truth!“ Gwen shouts again, the sound of shuffling accompanying her voice.

“Leon said it was important, Jill backed him up and you know I rarely get a say when the two of them partner up to support one another.“ Chris says, sighing while reaching for a cigarette before withdrawing his hand, remembering he didn’t take his pack with him on purpose. Claire says he needs to break the habit little by little so, in order to give her peace of mind, he does try whenever she’s looking. However, when she turns away, he’s quick to light a cig, almost as quick as a dying man getting connected to life support.

“You, Leon and I have very different definitions of the word ‘important’.“ She sasses back, her voice now being the only sound coming from the room which is a sign Chris cannot decide the meaning of - is she almost done? Is she starting over with everything? Either way, he doesn’t mind. Running late to the gala the mayor’s throwing is not particularly bothering him, he actually prefers it.

What’s been bothering him is the fact that he’s found himself impatient of something else. Impatient of seeing her - not that he’d ever admit it. Him and Gwen have been friends for quite some time. Well, they did get off on the wrong foot, but were quick to arrange a relationship alike a friendship and function without wanting to gauge each other’s eyes out. Somewhere along the lines they became actual friends without even noticing.

Gwen Winters had every right to be suspicious of Captain Chris Redfield. Not that she was always wary of him or anything - seeing as how him and her ‘parents’ are friends, she never thought twice about the guy. However, when she expressed interest in joining the BSAA and earned herself a scoff from him, she was rather pissed. Being the main chemistry project of an asshole with a saving-the-world complex back in Raccoon City, it’s safe to say she got some above average strength to her name. And that’s putting it mildly. Being rescued from that lab by Leon and getting taken in by the Winters family, she’s developed her own hero complex, the need to save those who can’t save themselves always dwelling within her.

And so, despite the amusement Chris showed when she brought up the idea, she became a BSAA soldier.

“I think we established that on your very first mission, soldier.“ Chris chuckles, recalling that first mission he was so opposed to, mostly because Gwen was tagging along at her request and the allowance of Leon. He was very fucking afraid they’d have to carry her dead body out of there but the action was quick to turn the tables on him - having Gwen save his life more than once. What surprised him most though was her humbleness about it. She didn’t rub it in or nag him about having proved her point. She was just glad they had all made it out in one piece and that struck him with a whole new intensity. Almost like a wake up call.

The door beside him suddenly swings open, causing him to abruptly straighten up from his leaning position, shooting a look at the doorway from which emerges Gwen. Or at least he believes it’s her. Had he not known she was the only other person in the house at the moment, or had he seen her passing by on the street he wouldn’t have recognized her.

And he’d have every right not to: this must be the first time she has worn a dress since prom - if she even wore one then - and the same probably applies for the make-up she’s put on. It’s not much or anything, in fact the only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s so used to seeing her make-up-free face. So much so, he’d recognize even a drop of foundation if she applied it. And oh boy, is he whipped by the sight. He can lie all he wants and to whoever he wants to, but he cannot lie to himself. Especially not when his jaw has fallen to the floor, his eyes have grown wide and his heartbeat has picked up noticeably.

If Ethan could hear at least half of what Chris is thinking at the moment, he’d be as good as banned from the Winters home forever.

When Gwen’s eyes meet her Captain’s, she can’t help but smirk, “What is it, Cap? I exchange the bulletproof vest for a corset and you suddenly don’t recognize me?” She asks, raising a teasing eyebrow.

He knows it’s wrong, for so many reasons: He’s her captain, she’s his soldier; She’s an adult but he’s still significantly older than her; She’s the ‘daughter’ of a friend of his, to make matters even worse - It’s so wrong yet he can’t get the thought out of his head. It’s not just now, it’s something he’s been struggling with for quite some time. He’s constantly haunted by her: the sound of her laughter, her smile, that focused frown that appears every time she is looking at a map or a new case, analyzing its every detail, the twinkle in her eyes whenever she gets told she’ll be going on a mission and that same sparkle growing brighter when she returns from it having successfully completed it.

It’s all overwhelming, and in the nicest, wrongest way possible.

“Honestly, Winters, seeing such a shift does rattle a person. Especially when I haven’t seen you out of a soldier’s uniform for years now.“ He comments, his eyes traveling up and down her body on their own accord, despite his best attempts at keeping his gaze on her face.

She laughs, “Can’t really go to training in a dress and high heels, you know. If I had more opportunities, the dresses in my closet wouldn’t be covered in spiderwebs.“

“Duly noted.“ He smirks, offering the young lady his hand as he leads her down the stairs, “I could help you out with that.“

She frowns, pausing mid-step, “Oh no, no, no no. If what you have in mind is a bunch of charity events, you better get that thought out of your head. A bunch of rich assholes drinking champagne, really not my scene.”

Chris chuckles offering her his arm as they walk out the front door to where he parked his car upon arriving at the Winters home, running into Ethan, Mia and their five year old daughter, about to head out for the night. He won’t complain about the lecturing he received, he deserved it after all. It’s a miracle the two even agreed to let Gwen accompany him, not that they could stop her either way seeing as how she’s an adult woman who’s more than capable of making her own decisions.

“No, no, I know you hate those events. I do too.“ He says, oddly timidly as the two get seated in the car. “I was thinking more along the lines of...“ He contemplates how to say it without making the rest of this night awkward, or mess things up with Gwen in any way. She means a lot to him and he’d hate to lose her over his complicated feelings he wishes he could control. “Dinner under candlelight, maybe?“

He’s as stiff as a boulder, tense and expecting something, anything. Literally anything, even outright rejection would be better than silence. Regardless of her answer, he’s gonna regret this move later when Ethan hears about it and goes to kick his ass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the slight shake of her head, a blush evidently appearing on her cheeks, visible even in the dim light in the car. A small smile graces he features as her hand travels to his which is nervously resting on the gear shift. “Sure, I’d like that.” She says, her smile growing wider.

There’s that same twinkle - the sparkle in the eyes of a soldier willing to fight for the greater good, putting everyone above herself. And, on his hierarchy, she’s number one.

“I’m glad.“

Chris Redfield has regretted many things in his life and will probably regret even more in the future. However, he was a fool to think he’d regret this decision - one look at Gwen’s eyes and all regret was erased. All ass-kicking he might receive for it seems more than worth it, looking at it from the perspective of this very moment.

Then again, Captain Chris Redfield has never been a stranger to a little ass-kicking.

Thank you so much, Anon for this super fun challenge! I hope to receive more three words to turn into fics cause I really enjoyed this experience 🥰

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 7 #resident evil chris #resident evil chris redfield #re8 #re village #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #re chris redfield #chris redfield fanfic #chris redfield x oc #ethan winters #mia winters #original female character #original character #challenge #3 word challenge

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kira-fluff · 3 years

Note

Hello! Have you done headcanons for a MC that is a really good artist? Like, that's what she loves and hopes to make a career out of it? (For the RFA, V, And Saeran?) thankyou! Bye bye! \ ^-^ /

a/n: I LOOOVEE this idea! As a passionate artist myself, this one hits home :) As you probably know, I’ve updated my rules, since you specified 2, I will pick 2 from the RFA :) Again, let me know if you’d like to have different characters than the ones I picked! I went for MC instead of Y/n this time. Let me know what you think. Thanks!

Also, this is pre-relationship and it may or may not have turned into a confession headcanon oh gosh

MC is an Artist +Confession bonus

V +bonus confession

As a fellow artist, V would be incredibly proud of you

Even though he might sometimes have trouble saying it

V has always showed actions above his words

You’d quickly gathered this from his lack of communication with the RFA chat and text messages between the two of you in general

But you understood him, in a way

You related to the freedom he felt whenever he expressed himself through his photography

Because you felt that same feelings when you painted

You were incredibly inspired by Beatrix Potter, your memories of her various artworks inspiring you to do the same

You adored nature just as much as V did

Together, you both made a beautiful pair

You wore an adorable flower-patterned, yellow sun dress

A beige sunhat you held to your head with a hand, carrying your brushes and paint palette

Him, dressed smartly in a sweater with khaki pants

V could carry your easel for you, his professional photography bag slung around his shoulder.

You’d laugh, turning around to look at him, the wind blowing in your face, urging him to “Come on!”

V had never thought you more beautiful than the time you’d accidentally tripped into a meadow of freesias, scattering them every which way

You gasped, whipping out your pocket book, etching down the scene before you

After a measurable silence, you looked over at V who had been quiet in taking pictures of you

He keeps many copies of the pictures, putting one in his wallet and other places he’d look frequently just to make him smile

He’d never let others besides himself see them, but they were the most beautiful photos he’d ever taken, and this not just by his standards of your beauty

You sometimes would catch yourself sketching him during your time outside with him, sitting in a quiet pasture

The world’s creatures were your muse, but you couldn’t help yourself from taking every opportunity to capture V’s every expression

And maybe that’s when you realized you were completely and utterly in love with him.

In those quiet times in the meadows, all along you were in love with him.

When you’d caught V taking candids of you, you always would beg him to delete them, which he begrudgingly would, if you really begged him

But.. other than that, you were positive V had no real feelings for you outside of a deep friendship.

That must’ve done it. He knows.

Because suddenly, V had become incredibly distant, flaking out of your naturalist escapades, becoming increasingly difficult to come in contact at all..

it was all pointing to the fact that he had realized how deeply you loved him.

You in turn, pushed away everyone around you.

Rejection hurt. So much. One does not truly understand it until they’ve felt it themselves.

It came to a point where you had no more tears left to cry, you knew he was gone forever.

Your love, your inspiration.

All was gone.

You hadn’t touched a paint brush in months

You’d been skipping meals for a while, beginning to feel more and more fatigue because of it.

It came to the point where all in the RFA (except V) had become so worried about you that they’d sent Jaehee and Yoosung over to check on you

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d checked your phone

Your blinds and curtains had been shut for a subsequent amount of time.

It had been weeks since you’d last changed your clothes, your hair was unkept.

You stopped taking care of yourself completely, emptiness overtaking you.

You had always had a dream of making artwork your career.. but just when your freelance career had begun to take off.. you lost everything.

You couldn’t bring yourself to touch your paints or pocket book. It reminded you too much of him.

You weren’t concerned about money, Rika’s apartment was already paid for and… well, with no real meal expenses, you didn’t feel any real purpose to continue.

You heard a soft knock on the door.

Instead of answering, you groaned, rolling over in your sheets – hoping if you ignored the knocking they’d assumed you weren’t home.

Any last grain of hope you’d had left you a long time ago.

“….MC?”

You slowly sat up in your bed. It was Yoosung.

You instantly felt shame for ignoring them.. and looking, well, like this.

“I’m coming in!” Came a loud shout, causing you to panic.

Damn. Seven must’ve opened the apartment.

Seven was concerned for you, given the surveillance footage, he couldn’t find almost any instances when you’d left your apartment.

Given your apparent closeness, Seven shot a text to Yoosung, Jaehee, and of course, V.

Yoosung and Jaehee replied in agreement and concern, V, however, said something very different.

// V: I’m sorry. I can’t go. >> [sent, 6:08am]

707: I thot the 2 of u were rly close. Did sth happen? >> [sent, 6:09am]

V: I’m selfish. I can’t see her anymore. >> [sent, 6:29am]

707: ? >>

707: > [sent, 6:29am]

read, 6:32am. //

You began to cry, embarrassed and ashamed, as Jaehee and Yoosung called your name throughout your hollow feeling apartment.

Immediate concern covered their faces when they saw you teary eyed in your bed.

“Oh, MC, hey, it’s going to be okay.”, Jaehee immediately held your head in her arms.

She ordered Yoosung to get some food from your local convenience store

From there, she opted to begin cleaning you up.

Jaehee didn’t want to force you to do or say anything, so she never asked questions – unless to ask whether you were comfortable taking a shower or perhaps, eating something later.

You were not opposed to the help, rather, you felt indebted to them, feeling guilty for causing Jaehee, Yoosung, and likely Seven a great amount of trouble.

Jaehee made quick work of stripping your bed sheets, stuffing in the laundry and opening the blinds, cleaning your room and dusting where necessary

A part of her chastised herself for not doing so sooner, but she and the others were afraid that they’d be intruding on your right to take a social media break or something of the sort.

Yoosung came back relatively quickly, a meal in hand, per Jaehee’s request.

He made quick work of making his specialty – an omurice omelette.

Jaehee continued to tidy up, checking up with you when she’d realized the apartment had gotten too silent

You at last stepped out of the shower, your hair taking on a glimmer, as if thanking you for taking care of it at last.

You washed your face, trying to gather your thoughts as your shoved a crew-neck shirt over your head, opting for jeans and slippers as well.

At last coming out of the bathroom, you at last made eye contact with Yoosung and Jaehee you began to cry again.

Without hesitation, they rushed toward you for a hug, hushing you when you’d blubbered, “I’m sorry, thank you, I’m so sorry” in between dry heaves.

After a quick call to Seven from Jaehee, Zen, Jumin and Saeyoung had made their way to your apartment as well.

They each had their piece to share, kind words of encouragement and love.

You were happy by their words, but…

V wasn’t here.

At last gaining confidence through their encouraging words, you ushered them to the large sofas that laid beneath your TV.

Looking down, you said, “I-I’m sure you’re all wondering about V and I..”

You didn’t dare look up when your sniffles began.

You took a deep breath before beginning, “This is nothing to his fault, but….” your lip wobbled, “I believe.. I think he realized that I had completely fallen for him,” you laughed pathetically, “Still am”

Seven began, “MC–”

“I don’t blame him, really, I never intended to tell him… it’s awkward.”

Zen clenched his fist, “That asshole…”

“And my friend” Jumin quickly rebutted.

“P-please! I didn’t tell you this to make you dislike him or anything! I just felt like I owed you all an explanation…”, you begged.

Seven stared at you for a while before saying, “MC… V he’s– I think you should tell him properly.”

Zen, ever the hot-head, stood up shouting, “And get her heart broken all over again?! How heartless can you be!”

You smiled ingenuinely, “He’s right, Zen.”

Before you could change your mind, you picked up your phone, and for what felt like years, you at last dialed V’s number.

On the last ring, you heard sound that the caller had, picked up though there was no sound on the other line.

Jumin and Yoosung ushered everyone out of the room, deciding to take a little stroll outside the apartment complex.

After a moment of silence you started, “…..V?”

You now heard him breathing on the other line.

“V, I know you’re there. Please…” You felt your voice wavering, “P-please… come to my apartment.”, you whispered a final, “please.”

V was silent for what felt like hours before saying, “……..okay.”

You hung up, attempting to mentally prepare yourself for the world of hurt you were about to endure again.

After a long silence in which you’d zoned out, you suddenly heard the door bell ring.

You glanced up. Only V ever used the doorbell.. always had.

You slowly crept toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves.

Gently opening the door a crack, you took in V.

It had been a few months, but he looked so different. So…hollow.

You moved for him to come inside, closing the door behind you.

“Um, V, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You already know my answer.”

You looked up, tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to ignore his statement.

“V… I love you.”

You’d never seen V so taken aback, his whole face grew pale.

“Y-you love me?”

“Have. For a long time.”

You looked down, “You can go now.”

Yet you didn’t hear a sound of movement.

Looking up, V was still standing there, shocked.

At last, you managed to hear the softest whisper, “All this time….”

You leaned in closer, “What?”

“I- I loved you.. I love you. Since we’d first met. I-I thought you didn’t want a thing to do with me. Thought you’d figured out I’d fallen in love, so I distanced myself.. selfishly to try not to get hurt, but I still did. And all this time you felt the same.”

You were now the stunned one.

“Really?”

V gently smiled at you, enveloping you in a tight hug, “Really.”

Jumin +bonus confession

You loved to create stories

Various areas of fiction, watercolor splashing against crisp, white pages

Telling a beautiful story in color

And Jumin adored it.

He adored you.

He admired your deep passion to create and your love for everything.

He couldn’t understand how you could see the beauty in everything around you… for Jumin, he tended to consider things in their degree of usefulness.

For the longest time, his father and those around him had encouraged this mentality

And so, Jumin rarely sought for things that would have no real purpose – his penthouse proved this point by its bare walls – void of artistic charm

It wasn’t until you’d met him through the RFA that you’d immediately brought a force of color into his life

He remembered well the first time you’d come to his apartment

You gently ran your soft fingers against the walls of his penthouse saying, “Mr. Han, I think you need some more color in your house. It looks like a hospital in here!” You turned to him, a playful smile on your face.

The breath was knocked out of him.

God, he could never say no to you. If you’d ask, he’d get you anything you’d ever need.

But he loved that you didn’t appreciate that kind of affection. Jumin knew he immediately ran to gift giving for love because it was the only way he had been shown love throughout his life…. and, it didn’t really mean anything to him.

Still, he desperately wanted to be helpful, so if you were ever in a financial struggle, he’d offer to assist you.

You’d proudly decline, declaring you could do it all yourself. He liked that about you too. Your independence, your kindness.

It didn’t take long for him to realize he had taken to you greatly.

One day when you’d come over for a visit, while petting Elizabeth III, you said, “Hey, Jumin.. have you ever fallen in love before?”

Tension filled the air while Jumin stared at you.

How could MC be so blind.

When it had been a few moments he’d not answered, you awkwardly said, “J-just kidding! I figured you’re probably engaged – that was a stupid question, sorry..”

Jumin was stricken by your sudden uncertainty, but didn’t make anything of it.

“I’m not engaged. Don’t listen to anything my father says regarding that. And to answer your question, I think I might have an idea of what that feels like.”

His eyes bore into yours, but he of course missed the look of sorrow that’d taken over your eyes.

He’d watch you paint all day if he had the time.

He couldn’t understand how you could look at a blank sheet of paper and write something so poetically beautiful and paint a lovely picture to match

It was all a part of his amazement of you.

He could watch you for hours, humming to yourself while you played around with contrast colors for your watercolor pieces

No other art had value quite like your own

He encouraged you at every chance he got, “MC, you should go into the arts.”

“That’s what I want to do! But, Dad says the arts aren’t a realistic job.”, you frowned.

“That may have been true in some outdated decade, but in our world today people are always looking for something hand-made and authentic. When we research our products, we look for items that have a ‘signature’ to them. Trust me, people want your art not only because it is breath-taking.. but because you made it.”

You smiled at that, Jumin was always one to put a rational thought forward for your consideration, something you’d cherished.

“Besides, I think you’d be happy anywhere you can create.”

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Ju Ju.”

Staying close friends became increasingly difficult, but Jumin wasn’t going to risk losing his friendship with you because of feelings.

So you surprised him when you began randomly, “Jumin, I think I’m in love with you, okay?”

You made eye contact, doing your best to show you were serious.

As soon as he realized you were authentic in your confession, you turned around and began sprinting, flying open the door to his penthouse

Jumin immediately chased after you, both in a full sprint

You screamed when you heard his breathing and steps behind you and so increased your speed

You had at last reached a dead end, but Jumin was a ways behind you.

You reached for the elevator button, furiously clicking it – thankfully it came on the first ding.

You rushed inside, repeatedly tapping the door-closing button.

You sighed at last when you felt the elevator moving up, gasping for air.

You attempted to continue going up to the highest story, which happened to be 320, grateful that this damn skyscraper had a ton of floors.

You froze when the door came to a stop at floor 13. You panicked, trying to force the doors not to open.

In front of you was a random businessmen, looked slightly peeved at the long wait he must’ve had for the elegant glass elevator.

You apologized, allowing him into the elevator along with a crowd of impatient people, some gorgeous women with a smart suit and long hair, their phone resting on their cheek next to their ear, some more businessmen, glancing anxiously at their watches.

As the elevator climbed to floor 21, a heap of people acknowledged their stop, pressing out of the elevator shaft and onto the busy hallways of what appeared to be the finance department.

You sighed, pressing more buttons to go up higher.

You screeched when you felt a hand on both of your wrists, slamming you into the wall behind you.

Jumin’s eyes were glowing from the slight sweat that was beginning to form on his brow

He looked pissed.

“Don’t. Ever. Run. Away. From me. Again.”

You gazed up at him, a guilty expression clouding your face

“S-sorry..”, you quickly looked away, not bearing to look at the anger in his expression, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes took on a darker hue… brows knit together. He was really mad.

“You didn’t let me answer.” He said, his voice deep.

He leaned in closer.. you closed your eyes in anticipation.

He breathed a laugh through his nose, resting his forehead on your collarbone and shoulder.

You blushed in embarrassment.

Suddenly, Jumin hugged you tightly, “I love you too, MC.”

Zen

As a fellow artist, Zen was overjoyed to say the least when he found out about your love for singing

Your social media accounts were growing rapidly from your posts of music covers and original songs

You also had a deep love to playing the harp.

It had taken a lot of coaxing to convince your father to let you pay half and he pay the other of the expense of a 200,000 Won pedal harp

But you loved it so much

And so does Zen

He’d definitely insist on doing a collaboration with you

After the recording session and upload, both your following counts grew rapidly

Comments of all types flooded your posts:

OMG!!! ZEN!! BEAUTIFUL ZEN!!

who’s the b*tch next to him?

omg, right?

ew lol

AHHHH I LOVE YOU ZEN!!!

MC looks so cute…

fyp!!

ZEN AND MC WOULD MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE AWEEEE

I agree!! 귀엽다 (cute)

Over the course of your social media endeavor, you’d learned to ignore the ruthless comments of jealous fans

Zen was worried you’d taken them personally so he validated you a lot over the period that the video was a hit

Zen wrote a song about you (which he definitely serenaded you with):

“your passion, my passion one in the same this song – our communicator of my love to you. your smile each day this serenade a simple translator the time we have means so much i wouldn’t spend it any other way.” - radio wave COMMUNICATION by Zen

The song overtook the song charts, making it’s way to the #1 spot in half a day

You’d asked him, “Zen, are you going to make that a single? You are, aren’t you? Right?”

“No, this is something for you and you only”

You smiled at that, but said, “Zen, love like this deserves to be shared. This song will mean something so special to someone else, just like it means something to me. Music, what we do.. it was made to be shared.”

Zen looked at you with stars in his eyes, taking you in a big hug.

You truly were the kindest person he’d ever met.. and he loved you so, so much.

Even though you may not have realized yet what the truth of his feelings were in his serenade, he knew he’d wait for the day in anticipation when he’d finally ask you to be his.

Saeran

Saeran wasn’t personally one for dramatics, but he loved watching you perform

You’d sing for all kinds of musicals – you’d act for a series of plays

He loved it when you’d act in classics like Macbeth or The Phantom of the Opera

It felt like a safe place to forget everything in his life and just watch you

But he hadn’t fallen for you for who you pretended to be, but for who you really are.

You were shy – something he found surprising (but unbelievably adorable) because you were a well-known actress

When you’d first met him, you were walking outside the entrance way of the theater a few hours before your showtime.

You had accidentally tripped and spilled coffee all over some tax forms you had to fill out

You let out a soft, “oh no!”

Saeran had been early for a nice seat (hopefully away from other people) and noticed a woman in a cute over-sized sweater was muttering words under her breath, picking up what seemed to be endless amounts of papers

He quietly walked over and just as softly said, “…need some help..?”

You were surprised at the sudden presence of a stranger

“o-oh! … yes please..”

he smiled, leaning down and picking up stacks of coffee-stained paper

“would you like me to carry them for you?”, he said

“are you– are you sure?” you looked up at him innocently in concern

he answered by gently taking the stack of papers, “where to..?”

“um… i’ll show you..”

he nodded, following you to the backstage area where there was a mirror attached to a dresser, stage makeup covering the top of it.

“you’re an actress?”

you grinned shyly, “everyone’s surprised..”

“n-no, i think it suits you. i was surprised because i’m watching the show tonight.”

“r-really? you’ll watch me?”

he nodded, blushing at your hopeful smile

“i’ll do my best then, if you’ll watch me..”

“good.” he looked away

“i’ll be waiting” you said with a soft smile

“so will i”

yeah you two were literally so adorable.

enjoy my beautifuls

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