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#you can see where i lost all steam and effort to continue but hey its more than ive done in months!
echoesanddoodles · 11 months
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A little nick study to warmup since it's been forever since i did digital art
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I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕
First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣
Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.
Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)
Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.
Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.
Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.
Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.
GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)
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Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.
He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).
It’s just another gruesome nightmare.
Although… there is nothing “just” about it.
The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.
With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.
In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.
She could come back.
She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.
His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.
Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)
Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.
The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.
It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.
You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.
Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.
Fucking Caleb.
Before that, he was doing just fine.
Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.
Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.
She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.
At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.
He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.
There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.
His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.
Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.
Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.
He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.
She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?
It’s true though.
Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.
Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.
Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?
Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.
After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.
Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.
And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.
With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.
Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.
But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.
Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.
Once, you’d found him lying in it.
Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.
Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?
What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?
Re-enacting my death, obviously.
Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?
Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.
Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.
When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.
He wants to be outside.
There are too many ghosts in his house now.
He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.
He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.
Fucking Caleb.
Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.
Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.
He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.
He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.
He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.
He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.
He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.
So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.
Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.
Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.
Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.
You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.
When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.
Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.
Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long. 
Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...
The glass door slides open.
“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.
A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.” 
You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?
If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?
Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.
After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.
The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.
“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles. 
You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.
The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.
“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.
You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.
Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.
He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.
And it happens all at once on the exhale.
Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…
Finally.
Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.
It is pounding because he feels alive again.
When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.
There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.
Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.
Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.
Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.
He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.
However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.
It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.
Finally.
“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”
You take his words in. You listen.
His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.
But it is enough.
Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.
You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”
In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.
As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.
It is.
You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.
He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.
Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.
And you…
“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.
You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”
Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”
“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”
Well, that’s news to him.
Welcome news, perhaps?
You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.
Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.
Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.
Always alone. That he might die that way; again.
And now, here you are.
Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.
But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.
Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.
And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.
Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.
He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.
“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.
You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.
“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.
You comfort him.
And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.
He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.
He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.
He wants you with him.
It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.
It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.
But he wants it to be.
And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.
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scriptaed · 3 years
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...cause i like you?!
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genre: fluff/crack; e2l!au;
pairing: jin x reader;
length: 2.1k;
synopsis: just the thought of it, no, the mere possibility of it boggles the ever so egotistical mind that belonged to kim seokjin. him? and... her? his arch enemy? his sworn nemesis whose incessant badgering he simply refuses to surrender to? struck with a capricious cold, jin’s teapot of a mind attempts to conceal its steam fall short when you pay an unexpected visit and all mayhem is set loose. when did it happen? how did it happen? no... no, it can’t be... he can’t... possibly... like her?! 
You [4:05 P.M.] are you sure this is the right address????
Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] yes for hundredth time
Dipshit Tae [4:05 P.M.] why would i give you the wrong address??
You [4:06 P.M.] you mean why WOULDN’T you give me the wrong address..
You [4:06 P.M.] is that loser even home? 
Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] yeah, he should be. he was texting me about how bored he was just a while ago.
You [4:06 P.M.] wait.. he was texting you?? I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE WORRIED CAUSE HE WAS BEDRIDDEN AND WASN’T RESPONDING???
Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] uh… yeah, he was :) I swear :) which is exactly why you’re there because YOU have a car and I don’t! 
Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] aren't I a good wingman? :)
You [4:06 P.M.] I DON'T LIKE HIM 
Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M.] awww I can see you blushing through text you
You [4:06 P.M.] I hate your guts also why isn’t he answering the door
Dipshit Tae [4:06 P.M] he’s not?? try ringing the doorbell
You [4:07 P.M.] you think I haven’t, dumbass? 
Dipshit Tae [4:07 P.M.] hold on, let me call him 
"God," your breath marks the air in white puffs as you pace in place before his house, "hurry up—"
—swoosh, the door opens magically and, lo and behold, there stands the devilish man himself, Kim Seokjin… except unlike the formidable foe, this skeptical phenomenon stands before you, lips gaping and doe-like eyes widening in utter shock rendered by your presence. You only manage a quick scan of his donned baby pink bathrobe matched with pink bunny slippers until the both of you practically jump back into an ephemeral moment seemingly frozen in time. 
Just as his phone rings, Jin quickly slams the door on you. His efforts prove fruitless, however, once you somehow manage to stick your foot in between his doorframe and the merciless force of his, which fortunately comes to an abrupt stop before your potential stop to the emergency room. There are trivial incidents like these—when he ignores the itch to tease you on the days you wear a frown or when he reluctantly chooses to lose an argument although you are very clearly in the wrong—that you bestow him the honorable badge of consideration… but the stubborn part of you theorizes he’s just trying to avoid a hefty hospital fee. 
“Ahem, ahem,” the boy feigns a cough into his phone, “Taehyung, can’t you tell I’m sick?”
Scoffing into the air, you call out loudly, “sick enough to slam the door so hard—”
“—ahem,” he shoots you a death glare, “sorry, I’m just so very sick. Can’t talk. Need my beauty sleep. Bye—”
“—beauty sleep?! You? Beauty?” 
It’s almost impossible to hold in your cackles; in fact, it takes you only a split second to surrender to the crackling fireworks of your laughter. The quip’s effect is shortly lived, however, when his unusual lengthy silence has you gradually settling into the cold winter air beside him. With his eyes glaring at you from underneath the dampened locks of his bangs clearly fresh out of the shower, it’s nearly impossible to deny the tiniest thought that flashes across your mind.
Sometimes, just sometimes, Jin’s pretty damn hot. 
“Are you here to tease me or what?” he retorts, burying the phone into the fluff that is his robe. “I’m not in the mood.”
“What? Pshhh,” you wave a dismissive spare hand, “silly, no!” 
“Then?” he quirks a brow whilst slowly guarding himself behind the door. “Are you here to watch me wither on my deathbed?” 
“No, will you please just let me in? I’m freezing here. I heard you were sick and classes just became too quiet without you—” and when the boy remains unconvinced by your pleas, you let out a loud sigh as your hand raises to reveal a bag of much needed warm soup “—I have food.”
He immediately swings the door wide open, “come right on in.”
“Wow, so you’re not in the mood for me but you’re in the mood for food?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rolling your eyes at his 90 degree bow, you march your way into his halls and directly to the kitchen as you have done so in the many times you had unfortunately been paired with the most self-absorbed classmate for a group project. At this point, you know his everything like the back of your hand. From his house and his obsession with pink to his hobbies and his quirky dialogue, you, his sworn nemesis, probably know him even better than his friends… and oddly enough, you take pride in that—although you’ll never admit it. 
“So,” you say nonchalantly as you set out the utensils on his kitchen island, “what could possibly be going on in that peculiar mind of yours?”  
“Peculiar? Aw, did Y/N just call me unique?” he snorts. “I said I wasn’t in the mood for you, not anything else.”
“Okay, so,” you gesture for him to dig in despite the evident hesitation in his eyes once he seats himself across from you, “why me specifically?”
“Cause—” he stares at you confidently but struggles to spill before playing with his spoon “—cause something’s been on my mind.”
You flash a cheeky grin, “you mean I’ve been on your mind?” 
“What?!” he almost springs from his seat in absolute denial, leaning forward across the counter enough for you to take a step back. “No! Wooow, that’s just… that’s… preposterous!” 
“Alright, alright, I was just joking,” you raise two merciful hands but leave the latter half of the sentiment to yourself—because who even uses the word preposterous nowadays? Your silence, however, rightfully ends when you notice him constantly probing around at the congee, as if looking for something lurking in the soup. “Don’t worry, Jin, I didn’t poison it.” 
“Ah,” he nods, thereby confirming your completely accurate reading of his mind. 
When another second passes and you’re finally at a loss for how to prolong a conversation with Jin, you subtly join in on his silent nods; but with each succeeding nod, you begin to notice his cheeks gradually burning a flush shade of pink much stronger than his robe. 
“Jin,” you frown, “are you okay? Your face is turning really red—”
“—it’s probably the steam from the bowl,” he blurts, eyes quickly averting to his bowl before downing a big spoonful of soup into his perpetually ravenous stomach, leaving you little to no time left for you to retort. An unsettling silence follows—an undeniable rarity between the rowdy atmosphere between you two—and you begin to wonder what exactly are you staying silent for. 
You can’t possibly be… waiting for his reaction to your cooking, are you? Why does it even matter to you? Why did the flow of things become so awkward? And why is he so… jumpy? Something must be definitely off today, but, oddly enough, you don’t exactly mind this change of pace from your usual bickering comedy duo selves.
Whatever it is, the silence is deafening and you swear he can even hear you gulp. 
“Did you…” he scrunches his brows and sets his spoon to the bowl with a clink, “...did you cook this?”
“Yeah, I did,” you follow suit with a frown, “is there something wrong with it…?”
“Yeah, no, of course you did,” he leans back into his seat with a loud huff and a cross of the arms, “you added too much salt.”
“Hey! What’re you imply—”
“—but,” he cocks his head, frowning as he drowns himself deep in his nonsensical thoughts, “it just doesn’t make sense…”
“Hello? Earth to Jin?” you wave a hand across his lost gaze that remains affixed to his mystery of a meal. “What are you going on about now?” 
“There’s too much salt in this soup. So, theoretically,” his two parallel hands tap the table sequentially, as if marking some sort of a complex timeline, “this should be a terrible meal… but…”
“But…?”
It takes everything in Jin to squeeze the grand reveal out of his zipped lips and very reluctantly so. 
“But… why does it taste so good?” The utter concentration in his dartlike eyes and sheer conviction in his nearly convincing albeit silly argument makes it almost sound like he’s questioning himself, especially when he continues rambling without your response—although, really, you had nothing but a flabbergasted look. “Everything you make should theoretically taste bad but why, when it’s you and only you, does it taste… so good? It makes me—” he clutches his chest dramatically, but noticeably on the opposite side of where his heart should’ve been, and locks a quizzical, almost desperate gaze with you “—so warm and fuzzy inside?”
“You mean your heart?” you point at his chest. “It’s on the opposite side, Jin.”
“And why,” he gasps for breath like a mad man, an emotionally mad and a mentally mad man, “why do I always let you tease me? Why do I let you win? I’m Jin, Kim Seokjin, for God’s sake! I never lose! And the most confusing part of it is: why do I always supposedly smile whenever I argue with you?!”
“Oh, can confirm, you definitely do that.”
He points an accusatory finger at you, “you do, too!” 
“What?” you gawk. “Do not!”
“Taehyung said so!” 
“I do?”
The both of you challenge the other in a stare off, eventually and silently admitting a mutual defeat to the subtle nagging side of you that had always taken note of that true albeit irking fact. 
“It just doesn’t make sense…” he begins pacing back and forth with a finger to his pursed lips. “I never had problems with my beauty sleep until I met you… I never lowered my food standards to such devastating levels until you started feeding me… I never enjoyed having someone trying to get under my skin until you came into my life… it all doesn’t make sense. The only possibility I can narrow it down to is—”
“—wait, Jin, are you—”
“—is it all cause I like you?!”
The both of your jaws drop open, possibly to the floor, staring at the other as if whatever had slipped from his mouth was the most preposterous thing he had ever suggested! In retrospect and to the general public, you know you should have seen this coming from a mile away. It’s impossible not to acknowledge the several times the lines between a vigorous argument and a flirty quarrel became blurred; but to you, the offensive enemy participating in a never-ending duel with the infamous Kim Seokjin, there’s nothing you could’ve done to anticipate this confession pulled out of thin air. 
Did you like it? 
The possibility of being something more than a fervent pair of enemies and a questionable pair of friends? 
Your mind says it’s unsure, but your smile says much more. 
You have to get out of this house, anywhere but here before the opposing enemy catches onto his advancement.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’re you smiling at? You’re the reason I’ve been losing sleep!” he warns sternly, pointing a finger at you whilst you gather your things. “Hey, you must be the reason I’m sick right now! Take accountability!”
“You mean I’m the reason why you’re lovesick now?” you stick a tongue out as you head out the kitchen and you can’t help but laugh at the way he follows like a lost puppy. “What? You want me to make more of my terrible food in return?”
“What? No, shut up! Hey, hey, hey!” he stutters over his own scramble of words, watching you pacing around his front entrance and calling out to you from the hallway. “Where are you going? I think I just confessed to you? No, I’m pretty sure I just did!”
You shrug, “and?” 
“And what’s your answer?” he throws his hand in the air, as if his mental stability depended on your very response. “Is it a yes or no? Do you like me, too?”
“Umm… I don’t know,” you hum, “I’ll let you know over dinner? At 6?” 
His eyes glimmer with hope, “d-dinner?”
“Yeah,” you reply with a cheeky grin before quipping, “hey, why’s your cheek so red?”
A loud huff of his follows your series of cackles and you can hear his last remark that has you undeniably smiling from ear to ear even through the closed door behind you. 
“Damn it, you know it’s cause I like you!”
425 notes · View notes
itjazzbicch · 3 years
Text
2-0
Pairing:  Matt Jackson x Fem Reader
Summary: Based off Surging Waves:
The reader and Matt have a wonderful first date that ended with some spice and created a strong bond between them. With a busy schedule, the reader tries to make some time for them and they do find time in the ring, learning their ring chemistry and then some...
Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Requested by:  No one (But I hope you all enjoy!)
Word Count:  2043
Tag List: @demonqueen29​ @jessiebean00​ @new-zealand-chic​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @justamess44​ @thatpanpal​ @hungmanhorsecarriage​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​  @linziland13​ @xxx-jazz-xxx​ @writtingrose​
I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF
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[Hey Matt, I know we’ve both been busy lately, but here in the city, I have my own ring. Wanna hang out and get some training in? Here’s the address if you decide to come]
A true connection was established during my first date with Matt, that connection making my heart ache a little every time he was away.
It had been a little over a week since we had time to ourselves because of how filled our schedules were but with a day between shows in the same city, I figured this would be the perfect opportunity.
I was hoping I didn’t come off as clingy or desperate by that message. Not receiving a response was a bad sign in my eyes.
An hour had passed when I gave up. Matt wasn’t coming. With a tense, angry hand, I snatched my sweat towel, ready to exit the ring, but then I heard knocking on the door.
“It’s open!” My voice echoed throughout the room, eyes exploding with happiness and relief at the sight of Matt walking through the door with a gym bay.
“Nice ring!” Matt complimented, finding the apron and jumping up, getting a good feel of the ropes, “Man, I don’t think our crew even does this good!”
“Thanks,” I appreciated, “I put a lot into this ring.”
Matt always knew how to make my eyes lock onto him, adoring his tye-dye t-shirt, but enjoying the show much more when he revealed his bare chest, his abs built and tone, tossing his shirt off.
I was enraptured by his every move but also distracted and just able to roll out of the way when he jumped off the top rope and into the ring, coming at me.
A sharp wheeze made my chest seize, exhaling deeply in the corner, stressing, “What was that about?”
“I told you, next time we’re in a ring, we’re having a match,” Matt recalled, “Remember?”
That was during our first kiss and I remembered, clear as day.
A fiendish, playful smile was my response; nodding my head when I stood up in the corner across from him, smiling, “Oh, I remember. Remember what I told you? Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”
It was hard not to laugh when Matt turned away, as if there was a timekeeper's area, yelling, “Ring the bell! Ding! Ding! Ding!”
The first thing we did was get into a lock-up and this time, I actually had to use a good bit of strength. Matt was a lot strong than I anticipated, but I was able to keep up.
I tried keeping it simple with some chain wrestling, but our pace picked up a lot, especially since I was a high flyer. I was so used to moving so fast.
Lucha rolls, jumping off the ropes, dropkicks, arm drags, cross bodies; If we were on Dynamite, the fans would eat it up. We were basically wrestling a real match and it was astonishing how evenly matched we were.
All that fast-paced wrestling was wearing me down, so I decided to go for a pin. Matt and I’s hands were interlocked, trying to overpower one another, but I swept out his leg, then jumped on top of him.
With my head pressed hard against his shoulder, pinning him down to the mat, I called out, “One! Two!”
He kicked out and I tried again, pushing my head against his other shoulder, yelling, “One! Two!”
Matt was truly proving his strength, almost breaking my hold, trying to throw me off with a thrust of his hips upwards, but with a loud groan, I pushed them back down, keeping mine pinned against his.
Silence fell between us, a desirous look in his eyes when our eyes met, both of our chests heaving.
“Got damn it, I can’t take it anymore,” He heaved, breaking my hold and sitting up, cradling my face with both hands, powerful zealousness in his lips when they met mine.
His passion was so strong and stirring, small trembles radiating through his body, tensed up muscles that made his arms latch around my waist, keeping me in a warm embrace.
All those feelings flowing between us continued to grow stronger as my reaction was to return an even more spirituous kiss, my hands now cradling his face.
We probably could’ve kissed each other to the point where we stopped breathing and collapsed, but the sound of our lips popping free echoed in the room, the look of lust being shared between us.
“God, have I missed that,” Matt confessed, taking the moment to catch his breath.
“Really?” I whispered shyly; swimming in those deep brown eyes made me a little nervous. Everything about him was so striking, anything he did made my heart flutter and that intensified the second I felt his lips against mine.
“Yes,” He assured, chuckling like I was speaking nonsense, but the lust came back and kicked in hard, making me even more flustered, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and it feels so good to have what I want.”
Knowing that we were experiencing the same emotions regarding one another made that nervousness fade away, getting what I wanted to, kissing him along with a scruff of his beard.
I fell in deep, getting lost and we began to think unconsciously, our bodies beginning to move together.
“What do you think of turning this match into a submission match, hm?” Matt offered, thrusting his hips into me gently.
“You think you can make me tap out?” I snickered, shaking from arousal when his hands pinned my hips to his, biting at my lower lip and growling:
“I know I can.”
“I’d love to see you try,” I grinned, slowly grinding against him, able to feel how the tension bulging between his thighs, his erect cock creating tight friction against his shorts.
“Oh, I’m going to,” He pledged, swapping positions and slamming me against the mat.
Clothes were flung all over the ring, shoes kicked out to the floor. For a moment, I couldn’t believe I was doing this in my ring, but the emotions between made me careless.
Only focused on Matt, kneeling back down to the canvas, hand giving soft strokes, attending to the length and thickness of his cock.
Stars were spinning around my head already, my brain so pleasurably dazed that I had my own, slow-motion view, but the speed of our movements caught up to me.
Our skin was hot pressed together, stinging steaming trapped and it wasn’t going to get any cooler from here.
His smile against my lips showed his excitement, enjoying the squish of my thighs when he spread them wide.
Sweat was forming and I was filled with heat, moaning against his lips, looking down for a moment to see his cock slowly disappear inside me, inch by inch.
My body showed how hungry I was for this, walls keeping ahold of him and not wanting to ever let go, slicking him so much already.
I could feel him being milked with every thrust, fighting some noise that could be declared sinful, feeling a pinch in my lower core that made me groan, “ugh!”
“You hiding your moans? Don’t act all tough “ He panted, holding my face by the jaw, sloppily kissing, “I know every noise you’ll make will be beautiful.”
“Ugh!” I gasped, still registering that pinch, “M-Matt!”
It made my body tremble, my brain having to process every move he made because it was so overloaded with pleasure and bliss, his pace quickening to satisfy both our needs.
A hand got tangled in his hair, pulling unintentionally, I just needed something, getting the contact I needed when I latched around his body, eyes rolling to the back of my head.
“Still not ready to tap yet?” He teased, not ready for the moan that jumped from his chest due to the feeling of my hips beginning to chase his, moving faster this his current pace.
“You should know by now, I don’t go down without a fight,” I growled, pulling at his hair a little again.
“You don’t go down without a fight?” He repeated with a deep grunt, making it tough for me not to fall into a puddle when he went off like a jackhammer, sentence being finished with a rough thrust.
With a tight scrunch of his nose, he sat up to admire his cock pulling back just to be sucked back in so quickly, biting his lips and focusing on the squelching sound being created between us, making an even bigger mess of me.
“G-go-“ I stuttered, a sharp arch forming in my lower back, fingernails scratching at the canvas.
“Spit it out,” He smiled, curious as to what I was going to say, thinking I was ready to tap.
“Got damn you, Matt,” I whined, gasping at the feeling of my sweet spot being hammered, rattling my body like an earthquake and I didn’t know how much my body could take before I became undone.
Matt could always read me well, doubling his efforts, such a sexy but devilish look on his face; hair falling down past his eyes, that look alone had me ready.
His eyebrows raised with expectancy when I became so dazed I could only babble out his name, lips having trouble that I made me drool.
To keep a stabilized flow of pleasure through me, he established a quick, pounding rhythm, balls slapping against my wet skin, raising my legs a little higher with a tight grip of my thighs.
It was as if someone was taking bumps in the ring with the way he was going, feeling every movement vibrate against my back and spine, ricocheting all over the place and making all of the pleasure ping around me and hit hard like a pinball machine.
There was no way I was going to get the chance to turn the tables and I didn’t want to. I wanted this and Matt blew my mind.
“I can’t understand you when you’re babbling like that,” Matt noted, wanting my words to express what was happening to my body.
My core coiled up like a spring, a spring that was ready to snap. It made my back arch harder on its own, almost making me sit up, but my body was also ready to collapse, keeping my shoulders down.
The heat was growing in the air thickly, making me overhear, breaking out in small sweats and with Matt going and going, his stamina showing no end, there was no running from the orgasm that lurked.
The squelching grew louder, deep groans rumbling in his chest from my walls pulsating, but there was no slowing him down.
“Matt!” I cried out loud, frantically grabbing him by the shoulders, needing his body for support, his heart pounding hard against my chest when gushing slick drenched his cock and thighs, making his cock pulsate, not daring to slow him down, delivering deep thrust and continuing to fuck me thoroughly.
There was no denying how good every part of it felt, but with all the heat trapped in my body, how my legs were shaking like hell, a faint ring in my ears when my chest stopped heaving, heartbeat echoing with a pound in my head.
With a faint wrist, I tapped his shoulder, holding his head that fell to my shoulder, kissing it with a smile, pinning his hips against mine to take a moment of his own to breathe.
The ring shook a little when he moved his knees, faintly giggling, “Your winner! Matt Jackson. Undefeated against Y/N!”
He was such a goof sometimes and I loved it, making me laugh hysterically when he added quickly, guilt in his voice, “Also, uhhhh, a new canvas is in this ring’s future.”
“Courtesy of Matt Jackson!” I huffed, mocking his announcer's voice.
He wasn’t done getting moans of out me yet, sharp whines falling from my lips when he sat up, slowly pulling out with a languid thrust, smiling into my eyes, “I think you and I should have more matches like these.”
“Oh yeah,” I grinned, blowing him a kiss, “I’m beating that undefeated streak of yours.”
130 notes · View notes
kokororyuu · 3 years
Text
miles apart [levi ackerman x reader]
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synopsis: “you’re going to die,” “i know,” “you’re dying,” “i know, levi, i’m sorry,”
warnings ⚠️: major character death(s), SPOILERS up to season three, slight suggestive themes (its brief!!), brief description of gore
word count: 3.8k
author’s note: no, because,,, this was my first levi fanfic, and i’m immensely proud of it ‼️ if we ignore the “suggestive” part 😩😩 anyway, have fun reading, lovebugs <33
PART TWO: once more
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whatever just happened, had happened too fast, and now both you and levi were laying side by side, miles apart from everyone else and the chaos that caused this whole mess in the first place.
you’re both injured bad from the war, and the stench of blood, both humans and titans alike, lays thick in the air. you find yourself nearly suffocating in it as you cough up what seems to be more blood, it’s metallic taste coating your lips and tongue in red.
you can barely feel your arms and legs, and you’re pretty sure they’re either broken or torn off from the fight. you pull your heavy lids open and stare blearily at the night sky, how many hours had passed since you two had been laying here like this?
you turn your head slowly, hearing the multiple cracks your joints made in the effort as your eyes trailed to levi’s face. he’s still in the same position, facing the sky with empty, soulless eyes. you reckon he was pondering something, how long were we gonna stay here? when will someone arrive to help us?
“levi?” you croak out, and he lets out a little rumble of acknowledgement. “are you okay?” what a stupid question... with how levi is, he definitely isn’t, but he was sure to make it seem like he was. he nods to the best of his ability, though he isn’t faring much better than you. gashes that gush with blood cut across his body in what seems to be parallel and equal in length, claws, of some sort, you assume. “good,” you whisper so softly that he almost doesn’t catch the murmured word.
your life seems to be flashing before your eyes quite slowly for the amount of time you’ve spent here bleeding out beside the man.
you recall the first time you caught him off guard.
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it was a complete accident. as a member of levi’s squadron, you worked under him as a subordinate and did as he said, after all, he had chosen you to be on his team, and you put as much trust in him as he did in you.
you were bringing him some tea after you had dropped off a huge stack of paperwork in his office. you knew he needed it, after all, it had only been a few days after your most recent expedition and paperwork was a bore if you ever knew one.
a simple teapot and cup of black tea rested on the tray in your hands as you made your way from the kitchen to his office, acknowledging a few cadets that would respectfully greet you before going on their way. when you had finally made it to his door, you knocked gently before waiting for his usual question of your name and reason for entering.
a few seconds, maybe minutes passed, and you were beginning to think he wasn’t even there, but you hadn’t want the tea to go to waste, so you hesitantly pushed the door open with your foot, entering the sparkling clean room with tray in hand.
“captain levi?” you nearly bit your tongue (oluo would have laughed in your face if you did before biting down on his own) and froze with your head peeking inside the room at the sight of the man leaning his head against the back of his chair, his eyes closed and his usual frown wiped off his face.
it had you in a wonder, surprised that even humanity’s strongest (and grouchiest) soldier could have a face as calm as the one on his as he slept. you stepped as quietly as you could toward his desk, setting the tea down with care before you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand wrapped around your wrist.
your eyes traveled up the scarred and rough hand, up the toned arm, and looked straight into narrowed grey eyes. “what are you doing here?”
“got you tea, captain,” your nerves were calm now, and you spoke with a grin, “thought you would need it with all the paperwork commander tosses at you,”
levi’s hand lingered on your wrist a little longer before he pulled away and carried the steaming cup to his lips in his strange cup hold that you’ve tried to mimic yet still can’t get right. he drank a little, his face ever so stoic. “tastes like shit, brat,” he said, though he made no move to drop the cup back into the tray and continued to sip away at the red orange liquid.
“thought you’d say that,” you turned to leave after saluting him, your hand wrapping around the doorknob before a mischievous impulse lit in you once more, “you know, captain,” he didn’t even glance up from the papers on his desk. “you look cute when you’re sleeping,” his gaze snapped up at that, and he was about to chew you out for making the comment, but to his dismay, you were already gone, having gotten the amusing response from him that you wanted.
there were many times after that where you’d make a little comment here and there, only to get an icy glare and a click of the tongue from levi, which wasn’t a problem to you at all, if anything, you found it the best part. the way he’d scowl at you and turn away, only to let you get away with it the very next day. it was like a little game the two of you would play, and you were winning if eye rolls, embarrassed blushes hidden behind callused hands, and, “tch,”’s counted as prizes.
you would’ve never thought he’d bite back, especially this far into the game.
“captain levi~!” you drew out his name with a little hop in your step. he didn’t stop walking, if anything, his pace sped up as he tried to leave you in the hallway. “captain!” you groaned childishly and ran after him. he turned the corner and into his office, leaving the door ajar. you grinned, it seemed he knew well enough you wouldn’t stop for a closed door. you opened it as soon as your hand touched the cool wood, and sang out, “levi~” you saw him standing by his desk and looking down at the papers that littered it. “i’ve got another joke for you—”
“—if you keep this up, i might actually get angry,” you halted in your tracks and clamped your mouth shut, angry? oh no, you weren’t trying to make him angry, only annoy him if anything. you knew, everyone knew to not get on levi’s bad side, and after seeing the man kick the titan shifter boy from the 104th cadets merciless, it’d be terribly stupid of you to try and anger him.
he dragged his fingertips across the tabletop and looked up through hooded eyes, “might even punish you,” you were stuck in a stupor at his words and how they obviously had implications for something else.
“but i guess you’d like that, hm? i wouldn’t want give you that satisfaction,” he seemed pleased with the way your cheeks flamed up and your jaw stayed dropped in shock. after he grabbed whatever he needed from his desk, he walked by you with a sly quirk of his lips, dragging a hand up to close your agape mouth. “close the door after you leave,” he called out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.
-
from there on, your relationship had changed drastically. this game now had two players, and that new addition was the original target of the game himself. the teasing and playful jokes continued on for days, weeks, and you were having so much fun that you barely realized how much some people were noticing, including a certain bespectacled one.
“hey, hange!” you plopped next to them as you watched them fiddle with a little gadget. “what’s this?” you eyed curiously as hange laughed.
“my new creation! i’m trying to make something erwin asked for to help with his arm. you nodded, understanding immediately. the commander had lost his arm when the scouts went to save eren from a kidnapping. there was a few moments of silence before hange asked, “so… you and levi?”
you opened your mouth to retort but they beat you to it, “don’t deny it! even eren can tell, and he’s as dense as a rock!” you cowered from their accusing finger before huffing out a sigh.
“you know it doesn’t work like that, hange,” the mood dampened with your honest but hurtful words. you were right, it didn’t. with a world of titans and destruction, war like this, there would never be a second of peace, of life, of freedom. you could be alive and happy one day and then die and suddenly gone forever the next. and with levi being an ackerman, he was bound to survive longer than you, you just didn’t want to cause him more unnecessary pain.
hange hummed under their breath, “you’re right, but if it were me, i’d rather die knowing i had the chance and took it, than die letting it slip between my fingers,” they continued to tinker with the gadget as you pondered quietly on their words. they were right, but so were you, and now it was just up to the risk both sides were willing to take. what would happen if you ever confessed these buried feelings of yours to your terribly stoic captain?
-
in the end, you never said anything, at all. the two of you stayed at this sort of flirting and joking around type state. it was comfortable, you concluded, though you had to be honest, there were a few close calls where you felt you blushed too much, said too much, or gasped a little too loud when his touch lingered on you for too long.
you hadn’t said a word about your feelings for the man, and neither did he.
-
levi didn’t know when his heart had decided to let you in.
it was probably after erwin had passed away on a roof of a building with a gaping hole in his side that colored his cape and the white bandages around his abdomen red.
he brought his body back for a proper burial, but even then, levi couldn’t cry, nor let a single tear slip down his cheek. for a few weeks, even if he seemed put together, there was a heavy feeling that resided in his chest. no matter if he tried to sleep it away or drown himself in paperwork, it never left him.
it had been a rough night. there were complications with the imports from a faraway town in sina, and while hange was busy with things as the newly appointed commander, levi had to deal with the papers that came with the conflict.
he didn’t know how long he had been sitting before the fireplace in the mess hall, scratching away at the parchment under the warmth of the flickering fire that casted a warm orange hue around the room.
he clicked his tongue as another wave of aches hit his head before rubbing at his temples. erwin would’ve been better at handling this shit… his brow furrowed at his thoughts, you know better than that, there’s no bringing him back, you made the choice, levi.
levi didn’t regret his choice, but he had guessed the heavy presence of death had just stuck with him a little tighter this time around. it was fine, it would pass, at least, that was what he told himself.
during his turmoil, you had entered the mess hall as quietly as you could, “captain levi?” he looked up from the papers and pulled his hand away from his face with a quirked brow. “i brought you tea,” you spoke softly as to not agitate him any further. “i hope it tastes better than last time, i practiced,” you sent him a lopsided smile that you hoped would ease his frown, but instead, it brought the opposite.
the lines on his face became deeper as he scowled, “i don’t have time right now,” and the grumble of your name right after sounded harsh on both yours and even his ears. it was now your turn to pout. you definitely weren’t trying to mess around with him right now, not with all the stress and the recent death of one of his closest friends.
you sat there across from him at the table in silence for a few moments as he penned the paper. what could make him feel better? you thought quietly to yourself, your eyes raking over levi in search of something, any indicator to help him. a sudden idea popped in your head as you stood, making your way to stand behind him as you watched his eyes never leave the documents. “what are you doing?”
you reached over and plucked the pen from his hand, placing it down on the table and ignoring his glare, “just relax, levi, i’m gonna try and sort out these tense ass muscles of yours,” as soon as the words popped out of your mouth, your hands began to press into his shoulders, eliciting a little sound of surprise from levi. he almost immediately tensed back up at the foreign feeling but relaxed to the best of his abilities after a few pointed words from you.
“i’m not just here to get you tea, you know?” you worked out a knot in his neck, watching as his head lolled to the side to give you more room to work. “i had the same training as you, and i know how to handle paperwork, you could always ask if you need the help,” he hummed at your offer, and you only chuckled before getting back to his tense muscles.
levi let himself relax, more so than he probably ever had. your hands made their way up the base of his neck, and he let out a little sigh. he didn’t think this would feel this good, and he was considering what he could do to pay you back before realizing. what was the need to? you were doing the work of a subordinate for a superior, there was no need for him to treat you to anything.
but there was something that made levi realize that it wasn’t true, no matter how much every fiber in his body wanted to reject the idea. you were different, in your own weird way, and he couldn’t place his finger on it yet, but he decided he’d find out along the way.
“alright, you can work with me starting tomorrow, meet me here after dinner. if you’re late, i’m not letting you help again,” you smiled victoriously and pat his shoulders to signify you were done massaging them.
“alright then! see you tomorrow, captain,” you saluted him and shuffled out of the mess hall to leave him to his work.
the man held back a chuckle, sipping on the now lukewarm tea by his side. he had to admit, you were getting better at brewing his favorite drink.
levi’s heart felt a little lighter that night.
-
the two of you were almost impossibly closer after that. early mornings were spent with hange at important meetings and gatherings, most of the days were spent listening to hange rant about titans and ridiculous (but hilarious) and sometimes even useful plans, and late nights would be spent on paperwork and idle chatter by the warm fireplace in the mess hall.
the two of you would talk about nothing and everything, sometimes levi letting you talk his ear off as he added comments here and there or choosing to bask in each other’s silence as the flames beside you two crackled.
there were nights you fell asleep at the table, only to wake up in the middle of the night with a blanket that looked suspiciously like the one levi refused to share with you the night before around your shoulders that smelled of fresh laundry and lemons.
-
levi remembered all these little moments, including the time he had to yank a paper from under your arm to save it from your impending drool, or the multiple times he draped his cotton blanket over you and pulled it around your shoulders, his hands hesitating to pick off the dust that had resided on your cheek before gently brushing it off you and holding his breath when you’d twitch or move from his touch.
he still couldn’t really understand how it happened really, but spending time with you made him realize how much he liked the way you smiled at him no matter how annoyed he was with you, and the way you talked to him like he wasn’t humanity’s strongest soldier.
he felt normal, and strangely free.
and for some reason, he felt that if you ever disappeared from his sight, he’d lose this light feeling in his chest that outshined the bitter emotions he was always burdened with.
he didn’t want to lose you.
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levi huffs, trying to control his unsteady breathing. there’s a feeling of discomfort that settles in his chest, and he’s not sure if it’s from just the cuts and bruises he obtained from the crash. you’re treating him like he’s fragile, like glass, and he hates it, sure, he’s broken, even he knows that, but he hates it.
humanity’s strongest soldier… he scoffs internally at himself, well, he feels pretty pathetic at the moment. he then outwardly scowls, gripping onto the pants of his torn uniform.
“you’re going to die,” he doesn’t mean for his words to sound so sharp, and he’s sure that his tone hurts you more than the gashes that litter your torso.
“i know,” he’s right, it hurts, and they seem to cut deeper than your wounds, as if someone struck your heart with a knife and twisted the blade.
his voice nearly breaks when he says this, but he stays... strong, “you’re dying,”
“i know, levi. i’m sorry,”
you know this man has been through so much, too much. he lost too many, has seen too much, he’s been through so many tragedies, and you still haven’t seen him cry, not once, and not now as you lay beside him, shivering and keeping your eyes open enough to watch him glare up at the night sky.
one last attempt, you think to yourself. you need to get his attention before it’s too late, before you fade away and disappear, but you can already feel your conscious slipping through your fingertips and your eyes drooping.
“levi…” your voice sounds pained when he stays turnt away from you and looks up at the moon, “i’m proud of you,” levi’s heart squeezes and so does his eyes, he doesn’t want to hear your soft voice right now, nor look at your mangled body, or hear the shouts of soldiers swinging around on their odm gear or the battle cries as they slice into titans’ napes.
you bite back a cry at his act of ignorance to your pleas for him to just look at you, and fall silent as your energy drains along with the blood that comes from you and him and soak into the earth. you meant those words, you mean what you said, and you beg him with your eyes focused on his high cheekbones to just spare you a glance while his stay glued to the twinkling stars.
it becomes so quiet, that levi begins to think you’ve already kicked the bucket with how he can barely hear your breathing.
he’s already preparing himself to do what he usually does, steel himself against the terrible emotions of survivor’s guilt and sorrow. every time he feels the twinge of depression and desperation creep up and wrap itself around his heart, he escapes to his mind, the logical part of him. the part that keeps him miles apart from everything, distance, safety.
he does it so much that you know, and you can tell he’s doing it right now with how tense his brow is and how the nails of the hand which lays between you digs into his palm. he’s closing himself off again, even after all these years you’ve spent together as comrades, partners in crimes, and what you hope was as friends.
you try to distract yourself some more, with anything really, the way his hair, though covered in blood seems to flow seamlessly to the sides of his head, revealing his undercut, and his eyes that stare silently into the endless blue sky, or the familiar smell of citrus and fresh laundry that you get from him even with the layers of smoke that are wafting from the ongoing battle burning your lungs or the smell of blood still seeping out from the both of you.
you want to hold onto the lingering hope that he’ll turn to you and at least say one last goodbye, or say those unspoken feelings he’s always hidden behind cool grey eyes, but he doesn’t say a word.
time is running out, and you need to say this, say this before you leave him like everyone else. levi’s fingers twitch when he hears you take in a sudden breath, your voice coming out quiet, weak, frail.
“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” levi’s eyes open, and his head snaps toward you, and he regrets it, so bad. he manages to catch the exact moment the light, the life, fades from your very eyes he always thought were so gorgeous.
he’s lost his light.
you’re gone.
levi feels this terrible grip on his heart that makes him lose his breath and his head pound worse than it already is, and he chokes on the blood that gushes from his lips. his hand reaches out to you weakly, his arms, losing their strength, and he barely has the energy to keep his eyes open.
he almost can’t bring himself to do it, but he leans forward to press a shaky and hesitant kiss on the top of your head that he hopes conveys all the unsaid confessions he could’ve showered you with before your passing. his lips are warm, while your body turns pale and blue, and he finds it ironic how someone as kind and bright as you now seems dull in comparison to him.
as unshed tears pool at the corners of his eyes, your lifeless ones bore into his for the last time before he pushes them close with a touch of his hands over your eyes.
his heart, it hurts so bad, more than it ever has, and no matter how much he tries to push down the lump in his throat or the burning of his eyes and heart, it persists. he slowly falls back into his previous position, your corpse beside him losing its warmth and his steel grey eyes facing the moon once more.
the fuzzy lines around the full moon start to blur as he blinks a few times, the hues of white mixing with the blue of the sky, “it is…”
and finally, he lets himself cry.
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explanations
“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
this is a more poetic way to say “i love you” in japanese :D
“it is...”
this is essentially “i love you too” in reply to “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”
117 notes · View notes
ahkaahshi · 3 years
Text
12:27 AM [kuroo tetsurou x reader]
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pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem reader (platonic relationship)
genre: fluff and angst
warning(s): swearing, brief mentions of alcohol consumption
word count: 2.8k
overview: you go on one, final late night food run with your best friend to commemorate your last evening in tokyo
notes: as stated above, the reader and kuroo’s relationship here is purely platonic. it just felt right. also, this one’s a bit more dialogue-heavy than usual, but it’s intentional :) hope you enjoy!
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At 12:27 AM, Kuroo’s standing in the kitchen, poring over an open cupboard of food—none of which seems to fulfill his cravings. Tapping the toes of his house slippers against the tiled floor, he sends a glance over at where you’re sitting on the couch, watching the movie he’d put on with rapt attention. His attempts at successfully blocking out thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow are foiled once more when his gaze settles on the luggage waiting patiently in the entryway.
“Hey, (f/n),” he calls out to you, shutting the cabinets in front of him and turning away from them. The eyebrow you raise at him expectantly has him continuing, “Whaddya say to going on one, last late-night food run in the city with your old pal?”
With a snicker, you toss the mountains of blankets off your body and stand up as you say, “You act as if today’s my last day on the planet, Tetsu.”
“Seriously, though, who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” he wonders, “Might as well live like it’s your last day on the planet, even if it’s just for a night, right?”
You shake your head as you pull on an old Nekoma hoodie out of your backpack that matches the one he’s wearing. “Quit it, dumbass; you’re gonna make me all sentimental.”
A grin spreads across his lips and he gives you a playful shake once the two of you have stepped into your shoes and left his home. It warms your heart but shatters it at the same time, since you’re painfully aware of the fact that tonight will be the last time you see it in person for what could be months. And if his words hadn’t already made you a bit emotional, the drive through Tokyo would’ve done the trick.
He rolls the windows of his car down, letting in the cool, nighttime air that whistles past as the vehicle picks up speed. In an effort he wants to seem as spontaneous as possible, he plays music from a playlist the two of you had made together back when you were in high school, shouting and dancing along to the lyrics of every song with you with an enthusiasm that has you doubling over in your seat with laughter.
Every stoplight gives other drivers and pedestrians buzzing around the bustling downtown area the opportunity to shoot you judgmental looks or those of entertainment, but you’re too busy living in the moment with him that you barely notice or even care, for that matter. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you find yourself lost in admiring the dazzling array of lights passing you by during your drive through the lively city. Knowing you’ll be in a new one by this time tomorrow has you gazing upon everything you’d simply passed by before without a second thought with a newfound appreciation and lingering nostalgia.
Eventually, after Kuroo’s impressed you by maneuvering his car into a tighter parking spot than you thought he could fit in, you find your destination is a small restaurant tucked away in one of the back alleys aglow with neon signs. Though it’s packed to the brim with other patrons enjoying a late-night meal, there’s plenty of conversation between you and your friend to fill the time you spend waiting for a table.
Once you’re inside, you bask in the warmth heavy with the delicious smell of fresh food as the two of you sit together and reminisce over steaming bowls of ramen. “You know one thing I’ll never forget?” Kuroo begins, fishing out a few plump noodles with his chopsticks. You glance over at him expectantly while you blow on the broth in your spoon and he chuckles before adding, “The look on Lev’s face when he hit you in the back of the head during warmups and you gave him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen.”
“I felt so bad when I realized it was him, though, ‘cause I thought it was you!” you defend.
Kuroo’s unoccupied hand flies to his chest to complete the feigned look of shock on his face. “And you were gonna look at me like that if it was?”
“You were always aiming for me, Tetsu.”
“You were always on the court!”
“Helping Coach toss and keeping hitters like you from fucking up your ankles by coming down on stray volleyballs, you asshole.”
Kuroo shrugs and comments, “I never hit you hard, though,” and moves another serving of noodles to his lips. “Just wanted to keep our beloved manager on her toes is all.”
With an incredulous scoff, you retort, “Yeah, you did that, alright. And even well into uni, too.”
There’s a pause in your conversation as you both take a moment to enjoy your food before Kuroo questions, “Could you please submit your evidence to the court?”
“Halloween,” you state, (e/c) eyes laser focused on his own, hazel ones. He’s narrowing them, as if he’s trying to remember the event in question, so you help him out by continuing, “You and Kou were insistent on coming with me to a raging house party that night. The two of you got so, annoyingly drunk that you were laughing at the top of your lungs like hyenas about videos of pets dressed up in costumes at three in the morning.”
He raises a finger contemplatively. “I might’ve blacked out, but that does sound like something I’d do.”
“In that case, you probably forgot about all the noise complaints I got, then; and how the owner of the place came to scold me in person.”
A bashful grin forms on his lips at the memory you’ve reminded him of, and he concedes, “Alright, alright; we’ve both done a lot of stupid shit in the time we’ve known each other, so let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to remind you of the time you lost your bikini top in the ocean and were too mortified to move, so you made me swim in and get it, right?”
“This conversation is over,” you declare, face growing hot with embarrassment as a vivid image of the moment in question flashes across your mind.
As the two of you continue enjoying your delicious meals and reminiscing about other, more positive experiences you’ve shared together, you feel the knot that’s been settled in the pit of your stomach for what seems to be weeks now make itself known once more. In spite of your outward calmness and enthusiasm, you were starting to have trouble hiding your nervousness. The last thing you’d wanted was for anyone to notice and try to talk you out of your decision, but Kuroo’s far more perceptive than most and knows you well enough to understand what you’re thinking.
When the two of you finish your meals and find the strength to scoot out of your chairs, he notices the way you gaze longingly at your surroundings. He catches sight of the gentle glimmer of emotion in your eyes as you request that he drive you anywhere he wants—just to hold off on going back to his place for a bit longer. And each time he takes his eyes off the road ahead to cast a glance in your direction, he finds your attention fixated on all the buildings and people that pass by.
But it’s not until the two of you arrive at a nearly empty parking lot outside a large, sprawling park that he decides to bring up the question of what’s on your mind. “Hey, (f/n),” he says, making you turn on your heels to face him where you’d been standing a few feet away from his car, watching the twinkling lights in the distance. He looks so carefree, perched on the hood of his vehicle, hands shoved into the pockets of his black joggers, whereas you’re much more on edge, trying to keep your foot-tapping against the loose gravel to a minimum.
“Hmm?”
He purses his lips for a moment before answering slowly, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while—the last day we’d spend together. And it’s one of those things that you just can’t really prepare yourself for, no matter how hard you try to, y’know?” The muscles around your brow relax, and your expression becomes more curious upon being pulled out of your worrisome thoughts. “I know how I’m feeling, but how are you holding up?”
Your fingers interlace themselves as you bite the inside of your cheek. Even if you want to, there’s no bullshitting Kuroo. Not when he’s seen you in every state you can imagine and is often one to pick up on your feelings before you’re even aware they exist, though he often brings them to your attention with a more lighthearted approach than most would think appropriate to take. Doesn’t mean he cares any less, however; and you can see the genuine concern in his hazel eyes shining a paler color in the white moonlight.
“I’m excited,” you tell him. With the way your heart’s pounding in your chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear its pulse in your voice. Moving towards him to occupy the space on the hood beside him, you take a deep breath and look up at him. “But I’m terrified at the same time.” It’s instantaneous, the way you lean into his touch the moment he slings his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Since we were kids, I was always talking about wanting to move to another country, remember?”
“I thought you just said that to make me sad whenever I pissed you off.”
You lightly swat his chest and argue, “Oh, be quiet.” But, before you can continue with what you were going to say, you find yourself focused on the words he’d spoken instead. “Wait, did you actually mean that?”
With a gentle chuckle, he shrugs. “Nah, I was joking.” The adam’s apple in his throat bobs when he turns his attention towards the sky and admits, “But I always did get a little sad whenever you mentioned it. Still do.” A moment of silence filled with the distant sounds of traffic and the chirping of insects ensues during which you watch your fingers toy with the aglets hanging off your hoodie. “I mean, come on, now; what kinda kid wants one of his best friends to move away when he knows how big the world is but how singular and small he is?”
“Tetsu,” you murmur softly, feeling your lip tremble with emotion and your eyes sting with oncoming tears, “You’ve always been there for me through, like, everything. Or, at least, it feels that way. Part of the reason why I’m so scared of leaving is because I’m gonna be all by myself, in a brand-new place, just thrown into the deep end of things and having to teach myself how to swim all over again. But another part of it is because I’m gonna be away from you. And even now, as an adult, I still don’t wanna move away from my best friend.”
He doesn’t even have to look at you or hear you sniffle to know you’re crying, and he tightens his grip around you, placing his other hand on your back. Appreciative of the gesture, you bury your face in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt and pull him into an embrace so you can hold onto him for a few, long moments that you wish didn’t have to end.
“Hey, it’s all good as long as you don’t forget about me once you make it big out there, okay?” His tone is teasing and lighthearted, as per usual, but you can hear the subtlest break in his voice that has more tears cascading down your cheeks and pooling in the creases of his sweater.
“I’m not gonna forget you—I could never—but, what if I can’t do it?” you whimper, “What if I get there and I hate the job, or I hate my coworkers, or I hate life over there? Then I’ll be stuck out there with no one.”
Rubbing your back gently, he assures you, “If worst comes to worst, you can come back home and regroup. You’ll always have a place to stay here. Well… unless I get super famous and end up being offered a job to travel around the world.” You can’t help but snicker at his comment, and neither can he. “Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be there in spirit. And don’t discount the possibility of me showing up at your doorstep, since we know I have a tendency to do that.”
“Like a stray cat I keep feeding.”
“Exactly. Maybe you’ll even get two if I can convince Kenma to come with me. We’ll have to see how long he can survive off his Switch alone.”
Your bodies both shake with laughter for a few moments before you pull away from each other, and his hands slide onto your shoulders to give them a firm squeeze. Keeping your head lowered for a moment, you drag the sleeves of your hoodie across your eyes to wipe up any stray tears you hadn’t left on his. When your gazes meet, though, the confidence in his almost entirely dissolves the knot that’s been building in your stomach for so long.
“Hey.” He shakes you gently, and you jokingly let your head roll about, eliciting more snickers from both of your mouths before looking at him expectantly and with your full attention. “Don’t let the worst-case scenario hold you back from something that could be great. You’re so quick to think about how likely the worst possible thing is to happen, but why can’t the best be just as likely?”
Playfully, you tease, “Wow, seems like someone’s trying to get me outta here,” with a smirk.
“(F/n),” he sighs, sending a long plume of steam upwards from his mouth. Giving you a firm pat on the arm, he admits, “I’m gonna miss you like hell. But this is what you’ve been wanting for so long, and I want you to do it so badly. Partly so I can say that I have a vacation property abroad, but mostly because you know I want the best for you, since you deserve it.”
Your lip quakes once again at his confession, but you manage to blink back the tears this time and crack a smile. “Okay. But if you’d better not get even the slightest bit sentimental or teary-eyed tomorrow or else I’m gonna cry like a bitch all the way through the airport.”
“Eyes will be dry as long as you promise to video call me the second you land so I can go on the cab ride with you and see the whole, cute apartment reveal thing that’s so trendy these days.”
A mixture of a giggle and a gentle sob leaves your mouth as you watch his figure distorted by your swimming vision rise from the hood of his car. You feel warm hands on your wrists pulling you up onto your feet before you’re ensconced in another tight hug while Kuroo rocks from one foot to the other.
“You’re gonna be fine.”
After giving you a squeeze hard enough to push the air out of your lungs, he releases his grasp around you and opens the door on the passenger’s side so you can climb in and retreat from the coldness of the night. “With all these emotions plus the food, I’m gonna knock out so fast when we get home,” you mumble with a soft sniffle, reaching for the packet of tissues in his glove compartment once he’s settled in the driver’s seat.
He scoffs and furrows his eyebrows at you as he sticks his keys in the ignition. “Who said you were sleeping tonight? You’ve got the whole plane ride tomorrow to do that.”
“Alright, you can’t blame me for being cranky, then.”
With a shake of the head, he shifts the car into reverse so he can back out of the parking lot and start the journey back to his home. While the music you’d been blasting earlier plays softly from the speakers, you rest your head on the door once more to watch your familiar surroundings breeze by outside.
“Tetsurou.” You glance over at him and his head of haphazardly styled hair that you’re sure won’t fit on the screen of your phone the next time you see him, and his eyes meet yours when he brings the car to a halt at a stop sign. “Thanks for spending my so-called last night on the planet with me.”
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extra that didn’t make the cut: kuroo didn’t shed a tear at the airport until after he thought you’d left. but you’d actually just hid somewhere and caught him with watery eyes. you still video called him as soon as you landed, though.
when night falls masterlist ⭐︎ treat me to a coffee!
taglists (send an ask to be added to the when night falls taglist!)
when night falls: @aoyukai​, @why-aminot-dead​, @yamagucji​, @toutorii​, @shibayamasbae​, @tsukkisbean​, @devlovesiwa-channn​, @captain-shittykawa​, @ghblh​, @postsfromthe6​, @omibaby​, @deerixiie​
general: @dinablossom​, @newfriendjen​, @ohbyunhunn​, @aftcrlust​, @mister-future​, @kyleclxin​, @kac-chowsballs​, @osamusmiya​, @nit-sir-hc​, @arixtsukki​, @shinsurou​, @ichorizaki​, @dominikmagnus​, @tendo-sxtori​, @krynnza​​
kuroo: @lotsoffandomrecs​, @heyhinata​, @cuddlysoftbear​
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Text
Driving Me Mad [G.W] - Part 6
Series Description: You and George come up with a plan to pretend to date each other. But what happens when you actually start to catch feelings...
Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 
Word Count: 3.7k
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @fadesbrina, @sweetlyblushedbouquet, @streetfighterrichie, @thatguppienamedbae, @wolfiepirate
Description: It’s time for the first task and you find yourself surprised once again by the tricks up George’s sleeve.
                                                           X
The weeks went by and word quickly spread that George and you were officially an item. Much to your delight, Fleur and Roger quickly faded into the background of the social scene to the point where you weren’t entirely sure if they were still seeing each other. The only noteworthy pairing who came close to your status was Hermione Granger who had managed to catch the eye of the one and only Viktor Krum. 
You had to commend George on his stellar performance. While playing the girlfriend wasn’t a challenge for you, George was completely convincing as a boyfriend. He had a knack for sneaking up behind you and kissing you on the cheek or grabbing your waist, creating a genuine element of surprise for all to see. At first, George would join you in eating with your crowd but you started to drift ever so slightly to spending more time simply with each other for meals. Even when you were alone, it felt as if you were a couple. You would sit on the couch and laugh about nothing for hours and hours. You’d stay up late and talk about life as you rested your head in his lap and he would play with your hair as you drifted off to sleep. It got to the point where you had to remind yourself that you were not actually dating George and this was all a ploy. 
The only person who appeared strictly opposed to this pseudo coupling was Fred. Despite your best efforts, he still suspected you were using George for something. And he was right about that; but he didn’t know the other half of it. So many times you considered telling Fred or instructing George to tell him about the arrangement, but you didn’t think it would help anything. Fred’s opinion would likely remain the same and he would probably just chew out George for keeping secrets from him. Instead, Fred kept his distance from you, and it pained you terribly. You knew that this was affecting their relationship and you only hoped that everything between them would clear up as soon as your deal was over. 
Your plan didn’t have a set timeline, but you knew your arrangement would end with a very public breakup. You would run off and “cry yourself to sleep” while George would mope around the common room in the hopes of accepting some sympathy from Angelina Johnson. You figured by that point that Roger would be sick of pampering Fleur and would consider reconnecting with newly single you. However, gaining Roger’s attention didn’t seem to be a priority to you anymore. You just wanted to help George find his happy ending. 
“Hey you, ready to go?” George interrupted your thoughts and you found him bundled up in a matching hat and scarf set, surely knitted by his mother. You were dressed in a similar manner, preparing for the brisk air about to reach your cheeks. It was a day full of excitement as the first task of the tournament was about to occur. You convinced George that you should sit with Fred and Lee for the task and he reluctantly obliged. You knew things between them had been tense and you wanted them to spend some more time together whenever possible. You walked down to the arena designed specifically for the task. George had hinted that the first task involved dragons in some way, since his brother Charlie had helped to deliver the beasts. You were ushered into the crowd where you saw Fred and Lee sitting with two seats open that they seemed to have saved for you. 
You made your way through the crowd and walked through all of your peers to reach your seats. George took the space next to Fred and squeezed your hand through the mittens you were wearing. You sat down as you waited for the event to begin. The scene in front of you was a rocky terrain with giant boulders and miniature cliffs arranged in an uneven and jagged manner. In the middle of the arena was a golden egg that appeared to be the size of an ostrich egg. You were about to inquire whether George knew anything else about the task when you heard the bellowing voice of Albus Dumbledore amplify through the arena.
‘The first task of this tournament requires our champions to retrieve a golden egg that is being protected by a dangerous creature. This task is designed to test each champion’s daring and bravery, as well as their ability to think on their feet and utilize the magical knowledge and skills they have learned. At the sound of the cannon-“ Dumbledore was interrupted by the blasting of a cannon, which seemed poorly timed and must have been an accident. Yet Cedric Diggory made his way into the arena as he was up first. You cheered for your friend as he sauntered into the unknown terrain and you elbowed George to join you. You knew he was pulling for Harry to win the whole thing, but Cedric was one of your own too. Cedric looked confident, yet very alert, almost as if he was looking for something to come at him. Seemingly out of nowhere, a blue dragon landed on top of the egg that had been sitting in the middle of the arena. The crowd gasped in surprise and shock as they realized what the champions were being asked to do. George whispered in my ear, “That’s the Swedish Short-Snout. Charlie told me all about them over the summer break.” You nodded at his comment but you were unable to peel your eyes from the scene in front of you.
Cedric took a few steps closer to the Short-Snout as the dragon zeroed in on him as a new target. Steam came out of the dragon’s nostrils as he prepared to barbecue its newest intruder. Cedric was quicker though. He cast a spell and one of the boulders lying near the entrance was transformed into a dog, what looked like a German Shepherd. The crowd cheered as the dragon now chose to focus solely on the animal running circles around him in a taunting way. The shepherd made its way toward the edge of the arena and the dragon slowly followed, planning its attack. With each step the dragon made away from the golden treasure, Cedric ran a few steps closer. Just as Cedric was about a foot away from taking the egg, the dragon lost interest in playing games with the dog and headed back toward the egg he was guarding. Cedric froze as the Short-Snout grew angry at his intrusion and flames shot from the dragon’s mouth. You squeezed George’s arm, unsure of what was about to happen to your friend while also feeling slightly amazed at the power of the dragon. You could feel the heat from the stands which meant Cedric must have been close to frying. The flames hadn’t quite reached him as he lunged toward the egg, covering his face with his arm. Once the egg was in his possession, the dragon vanished and Cedric celebrated by holding up his treasure and key to the next task. The crowd went wild with applause, even though Cedric just barely made it out alive. His face was almost entirely black with dirt and soot and it appeared he sustained some sort of burn on his face. Regardless, he had defeated the dragon.
Fleur was next to take on her dragon which she did with utter finesse and minimal difficulty. She enchanted her green dragon to sleep and scurried over to collect the egg. The only mishap occurred as the dragon was snoring and exhaled the slightest bit of fire which ignited Fleur’s light blue skirt. She quickly put out the flames with her wand and continued towards the golden egg. 
Viktor trudged out onto the pitch and bravely faced the Chinese Fireball that was ahead of him. He circled around the dragon, deciding what to do next, as he dodged the occasional flames. George nudged you and you turned to look at his grinning face.
“This is pretty awesome isn’t it?” he said to you.
“Yeah, I mean completely frightening and borderline unethical but very entertaining.” He put an arm around you and brought your head to his shoulder where you stayed until something exciting happened. Viktor had his wand raised and conducted a very forceful spell which seriously impaired the Fireball. It was difficult to determine what exactly he had done, but it seemed to be working. The dragon was wincing in pain and Krum took the opportunity to trudge toward the golden egg. 
“What’s he done?” you asked George, hoping he understood what had happened.
“I think he’s blinded it…” George replied. You nodded and almost immediately George’s suspicion was confirmed as the dragon was stumbling around, disoriented. The beast became agitated and he let out an angry, fiery breath while lashing his tail about, striking Krum to the ground. You gasped and unconsciously grabbed George’s hand with nervousness. He turned to you with a smirk on his face and you casually recovered saying, “Sorry.” He chuckled and shook his head, gripping your hand tighter.
Krum was thrown a few feet across the pitch and appeared to be in pain, however he found his strength again as the dragon blindly trekked around the arena. Krum was determined to collect the egg and once he did so, he let out a masculine grunt and held the egg up, to which all the Durmstrangs began chanting “Krum! Krum! Krum! Krum!...”
“Three down, one to go. How do you think Harry’ll do?” George asked you.
“I mean these three made it look kind of easy. But I don’t know if Harry has that sort of knowledge or confidence even. We’ll see if he can pull it off.” 
A few moments later Harry emerged into the arena, seeming a little shaken and nervous, much like the other champions. His dragon must have been released but was still hidden behind some boulders. This dragon was smart. Harry looked confused, shrugged and started walking toward the egg, under the impression he might just be able to grab it.   
He was wrong. The dragon leaped from behind a boulder and flames and steam were erupting from its nostrils. Harry jumped back and was completely startled. His only move was to hide behind a boulder, which didn’t seem like a long-term solution. The dragon, which Fred mentioned was a Hungarian Horntail, was slowly burning the rock Harry was hiding behind and the outcome seemed pretty bleak. You grabbed George’s arm and nuzzled your head into his shoulder as a reflex, not wanting to see the fiery event occurring in front of your eyes. You suddenly realized you were doing all of this stuff without even trying to act coupley. It was just happening. Perhaps you were overthinking things or you wanted to hide your feelings but as George looked down at you to make sure you were okay, you gave him a wink and a soft smile to assure him this was just for show. Even if maybe it wasn’t.
At that moment, Harry cast the Accio charm and his broomstick appeared just in time. Harry hopped on and flew a circle around the Horntail. Everyone started cheering at this sudden turn of events, including you and George. You  soon realized that Harry didn’t quite seem to have a plan and was simply just escaping the dragon at this moment. Harry’s sudden ability to fly seemed to disturb the dragon and it was fighting the chains holding it toward the ground. Seconds later the Horntail ripped the chains from the ground and this chase suddenly became much more real. Harry recognized the dragon was no longer being held down and flew up over the section where all the teachers were seated and out of the arena towards the castle. The dragon followed suit, taking out the teachers section on its way.
“Well done dragon!” Fred and George shouted in unison, high fiving each other. It was a rare moment with these two as of late and it made you smile. Harry flew towards the castle and all the excitement was gone as there wasn’t much to see. The crowd was hushed and whispering about what might be going on off the pitch. 
“Now what?” you whispered to George. It was a very high tension moment and not being able to see anything was stressful and also a little dull. People around you were speculating the outcome of the event, whispering theories and extremes.
“He’ll make it through this, I think. Harry may be young but he’s got good instincts. And a lot of luck.” 
“Very true.”
You made small talk as the crowd started to lose focus on Harry’s current absence. You spotted Hermione a few rows ahead of you beginning to panic as Ron tried to calm her down, assuring her things were probably fine. 
“What’s that?” you heard Dean Thomas say, as he pointed to something appearing in the sky. The clouded, grey sky became a bit brighter as some royal blue sparks appeared in the middle of the arena. The sparks took the form of a quill and began to write a message in calligraphy.
Y/N –
 Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?
                                                                          George
You felt the blush creeping up your cheeks as everyone turned to look at you, awaiting your answer.
“So, what do you say?” he asked you.
You tried to hide the surprised smile that was spreading across your face. “I would love to,” you replied.
George wrapped his arms around your waist and surprised you with a kiss. You put your arms around his neck in response and you heard the people around you start to cheer and clap. You pulled away and gave George a hug. He really had a way of making you feel special. You knew he was different, but you didn’t expect anything like this. You weren’t even sure you were going to the ball together. You thought he might want to ask Angelina, but apparently not. Maybe this was real.
As you were hugging, George whispered in your ear, “Had to put on a show right?” Of course, this was all for show. Had to make people jealous of you. You assumed it also was a ploy to impress Angelina with his thoughtfulness and romanticism. You were fooling yourself by thinking you actually had something special.
The attention was shifted off of you and back to the arena as Harry slowly flew into sight. The arena erupted into cheers, particularly the Hogwarts section. Harry flew down and scooped up the golden egg, holding it high above his head as if he had just caught the Golden Snitch. The buzz in the arena was wild. Barty Crouch came out to give the rankings based on time it took to defeat each dragon but no one was really listening. Everyone was just happy they had all succeeded and made it through alive.  While the task itself was exciting, you knew there would be some sort of celebration in the Gryffindor common room that would be equally as fun.
                                                           X
The common room was alive with excitement. Gryffindors of all ages were gathered around to celebrate Harry’s victory. He was currently being hoisted up in the air as everyone cheered him on. You and George laid back a little and let the younger Gryffindors grovel over the famous Harry Potter. Harry was enjoying the glory and he suddenly quieted everyone down. He was holding the golden egg in his hand and everyone was waiting to hear his next word.
He casually lifted up the egg and said, “Who wants me to open it?” Everyone erupted in cheers and Harry played dumb and egged the crowd on. Finally he twisted the top of the egg and the sides fell open. You weren’t sure what to expect, but you were taken by surprise when a high pitched shrieking sound filled the room. You covered your ears and turned toward George instinctually. He put his arm around your shoulder and held your head to his chest. Harry struggled to close the egg but once he did everyone sighed a breath of relief. That event seemed to disperse the crowd a little bit and encouraged more socialization. Of course Harry was surrounded by a crowd of friends and admirers. You and George took a seat on the couch away from much of the excitement.
“You have a dress for the ball yet?” he asked.
“I don’t actually. To be honest I kind of forgot about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I was so excited for the ball when I was with Roger, but when he ended things I sort of avoided thinking about it. I didn’t know if we’d still be doing this by that point.”
“I thought about that, but this just seemed like the right thing to do. I figured we might still be acting a couple and since people are starting to solidify dates I didn’t want either of us to be dateless.”
“Good thinking there Weasley,” you remarked. You realized you were actually looking forward to going to the ball with George.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started. He looked…hesitant, and it made you nervous. 
“Yeah, sure,” just as you replied, Fred and Lee came in with some butterbeers. Fred looked over towards you, seeking George’s company. You saw George’s eyes light up and you knew he was dying to join them. “Go ahead, we can talk later.”
“Meet me in the stairwell in 20?” he suggested. You nodded and assured him you would be there. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Maybe things were really happening for you. You were trying not to live in a fantasy world and be more realistic about things but everything seemed to be falling into place. You caught George’s eye for a moment as he was chatting with Fred and Angelina, but he soon redirected his attention to the conversation ahead of him. You decided to head to your room and freshen up, looking for a way to waste 20 minutes.
                                                            X
You were making some small talk with Hermione when you glanced up at the clock and realized it was just about time to sneak away. You made a quick exit and scurried away to the spiral staircase within Gryffindor tower. You would be a few minutes early but you were okay with that. You crept quietly down the stairs when you realized there were people here already. You froze unsure of whether you should continue or not, but your curiosity got the best of you. If this was a new couple, you wanted to be the first to know. You cast a charm that kept all your movements hushed as you climbed quickly down the stairs, anxious to see who was…snogging it seemed. 
You could tell you were getting closer to the two lovebirds so you slowed down to ensure you didn’t interrupt them. You spied around the corner and found a familiar red head facing away from you. Your heart dropped. It was George. And pinned against the wall was Angelina Johnson. His hand was cupping her cheek, exactly like he had done with you before, and Angelina was softly moaning and giggling. She pulled away for a moment and whispered to him.
“I have to say, I’m surprised. I did not expect this at all. Especially with everything that’s been going on with you lately. But I’ve been waiting for this to happen for years. I always thought we would end up together and here we are. And now you can ease the tension with your brother.”
You put your hand to your mouth to keep quiet. Even with the charm you cast, you were worried you might make a sound anyway. George didn’t even respond, he just returned his lips to hers and resumed the macking. You retreated, seeing all you needed to see. You tried to hold back the tears that were welling in your eyes. You felt like an idiot. George probably wanted to break off your arrangement because he had won the attention of Angelina. You were dumb enough to think he wanted to become a couple for real. Your heart dropped into your stomach and you felt nauseous. This feeling was all new to you. Even your breakup with Roger didn’t make you feel like this. You panicked with where to go, since you knew the common room was full of people and you certainly didn’t want to be seen like this. On impulse you ran down the hall and made your way toward the Room of Requirement. It was the only place you could think of where you could truly be by yourself.
                                                            X
“Y/N, I missed you last night. What happened?” George found you at breakfast. You were there pretty early and were eating by yourself, still not ready for company. 
“Hey,” was all you offered him. 
“You okay?”
“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”
“So about last night.”
“Don’t worry about it, honestly. We created this easy out clause for a reason and I don’t want you to feel guilty about cutting things off.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know about you and Angelina and I’m really happy for you guys. I always thought you would make a cute couple. Oh and you’re off the hook for the Yule Ball too.”
“Y/N, I-“ 
“George, don’t pity me. I’m fine on my own. I don’t need you to fake this relationship anymore okay? We weren’t even a believable couple. In what world would I move on from Roger Davies and start dating you,” you snapped. As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you regretted saying them. Truthfully, you were hurt and you were taking that pain out on George. He gave you a look of disgust before storming off. You watched him go and tried to call after him but it was too late. You dropped your head to the table in defeat. You had ruined another relationship and this one was with someone you genuinely cared about. 
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inadaydream99 · 4 years
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Hey! Can I request a Juyeon best friends to lovers imagine? They could be in love with each other but are scared to confess to each other so the members help them secretly... I didn't think much about it, I hope this is enough, thanks!
Hi thanks for requesting! I loved writing this and I got a bit carried away so it took a while 😂 I wanted to try and parallel the whole cliché falling in love with your best friend romance film trope with (Y/N). I hope you enjoy!
Lost (and found)
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I was lost until I found you. You wipe the stray tears running down your cheeks. Damn your love for cheesy romcoms and your inability to refrain from crying. The sleeve of your light grey sweater is now darkened and damp as you gently wipe it over your eyes. You want to find an endless love like the couple in the movie. They were best friends, deeply in love with each other from the moment they met. It’s almost scary how relatable you find the whole scenario, being in love with your best friend too. Except, unlike the fictional world of the movie, your love can’t be expressed or reciprocated.
You’d known Juyeon for exactly two years, one month and eighteen days. Not that you’re counting or anything... And you’ve been in love with him for just as long. But everytime you’ve built up enough courage to finally tell him how you feel, something has gotten in the way. Last time the words were right on the tip of your tounge, but at the very second you’d opened your mouth, Juyeon had gotten an important call and had to rush off to work.
Come to think of it, its odd how much this romcom resembles your own life. Just like the female lead you’d had little luck in love. You’d also been mistaken for a couple numerous times when on ‘best friend dates’ with Juyeon and don’t get me started on waking up in the same bed after one drunken night. Though as it turns out nothing happened other than actually sleeping.
The only difference in the movie and reality is that her best friend had also been madly in love with her.
And that’s how you ended up balling your eyes out.
“(Y/N) what’s wrong?” Juyeon rushes over to you the second he finds you crying alone in the darkened room. Worry shoots through him when you fail to respond, the sounds of your blubbering making his heart ache.
Your attempt at explaining anything at all is ruined when you peak up and meet Juyeon’s gaze. It’s so sympathetic and filled with such worry that you can’t bring yourself to say a word. And anyway, how could you tell him the reason for your sadness now? That’d go down as the worst way in history to ever confess how you feel to someone.
“Just the movie.” You manage, bringing your sweater covered hands up to your face and brushing away any tears steaming down your cheeks.
“You had me worried just then!” Juyeon throws his head back, laughing as relief floods him.
“Sorry.” You half heartedly chuckle, feeling embarrassed by the whole situation.
You watch as Juyeon focuses back on you, silence surrounding you both as you stare at each other. You notice how Juyeon’s face becomes deep in thought. It almost feels like his eyes are taking in every part of your face, trying to remeber each feature. Though it’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. It’s how you see him look at the people he admires and that thought alone is enough you make your heart skip a beat.
“I just care about you a lot.” He whispers, his hand carefully reaching out to tuck the few loose strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face back behind your ear. The action carries a level of intimacy that makes you softly gasp. Juyeon’s gaze shifting back to meet yours when he notices your reaction.
There’s a brief moment between you where everything stands still. His hand paused by your ear, mid action. It’s like something changes between you, a spark igniting. But the sound of crashing ruins it all, both of your attentions drawn onto the noise coming from the next room.
“I’m ok!” You hear what sounds like Younghoon call after a few seconds, laughter bubbling up inside of you as you shake your head in disbelief.
“How is he so clumsy?” Juyeon jokes, retracting his hand away from your ear and awkwardly stuffing it into his pocket.
He stands back up from his crouching position, looking down at you with a subtle smile. You can tell he doesn’t want to leave, but he also can’t find an excuse to stay.
“Do you want to join?” You stupidly ask. It’s the only thing you could think of asking even though you’re pretty sure you already know the answer.
“I would but I just got called into practice... maybe next time?” He regretfully informs. You nod, trying to hide you disappointment but Juyeon can read you like a book so it’s not to much use.
“Maybe next time...” You trail off, voice hushed and disheartened as you watch Juyeon grab his bag and leave.
~
“Everything will go fine, just be confident.” Jacob encourages you, giving you a light nudge in Juyeon’s direction.
You’d roped Jacob into helping you ask Juyeon out because you were freaking out over the idea and needed some guidance and reassurance.
That’s how you’ve ended up purposefully trying to bump into Juyeon so you can causally ask him out.
Admiring from afar, you can’t help but feel flustered by how breathtaking he truly is. He’s engrossed in the books he’s reading, sat outside the small cafe just at the end of the block.
“Ok I’m going...” You cast a quick, unsure gaze behind you towards Jacob as he tries to keep hidden from Juyeon’s view.
“Go!” He whisper shouts through a laugh, finding your shyness incredibly endearing.
You finally take the first step, about to cross the busy road.
“Oh, hey Juyeon!” You smile and send a little wave over to him as you pretend to be surprised to see him.
“(Y/N), I didn’t know you came here?” He returns the warm smile, placing his book down carefully so he doesn’t lose his page.
“Oh yeah, they sell the best coffee here.” You bashfully laugh, trying to hide your nervousness.
“Well, there’s a free seat with me if u want to join?” Juyeon asks, a hopeful glint in his tone as he slightly raises his brow in question.
“Sounds great.” You smile.
~
“It really wasn’t as bad as you think it was.” Jacob tries and fails to hide his laughter. You cringe at yourself. You’re officially the most awkward person to ever exist.
After accepting Juyeon’s offer to join him for coffee, you’d spend ages talking and laughing together. But you hadn’t managed to ask him out. You were going to, but just as you were about to utter the words the most embarrassing thing happened to you.
“Jacob, a bird literally pooped on me.” You whine, flopping over into the cushions of the sofa. “How could I have possibly redeemed myself after that?” You exasperatedly cry.
“You had a minor set back and didn’t ask him out, so what. There’s always next time.” Jacob tires to console you.
You let out a “pft.” at his statement. Next time, there’ll never be a next time.
~
“I was just about to ask (Y/N) out and then bird poo splattered right across her clothes.” Juyeon relays the events to Eric, who bursts into uncontrollable laughter at the thought of being pooed on.
Although Juyeon thought it was funny, he could sense your embarrassment at the time and refrained from making any jokes about it. Even now as he watches Eric laugh he doesn’t join in, simply just watching the younger in mild amusement.
“So what do you want me to do about it?” Eric continues to laugh, having caught the giggles badly.
“I need you to help me ask (Y/N) out, where there’s no possibly of something disrupting it.” Juyeon pleas, watching as Eric calms himself down and becomes deep in thought.
“Ok sure, but I’m gonna need a few favours to get this set up.” He devilishly smirks. It’s the expression he always pulls when he has a plan and it always seems to unnerve Juyeon a little.
~
The plan was all set up and full proof, or according to Eric, poo proof.
You’d received a text from Juyeon to meet him at the dorms urgently, which sent you into a spiral of panic. It’s the quickest you’ve ever managed to get to the Boyz dorms from your apartment, and although you are completely out of breath, you are quite proud of yourself.
The door swings open to reveal Jacob holding a bowl of cereal and staring at you in confusion.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing here and why are you so out of breath?” He questions, eyeing you worriedly as you walk into their apartment before turning around to face him again.
“Juyeon said there was an emergency and to get here quick...” you inform, trailing off at the end when you notice Jacob’s suddenly contrasting expression. He’d manage to go from confused to looking like he knows something you don’t in half a second. Almost like he’s had some kind of realisation.
You don’t notice Eric signaling to Jacob from behind you, mouthing and pointing for him to play along and guide you into the living room.
“Oh yeah... in the living room.” You squint your eyes at Jacob, finding his sly behaviour out of character.
“Okay...” you trail off, slowly heading in the direction of the living room.
You gasp when you turn the corner. The room had practically been turned upside down. Instead of the usual sofa and small table, there was now a picnic blanket sprawled out across the floor. Everything had been set up like a typical picnic, just indoors and with a tv.
“Did you do all this?” You gush, your eyes finally landing on Juyeon who has been standing on the opposite side of the room anxiously waiting for you to arrive.
“Yeah...” He awkwardly chuckles, rubbing his hand behind his neck as he shyly smiles at you.
“It’s incredible.” You beam, beginning to walk across the dimly lit room. You can’t help the butterfly’s that flutter in your stomach. Just the thought that Juyeon went to all of this effort for you is so touching you could burst into tears. Happy tears of course.
“So, will you join me?” He musters up the courage to finally ask you. Seeing your overjoyed reaction had given him a little bit of a confidence boost.
“I’d love to.” You giggle, accepting Juyeon’s hand as he offers it for you to take, leading you over towards the blanket and, finally, sitting opposite.
“I wanted to ask you out the other day but I got interrupted.” You both chuckle at reminiscing about the funny turn of events.
“I was actually hoping to do the same... if it wasn’t for that bird.” You joke, heat raising up your face as you become flustered under Juyeon’s affectionate gaze.
“Hey, if that hadn’t of happened we wouldn’t be here right now.” Juyeon states, shrugging his shoulders and grinning cheekily. “And besides, that was kind of like our first date...” He smirks, gradually closing the space between you until your a few inches apart.
You hadn’t initially noticed how close you were sitting, but now, as you look up at Juyeon, you can’t tear your eyes away from his.
“Very true...” You agree, your voice so light you’re sure he can’t of heard you.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his hand on your waist, his lips capturing yours in a gentle kiss. As you pull away, grinning at each other like two idiots in love, you know it’s the beginning of a new chapter with Juyeon.
Regardless of all the failed attempts and embrassaing moments, you’re glad it hadn’t stopped Juyeon from making his move. And just like the movie, you realise that you are no longer lost in the world, because your world is sitting right in front of you.
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noire-pandora · 3 years
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Welcome! For DADWC, "When was the last time you ate anything?“
Hey! Thank you for the welcome and for this fun prompt. I love writing about a mother hen Solas xD. This prompt ended up a bit too long, sorry for that. For @dadrunkwriting
The cawing of Leliana's ravens mingled with the low murmur of people reading in the library, creating a soothing flow that Solas came to appreciate as the days passed. Normally this rhythm did not bother him, but today it prevented his mind from focusing on the document before him, no matter how hard he tried.
With a sigh, he rubbed his face and dropped the quill he had held motionless for five minutes in a failed attempt to write a complex and riveting account of the nature and uses of Veilfire, but his mind refused to dwell on the subject.
Instead, he stubbornly returned to the memory of the night he had spent in the Inquisitor's bed, wrapped in heavy and warm furs, her arms and legs drapped around his body. For more than an hour, his eyes memorised every line of Lavellan's face as the moon highlighted the pale freckles on her cheeks.
As she slumbered deeply, no concentrated frown playing about her brow, a deep peace softened her features and brought the long-desired calm to his mind.
To his surprise, as the morning dawned and they resumed their well-rehearsed roles, the pleasant numbness of his mind ensued, thwarting his efforts to concentrate. The image of his half-naked Vhenan clinging to his body somehow prevented any intelligent thought. Even when people spoke to him.
Solas smiled at the scroll in front of him, half amused and half irritated at his adolescentine like behaviour. He shared the bed with a beautiful woman (with nothing else happening in the double bed) and the intimacy of the moment made him feel as useless as if he were touching the thighs of a woman for the first time.
She is no ordinary woman, a thought wiggled in his already worked up head. The women I have touched in the past are pale shadows in comparison. None were as exquisite and provocative as she.
Yes. Lavellan was no ordinary woman. Under his fingers, her hot skin burned away every single barrier he'd built to keep emotions and passions at bay. Raw desire shook his body beneath her touch, a desire he'd thought long forgotten.
He shook his head to dispel the temptation as a tingling sensation rose in his belly. It was the wrong time and the wrong place to indulge his fantasies.
The sound of the chair scraping on the floor caused the ravens above him to startle as he decided to stretch his legs and look for a distraction to his wandering thoughts. As he exited the rotunda, his stomach announced with a loud growl that it was time for lunch.
Solas nodded and waved as various people strolling the halls of Skyhold paid him varying degrees of respect. The shadow of a smile played around his lips at the familiarity of the scene: he had returned the same greeting many decades ago, even if the ones offering them were the immortal elves of Elvhenan.
It took him a few minutes to descend the stairs and reach the castle's kitchen. The many aromas that emanated from the room tickled his nose and intensified the growling of his stomach.
"Messere Solas!" One of the cooks, a tall Fereldan with bright hazel eyes, smiled at him as he entered the room. "I knew you would come."
The kitchen swarmed with people in a hurry to prepare meals for those who had time to eat at Skyhold. The sound of clanging pots and pans, clinking silverware, and clattering dishes warmed his heart; this was where he truly belonged, among the people who understood the joy of a simple life. A life he had lost many years ago.
"Hunger has finally defeated our dear Inquisitor, hasn't it?" The cook laughed and placed two steaming bowls of meaty stew on a wooden tray, two fresh loaves of bread beside them. "I knew she’d send you."
Solas frowned. Every few days, when Elluin’s workload allowed it, they would share the delicious meal the cook prepared for them in the privacy of her room. A habit the cooks of Skyhold had learned and grinned at. A small romantic gesture he allowed himself.
But that was not the case today.
"No. I have not seen the Inquisitor yet today. I assumed her duties would keep her busy."
"Oh," the cook frowned. "I haven’t seen her since lunch yesterday."
"I see," Solas sighed.
Elluin preferred to eat in the kitchen, for the majority of the time, and though it took a few months for the surprise of the Inquisitor eating with them to wear off, the people of Skyhold accepted this strange behaviour.
"Is the Herald skipping meals again?" A young cook and one of Elluin's apprentices interjected into the conversation. She clicked her tongue as Solas nodded. "And she tells me never to skip a meal."
"The child is right, Messere Solas. Skipping meals is bad. Especially for someone like her." His eyes stared into Solas' soul, almost blaming him for Elluin's decision to skip meals.
"Indeed. I will personally search for the Inquisitor and bring her here. Please keep the food warm."
The cook nodded with a grin, and Solas felt the tips of his ears grow warmer. No matter how hard they tried, the truth about the depth of their relationship spread like wildfire, and the people of Skyhold gave him the same knowing smile when he worried about her safety.
It took him only a few minutes to find Elluin. A small group of noisy nobles arguing in the middle of Skyhold's courtyard and an exasperated Inquisitor clenched and unclenched her fist behind her back in what he assumed to be an attempt to keep her calm.
In the shade of a tree, he watched as the smile on Elluin's face grew wider, dangerously showing her teeth. The heated conversation continued for another five minutes until Lavellan's patience ran out and he dismissed the spoiled men with a promise to meet another day and analyse the situation.
Solas’ heart beat to his throat as she ran a hand over her face, the wrinkles of exhaustion marking her unusually pale face.
"Inquisitor, could I have a moment?"
For a second, the same forced smile she wore in front of the nobles tugged at her lips, only to be replaced by a brilliant grin, its warmth reflected in the green of her eyes. "Solas! Of course you can. As many moments as you need. Did something bad happen?"
"Depends on what you mean by bad. The cook found your absence from his kitchen worrisome."
Elluin's smile vanished instantly, to be replaced by a pout. "What a traitor."
"The cook is not a traitor. He cares about you and is concerned for your health. So am I.
She rolled her eyes, but Solas learned her strategies for shrugging off the importance of a subject. "You two worry too much."
"When was the last time you ate something, Vhenan?"
Elluin puffed out her cheeks like a child caught in the act, and Solas suppressed a smile that formed on his lips at the cuteness of her gesture. He had to stay strong.
"Elluin..." he warned, and her eyes grew wide at the mention of her name.
"Fine, fine. I can’t the last time I ate," she confessed, raising a finger in the air as Solas opened his mouth to speak. "Before you reprimate me, I didn't do it on purpose. I just had so many things to do that I just forgot. But I am fine."
The dark circles that stained the skin beneath her bloodshot eyes spoke against it, but Solas knew she could not care less about those signs of exhaustion. No, if he wanted to convince his Vhenan to change her erratic eating habits, he had to adopt a different strategy.
"Vhenan," he began, "your body is constantly fighting the ravaging effects of the Mark. Such a tremendous effort requires proper nutrition. If you continue to ignore this truth, your body will capitulate to the alien force that inhabits it.
"Solas," she tried to interrupt him, but he continued without giving her the opportunity to contradict him.
"If your body fails, I will be forced to use my healing powers to give it the strength it needs to continue," he saw the spark of realisation that pushed the growing annoyance from her face. "And when I do, all my healing powers will be used up to keep you alive, thus...."
"Thus you will use up your healing powers and your other patients and any incoming injured soldiers would be left without their experienced healer," she nodded, nibbling on her lower lip. "I understand."
Victory.
"Indeed. The only way to prevent that is to fuel your body to withstand the attacks of the Mal. With food."
Elluin wrinkled her nose as she stared at him, and he could almost see the little wheels turning in the back of her head. It was a flimsy strategy, but Solas knew she cared more about the safety of the people who worked under her than anything else. More than her own health.
He offered her his arm with a gentle smile of encouragement. "Come. The cook is waiting for us with a warm rabbit stew. Let us not keep him waiting too long."
Elluin snorted, but accepted his offer and the two sauntered on as their stomachs growled in protest.
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hes-writer · 4 years
Text
Exclusive Content
this is a master list of all one shots, blurbs, series parts, and unfinished content that i have posted on patreon (so far)! click the title to read the sneak peek (if i’ve posted one)
———
*+VALENTINE’S DAY
the one where harry has an eventful day
“Shit! Are you crazy?” Y/N gasped in surprise when the passengers seat was occupied, the door opening and slamming shut all while the car moved at a speed of 15 km/h —cursing her forgetfulness for not clicking the locks shut.
“Keep driving!” The passenger shouted, looking back through the windshield.
* ACHY BACK
the one where y/n’s back hurts and harry draws a bath
“Took too long,” Y/N mumbled as they met in the middle, knuckling tiredly at her eyes. A pout sat on her face as Harry stopped himself from ducking his head and catching her plush lips with his, craving the sweet taste of her and her strawberry lip balm. Her arms wrapped around his snatched waist, halting his breath at the tightness of her embrace and settling for a kiss on her forehead, the scent of her shampoo wafting in his nostrils, knowing that she had taken a shower hours prior. Her back had been aching since then, the pain barely bearable for her stature, causing a crease in between his brows.
+ A LETTER TO THE MAN I’VE LOVED
the one where harry receives a letter from y/n
Is it really worth it to look back in retrospect about ‘what had been’ when she can think about ‘what could have been’ if both of them realized their faults? Granted, he was more resilient in that sense than her, but he was no better at the time. She made mistakes and it had haunted her to this day, practically killing her with each moment she spent without him by her side.
+ UNWAVERING (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
the one where harry cheats (another version of ‘a cheat’)
"I-I'm in a bit of a rush, baby.” He took a step back, increasing the distance between them. "I have a meeting today. Lots of work to be done," Harry responded his tone suggesting that he didn’t want to talk anymore. Y/N nodded to please him.
"Right. Maybe we can go out tonight to grab some dinner," She suggested, a hopeful glint in her eyes and he almost felt guilty for putting her at the back burner of his mind.  
"I really have to go, baby," Peeking his head around her frame, he spotted the untouched toast and apple juice resting on where he should be. "I'm sorry."
+ ALL I ASK
the one where feelings aren’t mutual and hearts are broken
“I don’t want to be scared of what will happen tomorrow or if all we have is right now because we’ll have nothing left but I am,” A sob ripped through his throat, emotions were heightened tenfold because she was so close yet so far and they were still Harry and Y/N but at the same time they weren't. They’ve changed over the span of one night. “All we have is tonight,”
* LITTLE PRINCE
the one where harry and y/n are 7-year olds
Harry gasped in horror, crouching to his knees and getting his knee dirty beside the girl.
"Y/N? Y/N! Are you okay? I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen. I swear I wasn't mad at you, I was just jok- Why are you smiling?" Harry yelped, panic evident in his shrill voice. His hands wandered towards her face, tilting it left to right, up and down, searching for any visible and invisible injuries besides the bump on her forehead.
RENEGADE
the one where y/n teaches harry the ‘renegade’ dance
“What are y’doing?” Harry asked, his eyes wide as his large palms ruffled the fluffy towel on his damp curls. The steam from the bathroom escaped to your bedroom where you were panting with effort, your chest heaving so hard that the peaks of your breasts rose with each breath. 
“Uh, what are you doing?” You retorted slowly, hiding your hands behind your back were your fingers gripped your phone. Your thumb dug hard on the volume bottom, frantically trying to decrease the music from the phone speaker. 
DROP THE TOWEL (m)
the one where harry does the ‘drop the towel’ challenge
“Hey, babe,” He greeted, walking closer to you in a towel that made him feel liberated. You hummed in a silent greeting, giving him a smile before doing a double-take at his appearance. He dropped the towel on the floor, his length hanging proudly between his legs. 
You gasped at the sight, the knife clanging on the marble counter, “Ooh, hi there,”
He smirked cockily, watching your eyes observe his body, tongue subconsciously peeking out between your lips until you snapped your head to the window, “Oh my god! There are people out there, Harry,” You wailed in alarm, bending over to hand him his towel.
DREAM WITH ME (exclusive content as of right now) - this fic will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus
the one where y/n has trouble falling asleep
Harry’s admiration gets interrupted when a sudden jolt took over Y/N’s body. He dropped his mouth open a little in shock, rubbing her back soothingly when she whimpered quietly, “Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe with me,” She must have had experienced one of those moments when she was falling until her vision drooped to a shaded black. 
DIGRESS (1) PROGRESS (2) REGRESS (3) 
the one where love fails
What happens when love fades away? How do you cope with the feelings disappearing slowly like a blot of dark blue paint diluting with every stroke of a ruffled paintbrush? Y/N wondered if there was a chance to fixing what has been lost--what has disappeared as the canvas soaked through in a permeated osmosis. Coating the brush of blue with white paint took several layers to completely cover the mistakes. There had to be an effort in wanting to make the faults and errors completely opaque from the eye; the bleary, watery irises soaked with tears, dampening her lashes in a thick haze as she cried.
ROUTINE (1) (the first part will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus. following parts will be patron-exclusive content)
the one where harry is a camboy
In a blink of an eye, Harry’s toned body was showcased on the screen, allowing him to view what his viewers had the pleasure of seeing. The ‘LIVE’ sign blinked repeatedly.
“Hello,” Harry drawled out purposefully using a deeper tone to set the mood. “How are you today?” His fingers stayed hung over the armchair, griping it slightly when comments started rolling in.
NOTES ON CAMP (1) (2) (3) (exclusive content as of right now) - this fic will be posted on Tumblr when I return from my hiatus
Y/N plastered a smile on her face as she shook Belle’s hand. “Sorry but I need to steal Harry away,” Belle tugged on his tattooed arm, fingers clasping around his wrists as he started walking along with her. “See you, Y/N!” Harry greeted, turning around with his arm draped over Belle’s shoulder.
“See you,” She whispered under her breath, looking at his retreating figure towards the cafeteria. Y/N couldn’t help the disappointment she felt, her shoulders slouching at the realization that it was too good to be true. Of course, he had a girlfriend.  A gentleman with chiselled features and a caring personality complimenting her? No way. Still, she wasn’t too sad about it. It wasn’t like they’ve known each other for long. Plus, they were co-workers! It would feel wrong to start a relationship anyway.
STRESSED OUT
the one where y/n is stressed and harry wants her to take a break
“What d’ya mean I don’t get it?” He closed the paperback, making sure to clip in his bookmark to save his spot.
A pregnant pause slithered the room. Her fingers typing against the keys of her laptop ceased as she shot him a glare, “You’re not studying, are you? All you do is write songs, fiddle with a few instruments and sing it in front of people who adore you,”
Harry physically pulled his chest back. He felt like he had been shot. He knew she didn’t mean it though, but it still hurt to hear, “O-oh. I didn't know y-you felt that way,”
She continued, “You don’t know what it’s like having to spend hours researching so you don’t get anything wrong. Sleepless nights to perfect one paragraph that my professor nitpicks to the bone,” Y/N penned a few words on her notebook, not noticing the pout plastered on Harry’s face.
DESSERT
the one where harry wants something else
She pulled away, shaking her head adamantly, “No way! I spent all day cooking and you’re not gonna skip it just to eat my pussy,”
He the corners of his eyes squinted in offence at her description, “Your pussy’s top tier, baby.” Harry ‘tsked’ his tongue, “If yeh didn’t know that already, then I’m doing a horrid job,”
PET NAME
the one bff!harry just wants y/n to call him by his pet name
“Am I, Harry? Seems like you’re putting me at the back burner nowadays,”
He was speechless; had he? Harry didn’t mean to make her feel this way but he wasn’t aware that he was actively blowing her off for Ruby. And why won’t she call him ‘honey’? That was his nickname, wasn’t it? H stood for Harry but it was also the pet name Y/N had given him.
His voice emulated a soft, syrupy tone that lingered in the air whenever he spoke. He was the colour honey itself--golden and yellow like the colour of the sun. Harry was bright in its sense of intelligence and the way he illuminated the whichever room he entered. His kindness catered to everyone’s needs and left pieces of his heart wherever he went.
Harry was honey.
ROOMMATES SERIES (3) (4) (5) (6)
the one where harry and y/n are roommates
updates every 2 weeks!
will not be posted on Tumblr until the series is finished
Y/N gasped at Harry’s proximity, lids snapping open with her hand reaching over to pat along until she found her phone which was blaring with an alarm that she had set. Harry gulped, eyes wide as his mind ran through what the hell just happened.
“What are you doing here? Get out!” She yelled, tugging the sheets higher on her body. 
“I-I was just waking you up so you can make us dinner,” Harry stuttered out, his excuse sounding lame but he patted himself on the shoulder for making it up on the spot. Well, that was his intention in the first place until he got distracted.
FRIENDS DON’T MINI-SERIES (1) (2) (3)
“Is this okay?” Her doe irises searched his. Harry raised his head lazily to make eye contact, nodding his head with a bit lip. Y/N clenched her inner thighs together at his already blissed-out state, his pupils slowly becoming larger with arousal. “Friends don’t touch each other this way,” She purposefully drew out her statement, giving Harry an out of the situation if he needed to.
“More than okay,”
FIC EXTRAS #1 - TEASE
the one before ‘under the table’
“Fuckin’ dirty,” He spat, the pads of his thumb tracing circles on her hipbones, not feeling a trace of clothing resting on her hips. “Wearin’ a short dress with no panties,”
Y/N hummed, arms slanting behind her to support her upper body so that she could spread her legs further, making room for Harry’s hand. “Didn’t feel like it,”
“Y’just waiting for me to find out, hmm? You knew I couldn’t resist myself when you look so goddamn pretty,”
UNFINISHED DRABBLE #1
the one with fratboy!harry
“Y’alright?” Harry’s husky breath barely made its way to her ears, only then did Y/N feel the hand palming her lower back, another one gripped around her shoulders. Her front flushed against his own, feeling his hard chest on her heaving ones. She peeked one eye open, looking around at her angled stance, then to Harry who wore a concerned look scanning her face. Y/N nodded in response, blinking rapidly, her nipples hardening at a sudden cold breeze beneath the thin fabric of her dress, surely poking him through his shirt. She blushed at the thought and his brief glance over her where they touched, his eyes dilating the tiniest amount.
UNFINISHED DRABBLE #2
the one where harry’s a cheating asshole
Harry wormed his way through his delectable voice and his ever-present words that somehow scorched your shield to the ground. Again. He promised never to do it again and your love-sick heart trusted him. Again. 
But your trust wasn’t something that was particularly valuable to him. To Harry, it would always be there, lingering like the stars in the night sky; always present, always gleaming. Harry was very sorry for what he was doing to you. It was ironic, really; he hoped and prayed every day that you wouldn’t find out but his carelessness left everything out in the open.  
TEXT MESSAGES #1
the one where y/n has silly thoughts
TEXT MESSAGES #2
the one where harry and y/n share the same class 
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imagine-loki · 4 years
Text
Taking turns
TITLE: Taking turns
CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot
AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki getting a touch of heatstroke while in Jotun form, and climbing into a bathtub full of ice cubes to cool down.
One slight hitch – his low Jotun body temperature makes the ice cubes stick and freeze together, trapping him in a block of ice
RATING: T
NOTES/WARNINGS: Started out as a comedy idea and ended something entirely different. Some language, suggestions of sex, and soft Loki. 
Forty minutes. Loki was forty minutes late. Loki was forty minutes late and they were all starving.
“Becks, you want to go check on the drama queen? Tell him he’s either here in five or we’re leaving without him!” Tony grumbled, looking a little worse for wear with his black eye.
The team had gotten back from a mission in South America. They were all sporting various colored bruises, cuts, and casts. They were all exhausted. Still, they had decided, as a group, that they would go and grab dinner to celebrate a successful expedition before they all crashed for a week. However, while everyone had showered, patched up, and returned to the common room within a half hour, Loki was still nowhere in sight forty minutes after their accorded meet time. While Loki was known to prod at Tony’s buttons just for the hell of it, he had never gone as far as dragging the full team down. And he was a stickler for a schedule.
Becca sighed, abandoning her spot on the couch with a groan. The angry cut on her side that Bruce had finished patching a few minutes prior screamed in protest. “He’s probably moving slow. He was kinda fading there, at the end of the mission. I hope nothing’s wrong.”
“There better be! If not, why the hell is he not here?”
“Jesus, Tony! Your pockets are filled with blueberries. Have a snack. Settle down.” She skirted around Wanda and Vision on the loveseat before taking off down the hall.
Loki’s rooms were at the end of the furthermost east wing. It was a nice enough area, but there wasn’t much more around. That was on purpose, both on Tony and Loki’s part. Though there was some semblance of mutual respect between them, they generally tried to be as far apart from each other as was physically possible. And Loki liked the silence. No one interrupted his odd sleeping patterns or quiet contemplation. It made it a little hard to make sure he was alive, though.
“FRIDAY, is Loki OK?” Becca asked when she reached his door, finding it locked.
“Er… define OK.”
A million thoughts raced through her mind. The mission had been intense, but it was mostly due to being in unfamiliar terrain and climate. It had been a full week of unbearable heat and dastardly humidity. Her own Caribbean countenance, well-versed in matters of heat, had swayed dangerously under the oppressive temperatures. Ever since Loki revealed the truth about his parentage to the team, Becca always made it a point to check in with him if they were under blistering sun or steamy foxholes. She clearly had not paid him enough mind this time around.
“Open the door.”
“Loki asked–”
“NOW.”
FRIDAY was not about to argue with her, it seemed. The lock clicked under her fingers and the door swung open easily.
The living room and kitchen were empty, as was the bedroom. She could see the door to the en suite slightly ajar and light spilling out into the shadowed bedroom. Her feet moved on their own accord towards the brightness.
“Loki?”
A handful of Asgardian curses accented the air. “Don’t!” He hissed, just as her hand met the wood of his bathroom door. “Just leave.”
He was promptly ignored. “Are you alright?” The door creaked open, but she did not enter.
“Please, just leave.” His voice sounded shaky. It didn’t give her much incentive to turn around.
“Tell me what’s wrong or I’m coming in.”
“Rebecca…” Without waiting for the rest of his excuse, she slipped through the doorway.
Loki’s bathroom was lovely. A large sunken bath took up most of the space that was paneled in dark woods and golden accents. There was the faint smell of sandalwood in the air, which seemed to hover at a perfect 75 degrees. The Asgardian was in the bath, covered in what Becca now noticed was ice. It disappointed her to know that she truly hadn’t paid enough mind to his propensity to heatstroke. Her concern was great enough that she had not even spared an extra thought to the fact that he was blue and his eyes were red orbs that ominously followed her around the room.
“Are you OK? What can I get you? Fuck.” Her right hand reached for her ear, activating her comms. “Tony–”
“No, don’t!” Loki’s instinct was to lunge in an effort to stop her, but succeeded only in moving the awkward lump of ice around his form to leave him slumped forward.
Various expressions flashed through Becca’ face–concern, alarm, confusion, amusement. Her comms buzzed in hear ear, prompting a follow-up. “Er, you guys are going to have to go on without us. Bring us something back, OK?” The hand in her ear lowered to cover her mouth. Loki didn’t need to see her mouth to know she was grinning or that the noise was trying to conceal was a snort of laughter and not a cough. “You, er–”
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
A giggle overcame her. “You OK there, buddy?”
The snarl from his curled mouth gave her a clear view of sharpened teeth and plum-colored gums. Her hand dropped, knowing it was no use to hide her amusement any longer. Bending at the waist, she pulled the laces off of her combat boots, toeing them off, before pulling her socks off after them. Her bare feet pounded tile until she was at the edge of the tub and was able to sink to her knees.
“Go. Away.” The growl that punctuated his words was lost in the shiver of his voice. Maybe Jotuns could get cold.
Becca tutted under her breath, holding her warm hand onto his cheek. Her thumb trailed distractedly over a raised line before sweeping inky black hair away from his eyes. “Loki, you’re stuck in an ice cube. I’m not leaving you here.” The whispered words held no jest or mockery and the warmth emanating from her digits seemed to be well-received, if the way he pressed lightly on them was any indication.
She carefully clambered over his form to reach for the extendable shower-head mounted in the wall behind him. “It’s going to have to be warm, OK?” Her hands fiddled at the taps and experimentally sprayed at her hands to gauge the temperature. “If you start not feeling well, tell me.” Her warm brown eyes maintained contact with his until he was forced to nod.
A hiss leaked through his clenched teeth as water trickled between the ice cubes and found its way onto his skin. By the time that happened, it would cool considerably, but it was still an uncomfortable sensation, nonetheless. Becca mumbled apologies as her hands turned pale, and then a chilled pink from shifting cubes away as they melted.
“This is taking forever,” Loki muttered, resting his head back against the wall, eyes clenched closed.
“I’m afraid of going any warmer when you’re like this, Lo. I don’t want to hurt you.” His brow pulled tightly in a frown before moving back to concern. It was as if he had forgotten he was in his other form, but the tight clench of his jaw told Becca that the detail was sure not to escape his notice ever again.
“I don’t care.”
“Yeah, but I do.”
Getting the bulk of the ice not stuck to his body to melt away was the biggest endeavor, but it was happening quickly enough. Once the bath was only about half-full, it was easier to start freeing Loki’s limbs. The problem was that steam was starting to fog up the room and his head lolled to the side every now and again as he became weaker. There was still a layer of ice, a few inches thick, preventing him from moving.
“Hey. How about you talk to me? To keep awake,” Becca urged, carding her fingers through his hair to clear his face. “Tell me a story.”
Loki groaned, eyes barely blinking open to look up at her. The noise of complaint only deepened at the genuine smile that greeted him on the other end. “Once upon a time, I was an idiot and got stuck in ice and a mortal too stubborn for her own good had to get me out of it. The end.”
Becca giggled. “I think you forgot to mention how cute the mortal was or how handy she was with a shower-head.”
“Oh, forget it. Just leave me here to die.”
“You should have just called me.”
“Why on Earth, would I willingly call you to free me of this embarrassment?” His scarlet eyes bore straight into her soul with annoyance and irritation, but couldn’t help but soften at her playful expression. “I don’t want to furnish you with anecdotes to tell Stark and the others.”
“I’m not telling them about this.” At his questioning stare, she continued. “I only need to tell them that you weren’t feeling well and I chose to stay behind. They don’t need details.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I wouldn’t want them to know if it had happened to me.” Most of the loose ice was now gone. Becca put the shower-head down and moved to the other side of the bath to activate the stopper and open the larger tap. “I’m going to fill the tub with warm water and that will probably melt the rest away without much issue.”
“I… I don’t think I can go much warmer without passing out.” Loki admitted, softly, eyes rounded and pleading.
She turned her face to him and smiled. “I’ll be here. I have you. I promise.”
The tub filled and the faint crackle of shifting ice could be heard over the sound of their breathing. Becca fished her cell phone out of her pocket and tossed it a few ways away from the tub, before slipping into the water, jeans, t-shirt and all. Loki was lolling again, so Becca thought the best course of action was to put a little force on the already fissured sheets and easing them off.
Her hands started at his legs, squeezing lightly at places where the ice seemed to give and breaking apart the pieces, watching absently as they bobbed up the surface before melting away completely. It wasn’t until she reached his thighs that it occurred to her that maybe feeling Loki up was not the of ideas. Still, he was drifting in an out and fading fast. She would risk a little awkward groping for the sake of getting him free before he drifted any further. She paused near mid thigh, her cheeks turning a deep pink before she pivoted and worked on his arms. His hands and wrists were already free, and it took little effort to slide off the ice off the rest of his arms. His back was mostly thawed and she could remove a large piece covering his chest. There was only the awkward bit to get through now. Biting the inside of her cheek, she prodded for any loose ice and broke the sheets as gently as she could while not wasting time.
Pulling the stopper, she gathered Loki into her chest, putting her arms under his and pulling him to the edge. He was deceptively heavy, Becca realized; a dense creature like a collapsing star. She struggled with the settings on the shower-head and gradually turned the water spray from warm to cool to frigid cold. She shivered heavily behind him, Loki only stirred, slowly coming back into himself.
Becca clambered out, clumsily. Her extremities were cold and numb and she was shivering heavily. Knowing she wasn’t going to clear walking for another moment, she pulled her knees up to her chest and folded into herself for warmth. Her eyes fell onto Loki who, now alert, was taking the steps out the tub with her zeroed in his sights. Despite the fact that she had just run her hands over every line, dot, and hash of his body, seeing it in plain display felt more intimate. He made no effort to cover himself or change back into his Asgardian form, though she suspected that was more so the fact that he was still weak. Not that she minded. In this form he was terrifying. He oozed brute strength and savagery–very different from his Asgardian counterpart–but she found that she liked it. It was akin to finding money in an old coat–you weren’t expecting it, but you’re glad you did.
“You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He sunk to his knees before her with a guarded look.
“I would, but my hands decided to stop working.” She forced a laugh. “It’s OK. Just let me warm a degree or two and I’ll get out of your hair.” He pressed a hand to her back, making wide circles to create friction. His touch made her shudder gratefully. “At least I’m not warm enough to make you uncomfortable.”
“I like you warm,” he offered after a long pause. His black talon-tipped hands slid under the back of her t-shirt and pulled the material away from her skin, easing it off gently. It took little prodding to make her unwind her arms from around her knees. He discarded the garment beside her before working on the clasp of her bra, which joined it a moment later. Pulling her jeans off her hips was a bit harder, as the denim adhered to her skin like it was another living layer, but he managed to tug them off and down her legs along with her underwear. Reaching behind her, he pulled a towel from the shelf, putting it around her shoulders and proceeding to rub her down. “Thank you, Rebecca.” She got the distinct feeling he didn’t just mean for freeing him of his ice prison.
“Not a problem. Just… maybe don’t do it again without supervision.” The words had left her mouth out of their own volition and the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks was all but impossible to hide. “That came out weird. I didn’t mean it like–not that I don’t find you stupidly attractive–I just–”
He slanted his lips against hers, cutting off whatever rambling rabbit hole she was fixing to throw herself down. “Let me warm you up in my bed,” he mumbled against her lips, his fingertips making sinful shapes against her naked skin.
“But–”
“You can cool me after. We’ll take turns.” With a half-suppressed moan, she threw her arms around his neck and allowed him to carry her off into the bedroom. She would worry about him overheating later.
121 notes · View notes
loreofthekidults · 4 years
Text
Cocoa & Chili | Yoon Jeonghan
Tumblr media
focus: jeonghan
words: 2k
genre: stranger things au / high school au / marching band au? / fall themes
description: I’ve been really missing stranger things this year, and with the onset of fall, I decided to start writing instead of just moping around bc lets be honest, without svt I’m not sure we could remain sane this year. Thank you to all the hosts of the #caratrevival event, it’s really motivating and inspiring to see all these creators! This week’s themes were Jeonghan and your Favorite Hip-Hop Unit song, which in my case is Chilli. Hope you enjoy the references!
a/n: Thank you to @woozisnoots​ for making such an amazing banner for this fic. Check out her writing too and enjoy!
Also, happy birthday Jeonghan!
____________________
Jeonghan stomped down the stairs into the warmly lit basement. He scanned the room for the small, black case, but blankets, board games, and backpacks were strewn into every corner and across every surface. He stalked past the group crowded around the round table staring intently at their character sheets. 
“Have you seen my flute case, Seokmin?” Jeonghan called out to his younger cousin behind him. He threw a pile of jackets off the floral armchair and rummaged a hand through the cushions. Nope, not there. 
“No idea!” The kid didn’t even lift his head from arranging the grid with the figurines of his new campaign. 
“Are you really not going to tell me?” Jeonghan gushed as he hopped over and encased Seokmin in a suffocating bear hug. He pulled his scrawny cousin off his chair and began to swing him back and forth in the air. “Pleeease? Please please please? Just give me a hint.”
Seokmin, ever the happy bug, screamed his head off like a pigeon in fright while intermittently shrieking in laughter. 
Across the table, Mingyu giggled but continued to roll for his stats. Vernon spared them a glance, but simply chose to ignore the chaos beside him while Hoshi guffawed his distinctive laugh and clapped his seal clap. Seungkwan sighed dramatically but couldn’t help joining in on the attack.
“Come on, tell him! Then we can finally get him out of our hair and start playing!” Seungkwan protested as he tickled his helplessly flailing friend. 
“Okay, okay!” Seokmin gasped, “Check the vcr pile—it’s probably somewhere there.” He pointed to the corner of the room where a mountain of plastic cases rose beside their boxy television. Jeonghan immediately let him go, letting him drop heavily onto the carpeted floor. It only took a moment of scavenging for him to spot his flute case stacked underneath Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and his collection of Twilight Zone tapes.  
“Is it a home game today?” Vernon asked, glancing at the marching band helmet lying on the table.
“Yup, glad we don’t have to travel an hour to Soomantown just to watch their football team wreck ours again. We can get wrecked 10 minutes from home this time,” Jeonghan chuckled as he grabbed his shako helmet and ruffled Seokmin’s chestnut-brown hair. “Thanks, bud.”
“DM for us next time,” Seokmin hollered after him, his head a mess. “We miss your campaigns!”
“Alright, maybe next time.” Jeonghan stuffed his instrument and shako into his Jansport and threw on his periwinkle blue marching band jacket. “Don’t forget there’s Grandma’s chili in the crockpot if you guys get hungry.” He clamored back up the stairs, out of the toasty basement of his childhood where he used to weave magical stories of monsters and heroes with them. 
It wasn’t as if he no longer liked Dungeons and Dragons and the crazy storytelling that came with it, but he had other things to fill his time than sitting at home playing make-believe, especially with—as much as he loved these kids—newly minted freshmen.
As Jeonghan opened the garage door, he was met with the crisp smell of decaying leaves and fresh air of October. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in. Oof, so chilli. 
A slight moldy stink tickled his nostrils, though. Crinkling his nose, he opened his eyes just to see another kid speeding on his bike up the driveway to the house.
“Hey, Jeonghan,” The kid hopped off and threw his bike haphazardly onto the grass. “Nice outfit.” He swung his backpack at him as he dashed past him into the house. 
“You better hurry up Dino, else they’ll start without you,” Jeonghan called, half-heartedly dodging the swing.
By the time Jeonghan parked his car behind the high school and strolled onto the fields toward the rest of the marching band, he couldn’t help but miss the cozy heat of the basement. 
Rubbing his hands together desperate for any warmth, Jeonghan walked towards where Joshua was kneeling in the grass assembling his clarinet. They waved at each other in greeting and began sharing complaints like two elderly patients deeply offended by the cold seeping into their joints.
Seungcheol shuffled over and pointed a gloved finger at Jeonghan. “Late! That’s going on your record Yoon Jeonghan.” He made an overly exaggerated effort in taking out his pen and writing Jeonghan’s name in his notebook. 
“Chill, man. What’s the point of being friends with the drum major if I can’t dodge the rules sometimes?” Jeonghan whined despite laughing at his friend’s antics. 
Seungcheol just wagged his finger at him accusingly. “Make him run laps,” Joshua softly suggested with his mischievous smile. 
“No time, unfortunately. We gotta go warm up soon.” Eyes scanning the expanse of light blue uniforms, Seungcheol was back into drum major mode. “Oh hey, the trumpet girl is late, too.”
They turned to look at the new girl in town stepping onto the field. It wasn’t often their small town had any visitors, even rarer a new resident family. 
“Anyways,” Seungcheol clapped his hands, “let’s get into your sections.” He wandered off into the crowd, ordering his classmates to start warming up while brandishing his trombone in one hand like a disgruntled substitute teacher. 
Joshua stopped Jeonghan for a moment before they separated and handed him a hand warmer. “Thanks!” “Nope, I’m keeping the other three.” Jeonghan snickered as he shoved Joshua away and joined the rest of the flutes in their warm up drills.  
As expected, their marching band show was performed without a hitch, and the spectators gushed over the color guard with their periwinkle blue and rose pink flag formations. 
And as expected, the opposing football team with their star players totally squashed Pledies High’s football team. 
When half-time finally crawled into view, Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol could not be more ecstatic. It was only 7pm, but the autumn chill settled like a thick blanket over the field. Playing bleacher features to a futile game on cold metal seats didn’t do much to keep them warm either. 
So when they were finally allowed to put their instruments away and take a break from the disaster of a game, they quickly squeezed their way through the crowd to get to the snack shop and raffle tables. 
Leaning against the fence by the edge of the field, the trio cuddled their cups of hot cocoa in their hands and inhaled the sweet steam like desperate sharks around blood.
Jeonghan scrunched his eyebrows as he detected the funky scent that he couldn’t quite identify mixed in with the sugary smell.
A presence softly rustled behind Jeonghan and murmured slowly. Shivers shot through Jeonghan, and he whipped his head toward the quiet voice. His sudden jerk sploshed some of the hot cocoa onto his hand, burning his fingers and making him even more panicked. He instinctively leaned in towards Joshua, away from whatever creeped up next to him. 
Jeonghan let out a breath as he recognized the figure. The tall, lean person next to him wore a fitting varsity jacket from the visiting school. His face wore a nonchalant expression that morphed into one of surprise as he did a double take when he finally got a good look at Jeonghan’s face.
“Oh, wait. You’re not Johnny.” He turned away in embarrassment and sauntered back into the crowd, presumably to find his not-Jeonghan friend.
“He thought I was one of their star football players?” Jeonghan asked incredulously, looking bug eyed at his friends. Seungcheol giggled and flicked a strand of his hair. “Must be the silky locks.”
As Joshua and Seungcheol played with his hair, Jeonghan saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He caught a whiff of that same moldy funk.
“Guys, do you smell that?” Jeonghan pushed himself off the fence and squinted at the dark foliage behind the bleachers.  
“Smell what?” Seungcheol sniffed the air and rubbed his nose. Joshua followed Jeonghan’s gaze. “Is that trumpet girl?”
The blue uniform could just be barely made out against the shadows of the tree line. She appeared to be climbing into the thick shrubbery.
“Maybe she lost something?” He gestured for his friends to follow him. “Come on, let’s go help her.” Jeonghan discarded his empty cup in the trash bin and walked towards the trees. Joshua calmly blinked a few times before trudging along forward with him.
“What could she have lost so far into the woods?” Seungcheol whined. But he couldn’t hide his concern in his voice as he also curiously, and apprehensively, peered into the darkness after her. 
They ventured past the bleachers away from the stadium lights into the trees. Here, among the branches and brambles, the shadows blended into each other and the volume of the crowd behind them was muffled.
Joshua took out a small keychain flashlight attached to his swiss-army knife. With its measly light, they made their way through underbrush, past twisty trees, and around thorny vines. The football field was only a short distance away, but the atmosphere felt heavy with the night and the trees seemed to be watching them.
“Guys, are you sure she went this way?” Seungcheol’s voice climbed higher by a few pitches as he reluctantly fell in step behind them.
Snaps of twigs and distant growling could be heard ahead of them. Jeonghan coughed slightly as he breathed, the moldy scent creeping through the air formidably. It felt like the air was lined with layers of webs of sticky mold, and no amount of flailing could unstick the smell. 
“Man, you weren’t kidding earlier. This smell is nauseating.” Joshua whispered nasally, fingers pinching his nose.
They came to a clearing where a creature seemed to be digging at the roots of a tree. Jeonghan couldn’t quite make out what it was. But he was sure it wasn’t just a dog that escaped their yard. It’s movements were… off.
It was about the size of a medium-sized dog, but without any of the expected pupper qualities. Its leathery skin rippled like damp velvet and slime was oozing off in tiny droplets. When the brightness from Josh’s flashlight hit its back, the creature whipped around immediately. Where there should have been a face, its head opened up like a blooming flower, with five petal lined with rows of teeth. It screamed a bobcat scream and pranced forward at the trio. 
Stumbling backwards, Jeonghan grabbed a stick from the ground and swung it wildly in front of him. Joshua was crouched in a defensive position with his flashlight in a trembling hand but was frozen shock-still, swiss army knife totally forgotten. Seungcheol grabbed Jeonghan’s shoulders behind him, holding him as a barrier between him and the creature. 
Shrieking, Seungcheol mustered all the courage he had and threw the remaining bits of hot cocoa in his cup at the creature. The liquid hit it square in the face, making the monster rear back in surprise for a moment. But after a wary lick, it seemed to lap up the spilt drink deliciously.
“Did you just feed the monster?” Jeonghan hissed.
“It’s all I have on me! What else could I throw at it?” Seungcheol waved his arms wildly as he returned to his post behind Joshua and Jeonghan, pulling on their jacket sleeves to get them to back slowly away from the clearing. 
“I don’t know, maybe a rock or something?” Joshua whisper-screamed in a very un-Joshua manner.
“Chill, buddy, Chill,” Jeonghan held the stick in front of him and waved it gently to the left. And right. Then left. 
The creature closed its face petals to form a bud-like head which followed the motion of the stick curiously. Right and left and right.
Jeonghan winded up his arm and threw the stick to the distant side of the clearing. The creature turned and ran after the branch, demolishing it with its teeth. Splinters flew everywhere.
“Go, go, go, go, go!” Jeonghan turned and shoved Joshua and Seungcheol. They scrambled blindly past the thorns, out of the woods, and into the bright lights of the field. They reached the back of the bleachers, and Seungcheol grasped them deliriously into a tight embrace. Josh was still wide-eyed while Jeonghan was giggling half hysterically from the remnants of the adrenaline. 
“Whoa, what happened to you guys?” The trio looked up and saw trumpet girl standing before them, eyebrows raised and a leaf sticking out of her hair.
“You’re alive!” Jeonghan gasped. The trio looked at each other bewildered and cackled deliriously.
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comicgeekscomicgeek · 3 years
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Their Hero Academia - Chapter 83: Of Sound and Wings
Continuing my nextgen MHA fic!
Earlier chapters can be found here
To say Toshi was worried was an understatement.  While no one had said anything bad would happen if they lost the relay, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it his all. Which meant he had to make sure he wasn’t going to let anyone else down either.  And he was more than certain that, however the relay worked out, Aizawa and Uncle Kacchan would be using whatever he saw to help format their lessons going forward.  Their teacher would just use any failings to push them all the harder.
He couldn’t allow his differences with Tatsuma to be the reason they failed.  While there hadn’t been any more violence or any scuffles between the U.A. and Shiketsu students (Not even from Katsumi, which seemed to be a minor miracle in and of itself), there was still a strained feeling when some members of the two groups interacted.  And Tatsuma had made a point of avoiding him.
He needed to be able to clear the air with the Shiketsu girl.  Even if there was still bad blood afterwards, he needed to apologize and he needed to make sure that they’d be able to work together.  Plenty of Heroes didn’t get along off the field but could put their differences aside enough to fight alongside each other.  He would have liked to at least get to that point.
They had a few minutes before they had to start getting ready, so he sought her out, finding her standing alone.  The other Shiketsu students looked to have already peeled off to find their respective U.A. partners.
“Ah, hey, Tatsuma,” he began.  “Do you have a minute to talk?”
Tatsuma didn’t budge an inch. When she spoke she didn’t even turn around. “Later than I expected this to happen. The instructors have forced your hand.”
Toshi frowned and swallowed nervously.  “You’re right,” he said.  “I have been putting this off.”  Not very heroic of him, really.  “And the timing makes it look even less great than it already is.”
Best to just get it out there.
“I owe you an apology.”
She turned to look at him now. With her arms crossed and her stoic stance, it made her already tall figure even more imposing.
“For what?” The question is not one of confusion or lack of knowledge, but rather did he understand what he should be sorry about. 
Toshi was of average height for his age, with maybe a few more inches to go, but the way Tatsuma simply towered over most people did nothing to ease the situation.  “I was pretty insensitive when we talked near the beginning of the camp,” he began.  “And didn’t do a good job of listening to what you were actually saying.  It’s been pointed out that I don’t always see the privileged position my family gives me and I trivialized something very important to you.”
He looked up.  “And for that, I’m sorry.”
Tatsuma listened, looking at him carefully before speaking. “Well I can’t find a realistic problem with your apology. So..thank you.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “I’d argue it’s something many Heroes should see as important, but now is a pointless time to argue it.”
Toshi nodded.  It was about as good a reaction as he could have hoped for.  Tatsuma didn’t seem like the type to lash out violently, the way Katsumi might (Though in truth, Katsumi was always more bark than bite), but he’d been deeply afraid of making things worse.  He was a Class Representative.  He was supposed to be a leader, someone others looked to and who helped make things right, not someone who caused trouble with other schools.  
“You’re not wrong,” he agreed.  “I’ve grown up around enough Heroes, not just my family…”   He winced slightly.  A reminder of all that probably wasn’t the best choice of words.  “But a lot of them question if they’re not good enough, if they’re not doing enough.  And their failures stay with them too.”
Dad didn’t talk about it much.  He wanted to keep a smiling face, especially for this family.  But as Toshi had gotten older, he’d been more willing to talk about the lives he couldn’t save, the times he was too slow or too late.  He’d wanted to impress upon Toshi that being a Hero could bring great joy, but that it would weigh you down too.
“I don’t know why the press or the public treated your mother differently.  But she didn’t deserve that.”
For a time, he had had her attention. Maybe he’d gotten this right. Tatsuma was also a Class Rep. and as such she represented her school. As much as she may have wanted to show up UA, she had to know holding grudges like that weren’t good for anybody.  And it was true that in the past, the rankings had led to a lot of damaging and toxic behavior.  You just had to look at Izzy’s grandfather for that.  But things were different now, right?  But when he mentioned her mother, he suddenly felt the situation change, the hairs on the back of his next standing up.
Human life had started long after the dinosaurs had died out, despite what a lot of science fiction would have people believe.  But if a man had been threatened by a t-rex, he was certain it would felt like what he was feeling now.
Toshi would later swear that he saw Tatsuma’s eyes go red. “Because of the damn rankings!” Smoke started to unfurl from her nostrils. “She fell from the all-mighty Top Ten! The heroes of all heroes! You think anyone says anything if someone drops a rank in the 20’s or 30’s? No, no one cares about their efforts. But if someone can’t cut being in the Top Ten-!” Her skin looked like a very thin layer of scales was forming. 
“That's all my mother ever heard! ‘You couldn’t cut it.’ ‘Leave it to the men!’ ‘You weren’t meant to be among the elite!” All because of how the rankings portray what Heroes are supposed to be!” 
She was now towering over Toshi now. “I won’t dismiss what your father has done for this country, or any of the others in the Ten, but if you can’t see how it has also harmed those who have done nothing but sacrificed-!” Her hands clenched. She was very, VERY close, then snarled and turned away. 
“Seung’s worked too hard to keep her emotions in control. I can’t disgrace that effort.” Tatsuma let out a breath, a steaming hot one. “You’ll never get it. You’re too ingrained. I should probably just accept that.” She was quiet for a moment, before finally speaking up again. “What else did you want?”
To his credit, Toshi had managed to stand his ground during Tatsuma’s tirade, only taking a slight step backwards once. As it was, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  “I’m sorry,” he began.  “This is important to you, I can tell.   And I’m sorry for the pain it’s caused you and your mom.  What happened to her wasn’t right and wasn’t fair.”
He straightened up a little.  Maybe this was too much meddling.  But wasn’t meddling the job of a Hero?  Tatsuma had so much anger in her, it was going to consume if she didn’t find a way to break it.
“And maybe I am too close to see some things.  But I’m also close enough to a lot of things to see some of the details.  When your mother started dropping in rankings, it was a different time.  The world was still hurting from the loss of All Might and wanted its Heroes to be more perfect than they were, than they could actually be.  I don’t know, can’t know, if that was the cause, but I’d be surprised if that didn’t have something to do with it. And none of that would make it right or fair if it did.  
“But while I can’t quote you chapter and verse like Shota could, I can tell you that plenty of people have risen and fallen out of the Top Ten in the last decade or more, and only the trashiest and least reputable ‘news’ sources and commentators are bad mouthing them.  Creati dropped down to Number Eleven a while back.  And you know what she did?  She congratulated Rodeo, who jumped up to Seven and knocked her ranking down.”
He frowned.  “What happened to Ryukyu wasn’t right.  I agree with you on that.  And you’ve every right to be angry about it.  But I don’t think it’s like that anymore.”
He shook his head.  Maybe there was still something he was missing.  But he had to try and bridge that gap.  “But maybe you’re right.  Maybe this is something we can’t agree on.  But can we work together?”
She looked back at him. “If Ground Zero and Deku could learn to work together, it would be embarrassing and shameful if we couldn’t.” There is the vaguest hint of a smile. Maybe he’d said some of the right things.  At least, he hadn’t made it any worse.
Toshi gave her a small smile of his own.  “Oh, the stories I could tell you about that…”
***
The Rookies’ relay course was set up in the woodlands around their compound, virtually invisible from the treetops, but complicated once you got to it.  There were bridges and swings, with complex structures built into the trees.  The tree line itself was thick with trees and other vegetation, making it difficult to see where any attack might be coming from.  Fortunately, their path was pretty straightforward.  
“You got Tomodachi okay?” Inuzaki asked.  He was ahead of Shota, in dog form, pausing every so often to sniff the air.
“Good enough,” Shota told him. The “civilian” they were rescuing was a training dummy, like the kind they used at U.A.  It was about the size of an adult man and loaded with sensors that would tally up injuries and damage.  They had immediately decided that he’d needed a name. Shota had him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.  He didn’t need his arms free to use his Quirk, after all.  
“He’s pretty heavy though!” Shota said.  “Maybe he should run the course too!”  He was in good shape—you couldn’t be in the Hero course and not be—but he wasn’t anywhere near as fit as Toshi, Kirishima-Bakugo, or Shoji.  Even Inuzaki was in better shape than him when he was in human form.  Still, his joke did get a laugh out of Inuzaki, so it was worth it.
Dad always said you had to take care of your body as much as your Quirk.  Maybe he needed to start working out more.  Toshi was always working out.  But he got up so early to do it!
 “Smell anything?” Shota asked.
Inuzaki stopped and shook his head.  “Maybe.  Lots of smells.  I can smell people.  Mostly the Rookies.  They’ve been through here a lot.  Might be trying to make it confusing.”
“Let me try,” Shota said.  He took in a breath then started to unleash one of his sonar-screams, but stopped when Inuzaki started whining.
He cut the scream immediately.  “What, what is it?” Shota asked.
Inuzaki winced.  “Your scream hurt my ears,” he said, quietly.  “It was like a knife through my skull!”
Crap!  His Quirk and Inuzaki’s weren’t compatible?  How were they going to do this?  He had to scream to use his Quirk!  When they got attacked, he’d have to use it!  But if it hurt his friend, then what could he do?  Maybe it was only certain frequencies?
“That’s only when you’re a dog, right?” Shota asked.  “Change back for a second.  I’ll get a quick look and then we can keep going.”
“Okay,” Inuzaki agreed.  He stopped though, his back leg scratching at his ear.  “Hang on, gotta scratch first.”
“Oh!  How cute!”
The girlish voice seemed to come from nowhere.  It could only be Ojiro!  But where was she?!
Inuzaki sniffed.  “Ah ha!  Got you!”  He jumped up and seemed to collide with something in mid-air.  Ojiro reappeared as they hit the ground.  
“Oh, dang it!” Ojiro cried out.  She tried to get up, but Inuzaki’s weight was keeping her down.  “I got distracted!
“Hold her still!” Shota said.  They’d been given ‘capture cuffs’ so that they could harmlessly take their classmates out of the fight, though there was a good chance they’d have to do at least a little damage.  He had some in his pocket, but he also had the dummy!  Crap!  What were they going to…  Inuzaki changed back to his human form in a puff of smoke.  He had capture cuffs too!  Right.  Why was he worried?
Ojiro was quick though, using that moment of transition to act.  She brought her legs up, flipping Inuzaki over her, then sprang up to her feet.  “So close!” she said.  “But not quick enough!”  Meanwhile, Inuzaki changed back to dog form in midair, landing easily.  He and Ojiro circled each other warily.
Before he could help, the ground started shaking.  Shota swallowed hard.  He remembered now, one of Class 1-B had a vibration-based Quirk, didn’t she?  Mio Yamaguchi, a dark haired girl.
The vibrations picked up intensely, knocking Shota off his feet.  He hit the ground, twisting to minimize the damage to Tomodachi, but he knew he took at least a small hit.  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Shota told the dummy.  Carefully getting back to his feet, he looked around for any sign of Yamaguchi or anyone else.  Behind him, he could hear the sounds of Ojiro and Inuzaki fighting.
He wanted to help.  He really did.  But if there was more trouble coming, somebody had to watch.
Doing the right thing sucked sometimes.   But he had to trust that Inuzaki was going to be able to handle it.   “Better hold your ears, Tomodachi,” he told the dummy.  “It might get loud!”  If he kept his powers really focused, hopefully he’d wouldn’t hurt Inuzaki either.
There.  Yamaguchi stepped into view, looking beyond Shota.  “Can’t you catch one dog, Ojiro?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
From behind him, Ojiro called out.  “It’s really hard!  He’s really fast!”
Yamaguchi rolled her eyes.  “Okay, let me just take care of the kid and I’ll help.”  She brought up both of her hands, unleashing vibrational waves that seemed to blur the air in front of her.
Dang it!  Just because he was short and a few months younger, it didn’t mean he was a baby!  Why did everybody treat him like he was a little kid!
“YOU’RE NOT GONNA STOP ME!” he shouted, clenching his fists.  He unleashed his Quirk, turning a shout into a broad sonic wave.  His wave met Yamaguchi’s vibrational blast in mid-air, where there was a small explosion of air as the two different waves hit each other, before his own caused hers to dispense. Somewhere behind him, he heard Inuzaki yelp.  He just prayed his new friend could hold on.
“What?” Yamaguchi said.  “How’d you do that?”
Shota grinned.  “I canceled out your vibrations with my own!”  Maybe not as good as Uncle Shota’s Erasure, but his sonic vibrations could stop hers well enough.
Again and again, Yamaguchi threw her vibrational blasts at him, but Shota kept canceling them out. Her vibrations were at least as strong as his sonics.  Keepings up that kind of pace, matching vibration with vibration, was making his skull rattle. Even without the blasts hitting him, he could practically feel the vibrations in his bones.  Even though he wasn’t used to fighting someone with powers even a little bit like his own, he was holding his ground, but if he didn’t do something, he was sure to lose!
“Okay, that’s it…” Yamaguchi said. A look of annoyance crossed her face. “Guess it’s time to bring down the house!”  Her eyes narrowed and she brought both hands together and pointed them down, ready to unleash another vibrational blast.  The air was practically humming as she charged up her power.  He had to do something… now!
Shota took in another breath and screamed, hitting the ground under Yamaguchi with a carefully modulated sonic pulse.  While he mostly used his Quirk for purely destructive sonic screams, he could do so much more than that depending on the frequencies he hit.  Everything from sonar to force fields to all kinds of other effects.  In this case, he could hyper-agitate molecules causing…
An explosion!  It wasn’t a big one, but the ground underneath Yamaguchi exploded, knocking her off her feet and several feet back.  As she landed, Shota rushed over, unclipping one of the capture cuffs from his belt.  Yamaguchi was still trying to get her bearings when he slapped one end on her wrist and then the other.
“All right!” he cheered.  “Got you!”  
Yamaguchi just stared at him, then rolled her eyes.  “Monoma’s never going to let me hear the end of this.”
Shota wondered why Monoma would give her a hard time.  She tried her best!  
“Oh, dang it!  This is so unfair!  How you can you be this cute and this tough?!  IF YOU WERE CLOSER, I’D GIVE YOU SUCH A SMACK!”
Shota’s attention was instantly drawn to where Inuzaki had managed to corner Ojiro.  She’d climbed up into a tree, and Inuzaki was back in dog form, circling the bottom of it.  
Inuzaki transformed back to his human shape.  “Can you get her down?  I’m not so good with climbing.”
Shota nodded.  “Let me try this one…”   He let lose another scream, shifting the pitch a bit.   This time, when his sonic attack hit the tree, it began to shake and vibrate violently, but it didn’t explode.
“Nnnnnnnoooo  fffffaaaaiiiirrrrr,” Ojiro wailed.  She was struggling to hang on and ultimately lost the fight.  She fell, landing flat on the ground.  “Ouch…”   She held her up arms.  “Just cuff me already.”
***
They’d probably gone another two kilometers, easy.  Shota wasn’t really good with eyeballing distances.  Every now and then, they’d trade off, with Inuzaki resuming his human form so he could carry Tomodachi and so Shota could scan the area with sonar.  But the forest was so thick with trees and everything else, it was hard to see anything that way.  Buildings were a lot easier.  
“How much further?” he asked.  He was pretty sure they’d been told how far they had to travel for the hand-off, but he may not have been paying the best attention.
“About another couple kilometers,” Inuzaki said.  “I think.  Everything looks bigger from down here.”
Not too much farther then.  But there were definitely more of his classmates or schoolmates out there, waiting for them.  Unless they were really dogpiling the other teams, there had to be at least one, maybe two more coming after them.  Even Shota could do that kind of math.
“Do you smell anything?” Shota asked.  It hadn’t worked so well last time, not with all the other smells in the forest, but maybe they’d get lucky.
Inuzaki made a weird face, one which looked even stranger on a dog.  “I smell something,” he said.  “Like ink, maybe?”
“Oh!” Shota said.  He knew who that was!  “Fukidashi!”
“The cartoon girl?” Inuzaki asked.  He sounded a little annoyed, which was surprising, given how well he got on with everyone.  “I tried talking to her a few times, but every time I did, she just kept going on about how cute I was. Just like the invisible girl. It got old really fast.”
Shota frowned, looking around.  Where could she be?  His eyes fell on a strange looking patch of ground.  “Do you see that?” he asked, pointing.
“Is that patch of ground a different color?” Inuzaki asked, curiously.  
Shota bent down and grabbed a stick from the ground.  Getting back up with Tomodachi on his shoulders was tricky, but he managed it.  He gave the stick a toss towards the patch of ground.
The stick hit something, making a small thunk sound.  Instantly, Anime Fukidashi sprang from the patch on the ground, partially covered in leaves and dirt.  “Aw,” Fukidashi said as she landed.  “How did you know?!”
“The ground was a different color,” Inuzaki said.  He bent down low, ready to pounce.  
“Dammit!” Fukidashi yelled.  Her head somehow got larger as she yelled, becoming larger than the rest of her body.  “Betrayed by the drawing on the animation cell!”
Inuzaki looked over at Shota.  “Is she all right?” he asked.  Shota just shrugged.  Even he and Toshi had no real idea how her Quirk worked or how it affected her.  
Before any of them could act, suddenly, something snaked around Tomodachi, yanking him off Shota’s shoulders!  There was Kaminari, coming out of the bushes behind Fukidashi, her Cords wrapped around the dummy and dragging it towards her.  He could even see a few sparks dancing across her Cords and areas of the dummy lighting up as it registered damage.
“Nice job being the distraction, Fukidashi,” Kaminari said.  Her expression turned slightly apologetic.  “Sorry Shinso, but you’re not winning this one.”
He couldn’t get in a good sonic blast with her holding Tomodachi like that.  He was in the way and she could still shock him either way.  “Aw, c’mon, Kaminari,” he said sadly.  “We gotta win this one!  Everybody’s counting on us!  I don’t want to disappoint everybody!  I just…  I just gotta…”
Her face fell as he talked.  There.  There was his moment.  “Aaaaah!” Shota let out a shout, a regular one, and charged, tackling Kaminari about the middle and knocking her to the ground. He hated tricking her like that, but if everybody was going treat him like a little kid, then maybe he should take advantage of that. He landed on top of her, with his head on her…  He jerked his head up quickly!
Kaminari’s Cords reflexively reeled in when he tackled her, but as she soon as she was able, her Cords poked into his back and unleashed a jolt of electricity.  It wasn’t a strong shock, just enough to make him release his grip, but it still hurt.  Shota let out a cry of pain and let go, as Kaminari shoved him off her.  As he hit the ground, he could see Fukidashi trying to hit Inuzaki with a comically oversized hammer.
“Dang it!” Fukidashi yelled when her latest hammer strike failed to hit Inuzaki.  “Why won’t the music change?  Isn’t he a comedy character?!”
Kaminari, meanwhile, was back on her feet, heading for Tomodachi again.  She was too close!  If he missed with a sonic blast, he’d hit the dummy.  But he’d been working hard on his Quirk all through the camp.  And Bioshock helped him figure out some other pitches he could use.  If he could go high, Bioshock had said, he could go low.
Infrasound.
He opened his mouth and pitched his sonic power low, buffeting Kaminari with waves of low-frequency sound.  She stopped in her tracks, suddenly clutching her stomach.  She wobbled on her feet, before falling to her knees, throwing up.   Shota was already on his feet, running past her.  “Sorry!” he called out.  “It won’t last long, I promise!  Sorry!  Sorry!  Sorry!”
As quick as he could, he hoisted Tomodachi over his shoulders again.
Inuzaki had Fukidashi cornered now, growling.   She let the hammer fall from her hands and it vanished as soon as it let her fingers.  “Sure, now the dramatic music plays.”
Inzuki reared up and hit Fukidashi hard with both front paws, knocking her to the ground.  She hit her head on the ground and laid there, stunned, with little cartoon birds floating around her head.
Shota definitely didn’t understand how her Quirk worked.
“C’mon,” he said, moving as fast as he could.  “They won’t be down for long!”
He and Inuzaki ran.  Soon enough, he could see Kocho and Shida waiting up ahead, standing next to a small sign that clearly marked the second leg of the relay.
They’d done it!
***
Shinso and Inuzaki had definitely looked worse for wear by the time they’d arrived and handed off the training dummy (Which they’d named, for some reason.) to Koharu and Shida.  The two had spun a tale of being ambushed twice, but had managed to successfully fight their way through.  It gave her a good idea of what to expect.  There would probably be at least four attackers then, though there might be more.  She’d done the math. There weren’t quite enough students for a totally even split.
At least for now, Shida was carrying the dummy.  With her spider-legs carrying her in a way that reminded Koharu a lot of how Shoji traveled with his own Quirk, she was able to hold the dummy in her arms and remain mobile.  Koharu herself was flapping her wings, floating just a bit above ground level.  That way, if they needed to engage, she wouldn’t waste any time on a takeoff.  The forest canopy, for now, meant moments to fly really high were going to be few and far between, but there was enough space between the trees that someone could still fly under it. 
And flying above the canopy had been strictly prohibited.  Even if it wasn’t against the rules, there were several other students with flight Quirks and it was likely at least one of them would be playing the Villain for their leg of the relay.  And she’d be leaving Shida behind if she did that, which seemed like it would defeat the purpose of the exercise. 
None of which did anything to quell her body’s primary panic at the spider-like aspects of the Shiketsu girl.  Given there were spiders that ate moths, it was a natural reaction for animal-type Quirks like theirs. She was getting better at it than when the camp had started, though.  It helped that the other girl was incredibly nice (and, she admitted with a blush, rather cute), but her instinctive reaction was still just below the surface.
On the plus side, the two of them were going to be incredibly hard to sneak up on.  Between Shida’s multiple-eyes and her own antenna, they had a range of extra-sensory perception.  
“See anything?” Koharu asked quietly.  Her antennae weren’t giving her any good information, unless you counted knowing where several squirrels and more than a few birds were.
“Not yet.” Shida said. If she’d noticed that Koharu tended to keep her distance from her, she didn’t let on but she seemed happy enough to be working with her. Her six eyes glanced about in multiple directions. “I doubt that will be the case much longer.” It didn’t help that she wasn’t sure where exactly to look. Knowing who the “Villains” were would have helped, but Heroes seldom had a heads-up. 
“Me neither,” she replied.  But Shida was right.  Sooner than later was to be expected.
It didn’t take long for that sooner to become now.  There was a great cracking sound and one of the trees fell, blocking the way forward for a moment.  Someone strong then, or maybe Kaniyashiki from 1-B with her scissor Quirk?  But even then, between her ability to fly and Shida’s legs, it would only slow them down for a minute.  So what was their enemy’s plan?
A sound like jet engines told her what it was: a distraction!
Faster than a bullet, one of the Iida twins--Sora, she realized--blasted through the air right towards them.  She was fast enough that Koharu couldn’t react in time to stop her, only to get out of the way.  Iida stuck an arm out as she flew past, grabbing the arm of the dummy Shida was carrying as she tried to rocket away.
Like Koharu, Shida hadn’t seen Sora coming. She’d told Koharu before they’d set out that, while spiders had six eyes, their sense of sight actually wasn’t all that strong. She could see more than most people, but only by volume, not by magnification. There was no way either of them should have been able to see her coming in time. But somehow, Akira’s second-from-the back left spider-leg to shot out in a reflexive strike. 
It was a solid strike, enough to send the Iida girl flying off course, slamming head first into a tree trunk.  She still had the dummy though, which made things complicated.  Already, she was scrambling back to her feet, although quite unsteadily.  Koharu spat a blob of String Shot at her, pinning her to the tree with a mass of sticky strands stronger than steel.
“How did you do that?” Koharu asked, unable to keep the amazement out of her voice.
Shida bowed her head slightly and smiled.  “My leg hairs.  They’re very sensitive to vibrations.  It’s a bit of an instinctive reaction to danger like that.”
“This is excellent tensile strength,” Iida said, as she struggled to break free.  She sounded impressed. Koharu could hear the other girl’s Jetpack engines firing, but for the moment, her String Shot held.  “I would love an opportunity to examine this at a later date! The uses are practically unlimited!”
“Sister!” a voice called out.  It had to be Tensei Iida.  “As much as I am in agreement with you, now is hardly the time for scientific curiosity!”
“It is always the time for curiosity, little brother!”
“I have asked you to stop calling me that!”
“Maybe you two could have this discussion another time?” Another voice asked.   It was Shoji. He sounded very, very tired. Koharu didn’t blame him. The Iidas were very nice, but they could also be exhausting.
Shoji dropped down from between two trees, using his extra arms like spider-legs, free-falling the last few feet to land with a slight thud.  Tensei Iida, meanwhile, dropped down with a series of shot Jetpack bursts to slow his fall.  Both of them were between Koharu and Shida and the dummy.
She shot Shida a quick glance.  “How long can you hold your breath?” she whispered.  Iida and Shoji were playing defense for the moment, watching them.  
“That’s a complicated answer with my mixed body. But I can “hold it” long enough. What are you planning?” Koharu remembered, vaguely, that spiders didn’t breathe in the same way as some animals, but she didn’t know how that applied to the spider-girl.
“I can drop a sleeping powder from my wing scales,” Koharu said quickly and quietly.  Shoji was eying them warily, all six of his arms up in a fighting stance, while Tensei Iida attempted to free his sister and the dummy without success.  “If I can cover a wide enough area, I can knock them out.  Iida’s crazy fast and Shoji’s crazy strong.  Probably the best chance we’ve got.”
“Hmm, I could use my legs to lift my body above the powder. Plus I should be able to use my leg hairs to feel the vibrations of where they might move even if I can’t see them,” Shida suggested. 
Koharu nodded.  These were all Hero students with months of training that she simply didn’t have.  And many of them had even more than that, coming from Hero families.  Neither side here had a full understanding of what the other could do, so evening out to neutral was the closest they had to an advantage. “Let’s do it.”
She flapped hard, gaining height and propelling herself forward towards the boys, already releasing her Sleep Powder from her wings.   Down below, Tensei Iida looked up and let out a cry of alarm, while Shoji moved towards Shida, his top pair of extra arms stretching out to grab at her.
Shida saw Shoji heading for her, scanning above herself with her uppermost eyes. Staying on the ground was a bad idea as she had no idea how strong Shoji really was. She bent her legs, took a moment to look Shoji in the eyes, and gave the six-armed boy a wink that Koharu would have called flirtatious, before her legs suddenly unbent and sent her flying up into the air. Shooting well up past the smaller trees, Shida extended several of her legs to pierce and grab onto the nearest larger specimen.  Others of her legs lashed out at Shoji.
Shoji dodged out of the way of the initial strike, pushing himself to the side with his lower set of arms.  “Good reflexes,” he said, his voice smooth, like silk. He craned his neck to follow Shida, top arms extending out at her, but his maximum extension wasn’t enough to get him close.
Meanwhile, having recovered from his initial shock, Tensei Iida was rocketing into the air.  He was a major threat, though without the armor and support equipment Koharu had seen him use during the final exam, possibly slightly less of one.   And she had the advantage in maneuverability.
She flapped hard as she flew, releasing her Sleep Powder from her wings until the air was filled with the orange powder.   Iida got the worst of it, flying directly into the cloud of it.  He coughed and sputtered and was out almost immediately.  Which meant that his Jetpack cut out and he started falling like a stone.  Koharu cursed and went into into a dive, catching him in midair by grabbing his wrists. She let loose a cry of pain as her jerked to a stop. It felt like her arms were being torn from their sockets!
“Dammit,” she hissed.  Iida was heavy, muscular and compact.  She could just about manage to carry her own bodyweight when flying, but he was definitely heavier than she was.  She dropped down low and released him, letting him hit the ground.  He’d gotten more than enough powder that he didn’t wake up.
Shoji, meanwhile, was still standing. She’d had to stop spreading her powder to keep Tensei from dropping and he hadn’t gotten nearly as big a dose.  His arms lashed out again, grabbing her wrists!
It had been a gamble that she’d be able to drop Shoji, especially as big as he was and as little powder as she’d been able to release.  She was glad Shida had her back. As soon as she’d seen Koharu drop down to save Iida, the spider-girl had already been making her way down the tree when Shoji extended his arms to grab Koharu.
She watched as Shida did her best to land from an angle that she hoped was in Shoji’s blind spot. Her legs made surprisingly little noise when they were in motion, and she sped toward the big, six-armed boy. When close enough she extended her two front legs and brought them in a scything motion toward the back of Shoji’s knees. 
Shoji was a big guy, which made him a pretty big target.  The blow from Shida knocked him down, bringing him to his knees and making him release Koharu.  Looking over his shoulder, he tried to swat at Shida with his Extendo-Arms, but the move was awkward and uncoordinated.  Koharu used the moment to escape, taking to the air again. She swung out with her legs, striking Shoji upside the head.  The blow wasn’t enough to put him down, but it did spin his head around.  He looked back and forth rapidly, now caught between her and Shida.
Shida dodged Shoji’s clumsy blows easily, her eyes and leg hairs giving her incredibly reaction time to his attack. She used her four back legs as a brace as she used them to hold herself in an almost standing position. She launched her remaining arms at Shoji, each attempting to strike at the arm joints of his extended arms. 
When it came to extra-appendages, Shoji was definitely unarmed by comparison to Shida.  Even as he’d been able to turn to face her, her spider-legs struck home, nailing him in each of his Extendo-Arms.  The silver-haired boy let out a cry of pain as his arms retracted, snapping back with a strange, stretching sound that was more than a little nauseating.  
He’d done a remarkable job of staying upright, but between the pain from Shida’s attack, the blow to the head, and the whiff of sleep powder he’d gotten earlier finally making its way through his system, Shoji went down, slowly sliding to his knees and then to the ground.
They’d done it!  Three hero students, and they’d managed to beat all of them!  She’d even managed to take out two!  Of course, Shida was also a Hero student, so that evened the playing field a little, but still!
“Let’s get the dummy,” Koharu said.  It should still be where they left it, next to Sora Iida.  She quickly glanced in that direction.  The other girl was asleep.  She must have gotten enough Sleep Powder too. Koharu stopped, her antennae moving rapidly.  There was something stirring up a lot of air. 
Anything Shida might have said was cut off as something swooped down and slammed into her.  Rough, clawed feet grabbed her shoulders and she felt herself being carried into the air.  It had to be Hizashi Koumori, the bat-like member of Class 1-B.
“Sorry, Kocho,” he said.  “Totally most heinous to do the sneak attack, I know, but we gotta win this one!”
Just before Koumori had grabbed her, Koharu had seen Shida briefly give herself a smile of triumph. That had abruptly ended when Koumori struck. Koharu could see Shida move on instinct to try and help, but she stopped, as though remembering what Koharu had told her. They needed to get the dummy. Shida cursed quietly before heading over to Sora to grab it. With any luck she’d be able to secure it and get back quick enough to help.
But Koharu couldn’t count on that.  She needed to do whatever she could to try and free herself.
It was the element of surprise that had let Koumori grab her.  He was bigger and stronger than her, to be sure, but all he had was his feet around her shoulders. Her wings were still free. And he wasn’t rocket-powered like the Iidas.  He was as dependent on muscle power and flapping for flight as she was, which meant his flight was a lot easier to disrupt.  She flared her own wings out, spreading them wide.  It attacked like an immediate drag chute, jerking Koumori back.
“Whoa!” he cried out.  Reflexively, he released his grip on her as he sailed back.  That was all she needed.  For just a moment Koharu let gravity grab hold, then flapped her own wings, diving back toward the ground.
Just as suddenly, however, she was hit by what felt like a solid wall of force that set her bones rattling and seemed to echo through her skull.  Flailing, she started falling again.  It was hard to think clearly, everything was spinning…
Clawed feet grabbed her again, this time grabbing her legs.  “Sorry about the sonar, dudette,” Koumori said.  He did sound genuinely apologetic.  She knew he was pretty mellow guy most of the time, though how mellow tended to change with how awake he was.  “I’ll have you down in a second.”
No!  She had to prove herself!  She couldn’t lose now!  “No,” she said, “I’m sorry… for this!” With his grip on her legs, she flapped her wings just once, giving herself just enough ot a push to swing upward, slamming both of her fists into his snout!  Koumori let out a cry of pain and released her again.  This time, she flapped and kept herself into the air, but hit him with a blast of String-Shot, pinning his arms--and more importantly, his wings--to his sides.  A pang of regret shot through her as he dropped like a stone.  Koumori was even bigger and heavier then Iida. There was no way she could keep him from falling…
Koumori, at least, was awake. He twisted in the air, trying to break free from her String-Shot, but hit the ground hard, letting out a soft moan, his eyes fluttering.  That looked like it had hurt.  Maybe she’d make it up to him back at U.A. with a fruit smoothie from her stash of exotic fruits.
Koharu landed next to him, bending down to make sure he was okay.  Kuomori was still breathing and it didn’t look like he had any major injuries.  Didn’t look like that had felt good, but it looked like he’d be fine.
It wasn’t the first time she’d had to hurt someone.  She’d sparred with friends and fought in the Sports Festival and trained against others here at the camp.
It didn’t mean it felt good.   Maybe Park had been onto something about children fighting like this…
Shida skittered to a stop next to her, the dummy safely in her hands. “That was amazing, Koharu! I came as quickly as I could, but it turns out you didn’t need it.” Skida smiled, but frowned slightly; she must have noticed the disturbed look on Koharu’s face. She frowned, all her eyes narrowing in concern. “Are you okay?” She didn’t specify if what troubled her was physical or mental, but there was something in her voice that suggested this wasn’t the first time she’d seen someone react like this. 
Koharu shook her head.   She had plenty of options that didn’t involve hurting people when it came to takedowns.  Maybe she could learn to focus on that.  But she’d have to fight anyway if she followed her dream and became a Hero.  But what did that mean for now?
Maybe those were questions for another day.
“Just thinking about something your friend said,” she told Shida.  “But c’mon.  We can talk about that later.  Let’s get this thing to the next marker.”
These were definitely questions that needed answers.  But for now, she’d faced one of the first major challenges of her Hero training and she’d come out on top.
For now, that was good enough.
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kkysolo · 4 years
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Rhythm and Melody / The Cultist
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Summary: Teaching Cultist!Kylo how to dance (and how to sing) for the first time. Oh, God, I hope you guys like this. It’s driven me half demented thinking I haven’t gotten this quite right. 
Inspired by and for the lovely @meg-solo​ 
Pairing: Kylo Ren|Ben Solo/Reader (female) Setting: Modern AU, cult setting. Warnings: None for this piece, but please see AO3 for the full list of tags and warnings.  Word count: 2K A/N: Here we are, once again, with a music inspired piece (and another Turnover song, at that). The song in this fic is Bonnie (Rhythm and Melody) by Turnover. which is just really pretty and ambient and I just think it fits. (Also, now that I think about it, the whole song just sounds like their experience falling in love? I’m soft). As well as that, I always dance to this song, and I hum it all the time, too. The humming idea for this fic comes from the lovely sparrowtail over on AO3. As always, if any of you have any ideas for more of these little tidbits that we can add to this story (where there might not be room for them in the main fic) feel free to let me know.
Available under the cut, and here on AO3
 “And even though you aren't always sweet,”
You’re singing again. 
Kylo lifts his head from where it rests in his hand, turning slowly in his chair to look in the direction of the bathroom. Your voice, along with clouds of steam, billows from underneath the door. 
“You are all that's sweet at all to me,”
Sweet, he thinks. He prods you, poking at your bond until you begrudgingly respond to him. He senses your irritation - you’re annoyed that he’s interrupted you, though the feeling fades as quickly as it comes. 
In this context it means nice, delightful. He hears the water trickle to a stop.  It can also reference how something tastes. Like, if it’s sugary. 
Kylo repeats the word ‘sugar’ questionably under his breath, though he knows you can’t hear him. He’s unsure if he’s ever tasted sugar. 
“I’ll show you one day,” you call out to him. “But I’ll warn you, it’s addictive.” 
“Does that mean it’s good?” 
“Very,” the door cracks open and he can see you now, covered only by your towel. He hates it when you do this, though he’s never been able to discern why. He thinks, perhaps, it’s because the sight makes him feel things deep in the core of his body that he quite doesn’t understand - things he wishes he  could . “Can you pass me my nightdress?” 
He swiftly gets to his feet, picking it up carefully from where it’s draped across the bed. The black silk glides through his fingertips, and he thinks about how soft it must feel against your skin. He steps toward you, placing the garment tentatively in your hands. 
“Thank you,” you move to close the door, but he quickly pulls it back open. The force of it, the way his palm almost slams against the wood, startles you. 
“Kylo,” you warn. “I’ll be out in a minute.”  “Can’t you leave it open?”
You cock an eyebrow at him. 
“Why do you want it open?” “So that I can hear you properly.”  “Hear me do what?”  “Sing,” he murmurs, retreating back to his seat. “And I don’t like it being closed, anyway.”  “Well it has to be closed sometimes, Kylo,” you say incredulously. “I need  some privacy.” 
Kylo ignores your statement, picking his pen up as he sits back at his desk. He doesn’t care for privacy. He cares only for being close to you. 
“Can you keep singing?”  “If I have to keep it open, then you can’t turn around.” 
Kylo chooses not to respond. He doesn’t quite understand the meaning of privacy, or why it’s a necessity. He’s never really had it - any moment of quiet he’s  ever  had has been quickly and brutally interrupted. Every intimate function of his body has been watched, every wash, every toilet break has been assisted and observed. At least, it was. Now that privacy is something he’s forced to face, he’s unsure he understands its purpose. Even showering by himself is still a task - he’s not quite sure how to do much of anything on his own. And though you know this, and though you know he won’t turn around now that you’ve asked him not to, you still duck behind the door, completely out of sight. 
You slip your nightdress on in seconds, tossing your towel to the corner of the bathroom floor. You don’t have the luxury of a laundry basket. But whenever you leave the room for dinner or for training, the dirty towels have disappeared, fresh ones in their place. You often wonder who takes them, who tends to your quarters while you’re out. You wonder if they have more freedom than you do. Than Kylo does. 
You step back into the room, barefoot and clean, your skin still slightly damp. You hum softly as you make your way to the bed. The notes hang in the air, magical and empyreal and oh, so pretty. Kylo sits up straight in his seat. 
“Now what are you doing?” Kylo turns to you, watching as you sit.  “What do you mean?” “You’re singing but...not.” 
You laugh softly. His naivety - his innocence, really - though tragic, is still beautiful to you. His willingness to learn, even moreso. 
“It’s called humming. It’s like, singing with your mouth closed.” 
He turns back to his paper, unconvinced. 
“That seems strange.” “Does it sound strange?” “No, it sounds nice,” he mumbles, dipping into his ink. “But why wouldn’t you just sing when it sounds so pretty?”  “I don’t always want to sing.” “Why not?” His brows furrow.  “Would you always want to sing?”  “I wouldn’t know, I don’t know how.” 
You pause for a moment, observing the curve of his back, the curls of hair that crest around his crown. You contemplate if anyone has ever told him how stunning, how wonderfully and painfully handsome he truly is. 
“Would you like me to teach you?”
He turns back to you, silently observing you with devoted attention. There’s a lot of things Kylo wishes he could do. He wonders, as he looks at you, if he’ll ever be able to teach you as much as you’ve taught him.
He nods softly, turning fully in his seat. 
“It’s easy,” you walk to him with a spring in your step, a bounce almost. His eyes remain fixated on you as you come to stand before him. “It’s like talking, but you just drag it out. Try going like ‘ahhhh’.” 
Your speech is fast, emotive, and Kylo realises as he feels it sizzle across your bond - you’re excited. You’re absolutely animated, like he’s never quite seen before. He almost smiles - almost. But once again, he settles into a half smile, instead. 
“Ahhh,” he mimics. “Like that?”
“Yes, like that!” You grin. “Now, try changing the pitch,” you make the same sound again, only lower, deeper. Kylo mimics you to perfection, the baritone nature of his voice aiding his efforts. You marvel at how quickly he learns. He’s capable of anything, you believe that wholly. He could have the world, if he so wished. 
“Okay, now try higher,” you vocalise again, and Kylo’s brow furrows, clearing his throat.  “I’m not sure I can do that, not like you can,” he says, rubbing at his throat.  “You don’t have to go as high as I do,” you smile, and your reassurance reignites his faltering confidence. “Just go as high as you’re comfortable with.” 
He coughs, and tries his best. The pitch is still low, and he chastises himself internally. 
“I-I’m sorry, I can’t-” He shakes his head in frustration, and you can feel the anger rise in his chest. “Hey, hey,” you lean closer to him, and your proximity calms him - the tenderness, the warmth it stirs in him triggers a wave of peace that dutifully extinguishes his self doubt. “That’s okay, you’re doing just fine. Do you think you can sing the words, now?”
He nods slowly.
“If you teach me.” 
“I got a little bit tired of spending all morning, really wishing that I was still sleeping,” you sing along to the melody, swaying slightly as you do.  “I got a little bit tired of spending all morning, really wishing that I was still sleeping,” He repeats the words exactly as you sang them, perfectly following your tune and pitch.  “You’re good at this!”  “You're- ” he stops. “I wasn’t supposed to repeat that.” 
The laugh you let out sets his pulse racing. He’ll search for that sound until his dying day, he’s sure of it. 
“It’s okay, let’s keep going,” you sway again, and he watches curiously as you move. “But you and me being each other feels like it’s all I’ve ever needed.” 
He copies your tune, moving in his chair as he follows your movements. You’re twirling around the room, spinning and swaying as you continue singing.
“Now all I can hear is rhythm and melody in my ears, it sounds like it feels all the time,”
He repeats your words, though his tone falters as he becomes distracted by how you whirl around. He tapers off, tilting his head to the side in question. 
“What is this?”  “What’s what?” You don’t look at him, too lost in the feeling of how the air feels as it glides between your fingertips.  “What are you doing?” “Dancing.”  “What’s the purpose of this?” he stands, observing you cautiously. “Is it ceremonial?”  “No,” you laugh, coming to a halt before him. You stumble, dizzy from your performance. He steady’s you, gripping your elbow as you tumble forward. “Well, it can be, but that’s not what I’m doing. It’s just fun.” “It doesn’t look fun, you could have fallen.”  “But I didn’t,” you smile. “Would you like to dance with me?” 
Kylo’s brow furrows, and he almost hates that you ask. He’s so completely and utterly devoted to you, to your voice, to your eyes, to your soul that’s so perfectly blended with his. He’d do anything you ask of him without a second thought. 
He nods slowly, cautiously approaching you. You hold out your hands to him, a voiceless question reverberating through the air between you.
Can I touch you?
Kylo reaches for your outstretched hands, intertwining your fingers with his in a silent answer. His body steps close to yours, and he looks at you quizzically. 
“Now what?”  “Now, we move,” you step back, taking Kylo with you. He follows stiffly as you move across the room, your hands still intertwined with his. He looks down at your feet, how quickly and daintily they move across the floor. His movements feel wrong.  “Loosen your shoulders a little,” you say, “Don’t be afraid to let yourself be more fluid.” 
He rolls his shoulders before relaxing, and even his hands become pliant in your grip. You start singing again, stirring your momentum and giving you both a tune to move to. 
“I’m balancing perfectly in between awake and a dream.”
Kylo hums quietly along with you, not quite realising that he’s doing it. He’s too absorbed, too focused on how your body moves, on how it brushes lightly against his as you guide him across the room. You let go of one of his hands, lifting the other up and twirling yourself beneath it. Kylo half-smiles again, not understanding exactly what it is that you’re doing, but revelling in the sight nonetheless. 
“You’re getting good at this,” you muse. “I think you’re a natural.” 
He moves his hand to your waist. 
“Is this okay?”
“Of course,” you smile.
He moves you closer to him, taking the lead and guiding you across the wooden floorboards. They creak unhappily beneath your feet, adding to the symphony you’ve created as you both harmonize your melodies. 
“I can't explain this new sensation,” you twirl around again, and this time, Kylo guides you. “It kind of feels like falling but what's underneath me's soft as velvet.” 
Kylo sighs happily, contentment washing over him. He watches you smile as you sing, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever lay eyes on anything so sublime. 
“Do you like this?” You ask him as you follow his lead, and he nods emphatically. 
“Can we keep going?” His tone is hopeful, and you desperately hope that he knows that you’d never deny him this, or much of anything else. Least of all something so pure, so simple. 
“Of course,” you allow him to twirl you again. He likes this, watching you spin. “But on one condition," You wink at him as you speak, and though he doesn't understand the definition of such a gesture, his heart races in his chest. "What would that be?" "You let me change with the door closed," he makes a disgruntled face at your demand, and you smile at him knowingly. "I know you want to feel close to me, but I really do need a little privacy."
Kylo relaxes his features, nodding in concession. He tries in vain to repeat your gesture, attempting a wink but blinking harshly instead. You laugh softly and his mouth turns upward only slightly. 
"I can do that," he says quietly.  "Then we can do this whenever you want." 
And when he falls asleep tonight, his limbs inches from yours, he’ll think of this. Of how your skin glows in the candlelight, of how your skin feels against his, of how you glide so effortlessly, barefoot and beautiful. And he hopes you’ll think of him, too.
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TW: Implied self harm, implied suicide, c!thomas is a sad mess, cussing
Viewer discretion is advised
Here is the song by city and colour
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The way it used to be/ ThVi (its sad)
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This is the story of a man
Thomas sat on his couch, scrolling through Twitter, replying to mentions here and there, just sitting. He felt Virgil lay down on his lap, going seemingly limp against him. Thomas put down his phone to turn his attention to his boyfriend. "You good there, Virge?" He nodded, smiling. "Having anxiety is just exhausting." Thomas sighed. "Why didn't you come get me?" Virgil shook his head. "Didn't wanna bother you, and besides, it wasn't even that bad. Now I am here with you." He turned on his side wrapping his arms around Thomas's waist. Thomas sighed in content. He knew this would be the rest of his life and he was completely happy with it.
Who took for granted everything he had
"I- I'm sorry okay? Please calm down!" Virgil said harshly not wanting to scream anymore than Thomas already had. "NO! WHAT THE HELL?!!! YOU KNEW THAT WAS IMPORTANT TO ME!!! THAT COULD'VE BEEN MY BREAK!!" Virgil shrunk back a bit. "I- I know, but-but I can't help it! Its literally my job!" Thomas huffed. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ANXIETY!!!!" Virgil flinched. He called him anxiety instead of his name.... Right as Thomas began to opened his mouth again, Virgil teleported to his room, locking the door.
And how he let it all just slip away
From then on, Virgil didn't act the same, flinching away from touches, hardly speaking and never wanted to be touched really. And a few months after a few more fights and awkward encounters he finally came out of his room he only grabbed a book, one Thomas had never seen before, and left. Returning hours later to say quietly that it would never happen again. And he left. Thomas would've gone after him but he had to go somewhere, and he would always be here when he gets back. Waiting for him since there isn't no where else to go.
Never to return again
He arrived back home sad? He hadn't had any anxiety which was unusual since he was surrounded by a bunch of people, bombarding him with a bunch of questions. He decided now was the time to go check on Virgil, say he is sorry and figure out why everything seemed gloomy. He went into the mind palace, and even the living room which was a neutral space was sad, not as much as everything else but still sad. He walked up the stairs, immediately noticing the bright blue door that had dogs and cats with a couple of frogs, was deepened and cracked, similar things done to the other doors. He walked down closer to Virgil's room, when he heard sobbing. Panic seeping in he ran to Virgils room only to stop dead in his tracks. Patton was crying, and was being cradled by Logan. Janus was in tears on Virgils bed, cradling a piece of fabric. He looked in the bathroom and his blood ran cold. Roman had tears steaming down while harshly talking with Remus, who was in the same state. He couldn't make out what they were saying since they were not audible from where he was. And a single limp arm dangled from the bathtub, red streaks streaming down said arm. Rushing in Roman immediately tried to stop him from seeing, but it was too late. He already saw Virgils lifeless body in a bathtub of red from his bleeding wrists. Tears streaming down his face. He faught against Roman to get to his boyfriends lifeless body. Why did this happen?
Now twenty years have come and gone
"Yeah, well fuck you! You shouldn't still be mourning him! And even if you weren't you still can't pretend I am him!" Anxietys distorted voice rang throughout the room. Thomas flinched. It's been twenty fucking years and they still didnt know anxietys name. And he still looked like Virgil which didnt help shit. He looked up to notice that Anxiety had disappeared. He sighed sitting back down on the couch, head in his hands. god what happened?
And still he wonders what he did so wrong
The next week he stayed in his room, refusing to do anything. Yeah it was twenty years ago but seeing anxiety made it yesterday. He soon created a sick little world in his head, where Virgil never died. And they just broke up. But Thomas knew there was hope of getting Virgil to get back together.
And how that he can win back *his* heart
Anxiety was now scared to be anxiety. Patton always trying to be happy, but failing from time to time, but still always vowing to protect him from such awkward encounters with their host. Anxiety would walk down to get a snack and Thomas would have a date set up for the both of them. Always calling him 'Virgil' and ignoring him saying that he wasnt this 'Virgil' he kept speaking of. And even though he failed, Thomas would always try again. He just had to win Virgils heart back. Ignoring Logan who was trying to get him to stop this behavior.
And finally step outside of the dark
Thomas sniffed the Roses he had bought which was purple, contrary to Anxietys black clothing. Satisfied with the purchase he left, waving goodbye to the owner of the shop, who had remembered his name and a few things about him, since he was in there every day.
He buys fresh roses every day
He offered the flowers to Anxiety once again, who awkwardly pushed them away and teleported out of the situation. He felt horrible, only being known for the past him, and not- ... well, him! Who even said he liked roses.
His favorite flower- so he used to say
It was the middle of the night, and Thomas was sobbing into the covers. The only time he wasn't stuck in his fake world since he was on medication which often made him forget his fake world for the night. He was sobbing, going through various memories of Virgil wearing roses in his hair. He reached over to take another swig of liquor, the all too familiar taste calming him a bit. And anxiety had to watch, since he never slept.
And now the memories are all that he has left
His drinking got more prominent, and even Remus was worried, usually his sticking thoughts and jokes would be there no matter what, but he was drained and focused on his host, not knowing what to do, but watch as this got sickening, even for him. Anxiety was on the same page as Remus, just at a lower volume. But he was the one who had to watch it 24/7 and he couldnt bare to look at his host like this.
I'm afraid he'll drink himself to death
While Thomas kinda creeped him out, Anxiety still felt bad for him, and it was still his job to protect his host. He decided to tell Logan about the rising intake of alcohol each night, slowly turning into spiked coffee, and other things. He really needed to stop...
This is the story of a man
Patton set Anxiety down, preparing himself. "Hey kiddo... I know you know that Virgil, our previous anxiety and friend, has passed... away. But I don't think, we ever told you how.... And for you to fully understand why Thomas is the way he is now, you need to hear the story, and I'm forced to tell it as Roman and Logan have been losing their minds, you know because of Thomas pretending that Virgil is still alive..." tears gathered in his eyes as he continued, telling the story as best he could.
Who took for granted everything he had
Anxiety felt bad for his past self and everyone else... he completely understood what Virgil was going through. But hearing it from his father figure made it twice as hard to pretend to be unphased by the information. This is one sad and frustrating story...
And how he let it all slip away
Anxiety didn't know how to feel for his host, anger? Or pity? He really tried to understand what had happened, but the relationship between Virgil and his host was really confusing, how could it not be? Especially towards the end...
Never to return again
Tears were now forming in Anxietys eyes as it became harder to understand Patton who was sobbing. He had lost his 'son' after all... And Anxiety felt like he lost a brother.
It's clear he moved on long ago
Thomas spiraled even further as he realized that his efforts to get Virgil back with him were futile. And he hated it. He hated it so much. He took another sip of his spiked coffee. Hoping to calm his nerves however he could. But always no matter what, when his meds arent making him somewhat sober minded, he always goes back to believing that he could somehow still win Virgils heart...
But still he clings on to the distant hope
He never slept now, even before he got atleast two hours of sleep. But that didnt happen anymore.. Thomas just stared at the ceiling as flashes of them together played through his mind. They looked so happy... Virgil looked happy...
That he'll come back and make a happy home
Everyone was spiraling as Thomas did, but it took more time for some of them. And Anxiety couldn't help because that would hurt his host even more. Anxiety decided to stop watching his host at night. Staring at the ceiling. He felt utterly useless, and he hated it. He sighed sitting up, the TV turned off, so it was playing footage of what Thomas was doing, and unsurprisingly he was still drinking and crying softly...
And now its him and the bottle all alone
As he spiraled he seemed to remember that his world was fake. And this made him unpredictable, and the others were spiraling with him, anxiety was spiraling the slowest. Which forced him to be the one always watching him. Sometimes he would look over at the TV to check on him and see him under a cherry blossom tree that had a swing hang on it. It was there he seemed the most sane. And numb, which kinda made it terrifying.
Sometimes you'll see him in the yard
You could tell by just looking at him sitting in the swing he was broken. Tears falling slowly, smiling to himself while he mumbles things to himself, something about how beautiful the imagination was. Clutching what seemed to be a purple hoodie.
A wounded man with a desperate heart
It seemed to be all he ever was, anxiety sighed sadly watching as Thomas pulled weeds from purple roses in the imagination. It seemed to be more of a calming thing, but it was still sad to watch.
He kept his Roses (hedges) trimmed nice and neat
Janus was watching Thomas with anxiety one day. Sadly noting that Thomas had replaced the area around the cherry blossom tree to replicate the way it looked when they first got together.
To keep them the way that they used to be
Thomas sat there in the swing admiring his work.
This is the story of a man
He sighed swinging back and forth a bit.
Who took for granted everything he had
After that day he seemed to be getting better, going to see a doctor about his spiraling.
And he let it all just slip away
Thomas was in fact getting better. He had stopped drink as much as he did, but it was a work in progress, and he even got a bit more comfortable around anxiety.
Never to return again
Thomas hung up the purple hoodie on his bathroom door. Just... admiring it sadly.
A single dress hangs on it's own
He would often would often smell the hoodie, it still smelled like him...
A scent of perfume all he has to hold
He remembers fading to his final sleep that night, clinging to the hoodie...
A wasted life waiting on a dream
As he closed his eyes one final time he saw him and Virgil sitting on the swing. Having fun and talking, just enjoying the others presence.
Hoping for things the way they used to be
He was happy, finally. Gone from the world he knew as pain. And he smiled.
This is the story of a man, who took for granted everything he had. And how he let it all just slip away, never to return again...
-------------------------------------------------
Not really proofread so sorry for any mistakes!!!
But uh yeah hope you enjoyed!!
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dessiekarma · 4 years
Text
My Harem is Entirely Bad Boy Types (Kirisaki Daiichi x Reader) Pt. 8
Chapter 8: I Never Imagined My First Love Confession Would Go Down This Way
(Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open and a blinding white light consumed her senses. The sterile smell of hospital was all around her and she knew exactly how she got there.
 As her eyes finally focused, she was very aware of the person seemingly sleeping at her side. Short black hair looked a mess and a pale hand was clutching her bed sheets desperately. Without thinking the girl put all her effort into lifting her arm to place it gently atop the tired person’s head.
Immediately the person shot up to reveal Ms. Hanamiya’s tired and now relieved face. The tears came to the older woman’s eyes and down her cheeks instantly. Within seconds her captain’s mom was running her fingers through the girl’s hair and fussing over her the way a mother would.
 “What’s hurting you dear? Do you need anything? Can I get you something?”
 “No…my head hurts but I’m fine.” (Y/N) said trying to sit up only to sway back down.
 “No no no, don’t do that. You’ve had a concussion; you shouldn’t be exerting any energy.”
 “A concussion? Did I hit myself on the steps that badly?” (Y/N) mused more to herself than to her. Finally adjusted, there really was pain all over her body and looking down she noticed a thin cast on her arm.
 Reaching up she could feel a small bald patch on the left side of her head along with a tender row of stitches. Touching around her face she thankfully didn’t feel any lacerations there, but the sore areas made her wonder if she was bruised.
 “It’s not true is it?”
 (Y/N) turned to the desperate woman’s voice and tried to make sense of her words.
 “Huh?”
 “I know it’s what everyone is saying and thinking. The police talked to the neighbors in our apartment complex and they said they heard him screaming at you and threatening you. I know he was mad but I didn’t think…I don’t think. Makoto didn’t push you down those stairs.”
 What had started as a question very clearly turned into a statement. Mrs. Hanamiya knew deep down what had happened. And with no hesitation (Y/N) shook her head, causing her mind to spin at the movement.
 “No, he didn’t. It was an accident…he wanted to go and get you, but I held onto him. I wouldn’t let go even though he was telling me over and over again. He never pushed me, in fact he was pulling away from me and then I lost my balance. He never put a hand on me.”
 “I knew it. I knew my baby wouldn’t do that to someone like you. Someone he actually gives a shit about. But I don’t understand why…”
 “Why what?”
 “Why he’s admitting to it.”
 “He’s what? Where is he?”
 “He’s in the room next door, he sprained his ankle running to get me so we could call the ambulance. The police are asking more questions, trying to figure if it was a domestic spat and if you want to press charges.”
 “Well I don’t! He didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t know why he’s saying he did! I need to talk with the police.”
 “No dear, please you can’t be out of bed right now. Let me tell them you’re awake and that you wish to speak with them. I’ll send the boys in to keep you company.”
 The short woman got up and opened the door revealing a row of worried KiriDai boys sitting out in the hall. They looked up instantly and their eyes went straight to their now upright manager. Without a word they rushed in and allowed the woman to close the door behind her.
 “What the hell happened?” Seto asked looking like he was trying to find someone to blame, either Hanamiya or even (Y/N) herself.
 “I told you we needed to go after her sooner! We waited too long and she wouldn’t have run off so recklessly, if Hara hadn’t been an insensitive prick.”
 “Don’t blame me for shit you stupid fu-”
 “Guys it was my fault. I was the one who pushed him away from me and I was the one who wouldn’t let go until he had to shake me off. But never once did he actually try to hurt me.”
 “Well that’s not what he’s saying in there.” Furuhashi stated, taking a cautious seat on the edge of her hospital bed.  “He’s saying you pissed him off so he pushed you down the stairs.”
 “He’s also saying he’s strangled, intimidated, and grabbed you out of anger.”
 “Which are all not completely untrue.” Seto added under his breath.
 “But you know it wasn’t like that! He has never purposely hurt me. I was the one that wouldn’t leave him alone!”
 “My my don’t we sound like the battered housewife.”
 The teens turned towards the sound of the smooth voice only to find a stern looking woman standing in the doorway. She appeared to eye (Y/N) up and down before letting out a sigh. The boys were not ignorant to the fact that their manager was now sitting more stiffly and trying hard to avert her eyes from the cold woman.
 “So whats the damage? Broken arm, bruised rib cage, a laceration to the head and a concussion to boot. Don’t tell me you’re even more stupid than anticipated and pregnant with an abusive man’s child as well?”
 The woman knew it was a low blow, considering everything. (Y/N) looked ready to cry and Seto took a step forward.
 “Who the hell are you? I think this is the last thing (Y/N) needs right now.”
 “Well the hospital called me so naturally I had to show up. I am (Y/N)’s guardian while she is living here in Japan. Now if you don’t mind, I need you to step out of the room while I speak with her.”
 “We aren’t going anywhere.” Furuhashi said firmly, unconsciously taking (Y/N) hand into his own.
 “Oh so is this the one? Ahh so not only are you playing the abused girlfriend but also the mistress. Furuhashi Kojiro, the tech heir, whose parents have been gushing about your recent engagement. To think you’d be so openly defiant.”
 “He’s not the one who did this to me, not my boyfriend and the man who did do it…it really was an accident. I’m perfectly okay, and nobody worth worrying about know so what more do you want? Whatever you want to talk to me about you can talk to me in front of my team.”
 “Very well. I figured I’d spare you but if you insist. I came to tell you to get it together. I thought you were tired of trying to get mommy and daddy’s attention. I came to ensure that you weren’t going to press any charges or make this into a big deal than it need be, regardless of whose attention you’re after.”
 “Listen I didn’t-”
 “You listen. I thought you grew out of this phase and were beginning to see the importance of presenting a good image. I thought you were understanding why you were brought to Japan in the first place. I know you think that dating the bad boy and surrounding yourself with those types is fun and thrilling. Maybe you even think you can change them. But a bad boy needs a good girl and you can’t give them that.”
 (Y/N)’s defiant face didn’t waver a bit, but a tear ran down her cheek.
 “Do any of them even know about you? About your little hobby? About your a-”
 “Did you call my father?” (Y/N) cut the woman off only for her to shake her head and check the time on her watch.
 “And what, pray tell, would that accomplish? You think he’s going to run down here at the drop of a hat just because you got banged up by the boy you’re banging? He’s a busy man after all.”
 “I want to see him. If you don’t call him I will.”
 “Go ahead. You really want to be a burden to your father?”
 (Y/N)’s eyes glossed over and turned away from the woman she went into a thousand-yard stare.
 “Well that takes care of that. Here” The woman said tossing a small envelope in the girl’s lap. “That woman with the ghastly eyebrows is the boy’s mother, yes? Ensure she gets the money to cover any expenses your little situation has caused.”
 With that the woman walked out leaving (Y/N) now free to cry and her team with a million unanswered questions.
 “What the hell was that all about?!” Hara suddenly blew up. “Yeah we know the situation but she doesn’t, so where the hell does she get off telling you not to press charges and giving your potential abuser money?!”
 “That’s just the way she’s always been, trying to save face.” (Y/N) shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes.
 “She’s always treated you like this and your parents are just okay with that?” Yamazaki asked looking pretty steamed as well.
 “It’s either stay with her or move back home. I’ve wanted to in the past…but now I’m in too deep to quit everything now.”
 “What did she mean about you not being a good girl? About your hobby?” Furuhashi asked, still holding onto the girl’s hand.
 “I guess the reason I’ve always been able to see the good in you guys despite what people told me…is because I wasn’t always a good person either. I’d just leave it at that.”
~~~~~
 “Are you sure you’re okay?” Yamazaki asked (Y/N) as she took her seat in class. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at her overly concerned friend.
 “I’m fine Zaki, my arm is broken not my leg.”
 “Yeah and besides what sense did it make for you to walk her when she and I literally have the same class?” Hara asked throwing himself down in his own seat.
 “You’re too easily distracted! A hot girl could have walked by and bam (Y/N) would be left on her own.
 “Oh bite me.”
 “Well I heard she cheated on him with one of his teammates but shes always hanging around with all of them that it was hard to tell which one she’s dating.” Hara picked up the sound of whispered girl’s gossiping, while Yamazaki continued fussing over (Y/N).
 “But still she didn’t deserve to get beaten that badly.”
 “She knew what she signed up for dating those types. Its her own fault for making poor choices.”
 Hara turned his body in his seat to face the girls who continued giggling and gossiping. Running a hand through his hair he knew instantly that they were talking about (Y/N) by the way they kept glancing at her.
 “Hey Yuna.” His voice flowed out causing the girl’s eyes to widen in surprise. She seemed to look around her as if to be sure he was speaking to her, when she realized he was she smiled brightly.
 “Umm hey Hara, we haven’t talked in awhile huh? Weirdly enough since we have the same class.” Her voice chirped out dripping with the slightest bit of resentment.
 “Yeah funny enough I was just thinking about you last night.”
 “You were?” The girl asked suddenly glowing a neon red.
 “Yeah, I was cleaning out my room and found your bra. I mean at least I figured its yours since its kinda small.”
 You could practically hear the record scratching sound in the room for the several people who heard that comment. Yuna’s face grew even redder but this time out of anger.
 “Y-you’re such an asshole! It wasn’t enough that you never called me back but you have to rub it in now too!?”
 “Hey I was honest from the start about what I wanted and you said you were okay with it. Maybe don’t make such poor choices next time.”
 “So that’s what its about? Defending that bitch!”
 (Y/N) finally turned around, along with the rest of the class to look on at the girl’s outburst.
 “You love bragging about your body count, d’you know hers is probably double?!”
 “Shut up Yuna.” Yamazaki said casting a harsh glare. “Whatever Mei has been telling you is-”
 “Mei?! Mei doesn’t have to tell me anything! Everyone knows the truth! We all know why she transferred to this school and her middle school reputation. She wanted to pretend like she was some innocent little otaku when now we all know she’s a slut! So, I’m glad Hanamiya finally got the sense to beat the shit out of her.”
 “That’s enough!” (Y/N) said slamming her good arm onto the table. She marched over to the girl and watched her slightly drift back in her seat. “I can handle all these bullshit rumours about me, but if you think you can sit there and slander my captain, my friend and speak of a situation you have no idea on…then I hope you can run those hands as fast as your mouth!”
 “Ms. (L/N)!” A teacher’s voice called out, having walked in on time to hear her threat. “Mr. Yamazaki you are not in this class so I recommend you make your way to where you belong.”
 The red head nodded and made his way out but not before giving (Y/N) a reassuring rub on the head.
 He knew deep down Hanamiya was right all those months ago. It was his fault that Mei was messing with (Y/N) and now these rumours were getting out of control.
 It was time to admit to himself that he originally did flaunt (Y/N) and his attraction to her in front of his ex. He wanted to see her hurt the way she hurt him. But the more his feelings for (Y/N) actually grew the less he cared about what Mei thought and the more he realized how much his selfish actions had hurt the girl he grew to care about.
~~~~~
 “You can’t be fucking serious?” Hara asked staring at his captain, still in school uniform.
 The rest of the team in their jerseys, stared at Hanamiya with just as much intensity. All but (Y/N), who couldn’t tear her eyes away from the floor.
 “This is fucking ridiculous! You think just because of some bullshit mistake you can just throw everything away!? We have interhigh and winter cup! This is our last chance to make it and you decide that you’re quitting on us?” Yamazaki exclaimed but Hanamiya’s face didn’t falter.
 “I don’t think you’ve thought this through. Your mother told me you’re here on a sports scholarship, so what exactly do you think will happen when you quit?” Seto asked trying to bring some logic to the situation.
 “I will lose my scholarship and be forced to pay the remainder of my tuition out of pocket. Though it would seem the money given to my mother by (Y/N)’s guardian is more than enough to cover it.”
 “Why are you deciding this? What is it going to solve?” Furuhashi asked knowing the vague reason why but not understanding what good it would do.
 “I can’t seem to control myself around her. She makes me feel too many things and that makes me want to hurt her.”
 (Y/N) stiffened, not at Hanamiya’s words but at him speaking of her as if she wasn’t there.
 “That doesn’t make sense!” Hara lashed out. “She makes me feel things and I have never wanted to hurt her, and you don’t either! You hate that you hurt her. She asks hard questions, she tells us shit other people are too afraid to, of course you’re going to feel something. And yeah sometimes its gonna make you mad but she’s not a bad person!”
 “I know she’s not.” Hanamiya said finally looking at the girl though she stayed turned away from his gaze. “She is probably the kindest person who has ever tried to be my friend and I hurt her anyway. If I can do that then I’ve become exactly what I thought I would. So I’m not gonna let it get to that, to have to force her to escape from me. I messed up so I need to remove myself from the situation.”
 “This isn’t just about you and her!” Furuhashi called out with some emotion in his voice now. “What about us?! What about basketball?”
 “We need a captain. This is your team.” Seto murmured running a hand through his hair.
 “You can have it. You be the captain, you take the team.”
 “What if I don’t want it? It’s your team that YOU built! None of us had anything to do with it! None of us care about basketball as much as you do! You’ve built this team up from nothing!”
 “It’s still nothing! All of it is just bullshit! It was built on what?! My lies, injuries and mind games!? If you don’t want it then give it to Hara and if none of you want it…then the Kirisaki Daiichi basketball team is officially disbanded after today!”
 The gym had gone whisper quiet. And it was with reason it did as her voice wouldn’t have been heard otherwise.
 “I’ll go.” (Y/N)’s shakey voice wavered out, tears finally coming from her eyes and hitting the top of her hand.
 “What?” Hanamiya asked, sneering, jumping back as the girl suddenly came at him only to throw her arms around his torso and press her face into his chest. Her tears were soaking through the layers of his clothes.
 “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Don’t go! It wasn’t your mistake it was mine. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go!”
 “(Y/N), stop.” Yamazaki said, trying to usher the girl away.
 “No! You told me basketball is the only thing that makes you happy! Don’t let me take that from you! You stay and I’ll go! I promise you’ll never see me around your gym again! I…I’ll move back to Touou!”
 “Didn’t you listen to anything I just said!? You’re not running away from me! You hated Touou! I’m not letting you be the one to keep losing! You did it with Imayoshi and you’re doing it with me to! Stop apologizing to people that are hurting you!”
 “No please. Please just stay…I’ll stay away from you. I won’t speak to you or hang around you anymore than I need to! I promise. Don’t let me ruin…everything.”
 “Hanamiya you can’t quit! You told me this was what you wanted to do for life! You wanted to play college basketball and move to America!” Yamazaki interjected. “Seniors get scouted now, how the hell do you achieve your dreams without us?”
 “I guess I do something else. Life doesn’t work perfectly but you work around it.” Hanamiya deadpanned before taking a step away from the girl still clutching him. “Please get off me. The team doesn’t have to fall apart. I recommend you don’t let it.”
 With that the dark haired male made his way out the gym, leaving behind 4 stunned boys and a still weeping girl.
 “It’s all my fault.” (Y/N) mumbled to herself over and over again.
 None of the team truly believed that.
 But none of them believed denying it would help either.
~~~~~
 “Wanna shoot some hoops with me?” Yamazaki asked, running his fingers through (Y/N) hair as her head lie in his lap.
 He’d been with her as often as he could have these past few days. They walked home together and sometimes though her words never said it, the desperate way she clung to his shirt let him know she didn’t want him to leave. Those nights he would stay with her as long as she needed, even if it was all night.
 “No.”
 “Wanna get some food or-?”
 “Uh uh.”
 “Stop fuckin babying her!” Hara exclaimed slapping Yamazaki’s hands away from her head. “Look I hate to say it…but things aren’t changing, and she needs to start getting over it.”
 “That’s a douchebag thing to say!” The orange haired male exclaimed, only for (Y/N) to push out of his embrace.
 “He’s right Zaki. I guess I hoped that holding onto guilt and feeling bad for myself would somehow make him come back…but it’s been a week.”
 “Exactly and despite what we said, if we wanna keep this team an actual team we can’t start slacking off so close to the competition.” Seto said with a firm voice.
 With Hanamiya leaving, it had only made sense to have the replacement captain as the second smartest guy on the team. Dirty tactics or not, they were a team known for their strategies and analytics. Seto could definitely provide them with what they knew they would be lacking.
 “So, are we finally having practice today?” Furuhashi asked, not being happy with the distraction of practicing being absent the past few days. “Also did you finally inform Matsumoto on what was happening?”
 “Maybe and yes I did. He suspected Hanamiya was no longer a part of the team judging by the fact that he doesn’t sit with us for lunch anymore.”
 “Wait why the maybe on practice?” (Y/N) asked trying to keep her concern on the matter at hand and not dwell on that lunchroom situation.
 “Well it would seem that most of our balls have lost air from the second string continuing to practice with them…and I have no clue where Hanamiya kept the basketball supplies to find an air pump.”
 “Shouldn’t you know where that is? You’re our manager, so manage this.” Hara casted his eyes on (Y/N).
 “I know where it is but its that small supply closet in the locker room…which has a key…which Hanamiya has. I don’t know where to get another copy.” The girl admitted timidly.
 “Huh that’s a tough one.” Yamazaki commented, deep in thought.
 “Then get another pump.” Furuhashi scoffed with squinted eyes looking baffled that his team is could really be this incompetent.
 “Yeah they aren’t that expensive or anything. I can give you guys the card I use for club expenses and you can go to the-”
 “Woah woah YOU GUYS could go?” Hara asked unknowingly lifting a brow at the girl. “You mean WE could go. Are you a part of this team anymore or not?”
 “Of course, I am. I just haven’t been feeling up to going out lately.” (Y/N) said tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
 “Hey I have a sister, I know that sound and its not ‘I egged my captain into becoming what he always feared’ depression. That’s insecurity depression.” Yamazaki stared at the girl with heavy eyes. “Don’t tell me the rumours Mei is spreading are starting to get to you.”
 “They’ve been getting to her since she wrote the word ‘slut’ on her desk.” Furuhashi said with an eyeroll.
 “What when did that happen!?”
 “A few chapters ago.” Furuhashi said with a sigh. “Regardless, (Y/N) may have been making it seem like none of this is bothering her, but the only girls not bothered by those kinds rumours are the ones who know the actual truth would be worse. Heroine of the story or not, its obvious enough when someone is pretending to be strong.”
 “If it’s not true why should she worry?” Seto said rubbing the back of his neck. “And if it is true…why worry?”
 “Hey don’t talk about (Y/N) like that!” Yamazaki hissed, his eyes glowing red and tongue practically forking like a snake.
 “Like what?” Seto asked cracking his neck. “I didn’t say anything bad.”
 “You said the rumours might be true! (Y/N) isn’t some easy girl! How dare you call her a slut!” The male was now cradling the blushing girl to his chest.
 “I didn’t say she was a slut. But so what if she’s slept with all these people everyone is saying. Doesn’t change what we already know about her.”
 “It does to me! That would mean I’d have to out do her total!” Hara exclaimed. “Girls with a higher body count always act like they know more than you when you get them in bed!”
 “And what makes you so sure you could get me in your bed?” (Y/N) pouted reeling her leg back to kick him.
 “I’m sorry would you prefer the roof a- Ahh! You bitch.” Hara exclaimed reaching under the table to hold his kneecap. “I still have to play basketball on this leg!”
 “Well I doubt it could make you worse!”
 “I change my mind, let’s just disband. I have a career ending injury here.”
 “Can you end what never began?” Furuhashi deadpanned.
 “Hey can we all meet our trains of thought at the same station for once?” Seto asked rubbing his temples, wondering how the hell Hanamiya ever got anything done with this team. It was very apparent know why he had been so keen on not losing (Y/N) when he saw her potential to take care of this petty shit. “I’m captain and rules are rules. We are all going to get the damned pump after school and that’s that.”
~~~~~
 “Why is it so hard to find this damn pump!” Seto asked looking exasperated, his hair a mess.
 “Well with prelim games and competitions coming up a lot of these sports stores are selling their stock faster than they can keep the shelves full. “ (Y/N) said crossing yet another store off their list.
 “My family literally hires people to go out and buy shit for us. Please tell me why the hell we thought coming out here on foot was the best way to find this god forsaken pump?” Furuhashi asked, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
 “Because do we really wanna be ‘those’ rich kids?” Seto asked.
 “I do!” Yamazaki exclaimed trailing behind.
 “I’ve lived up to it pretty well. I’m like a male Japanese Paris Hilton.” Hara snapped his gum loudly.
 “I was born as one of ‘those’ rich kids I don’t intend on changing it now.” Furuhashi breathlessly answered.
 Seto sighed heavily before giving a small smile.
 “Can’t you guys just see this as some kind of team building?”
 “Yeah! I think it’s a nice day and this is better than being cooped up in the gym!” (Y/N) exclaimed giving Seto an encouraging pat on the back.
 “We should have just asked Hanamiya for the key!” Hara whined.
 “For athletes you guys are in horrible condition right now.” (Y/N) lifted a brow at the boys.
 “Gyms are air conditioned and don’t involve walking miles in circles.”
 “Big baby.” (Y/N) slapped Hara on the ass only to watch him jump in surprise. “Look there’s a smoothie shop there. Let’s stop in have a rest while I look up stores that might have these in stock.
 Seto watched his team members burst into the door and grab a seat. He slowly followed behind and unintentionally caught a glimpse of her phone. And he almost would have been pissed that she wasn’t looking up sporting goods stores like she said until he saw the content of the page.
 Her finger was scanning back and forth between two social media pages. Each were filled with people from Kirisaki Daiichi talking shit about her. Pictures of her innocently having lunch with them were captioned #gangbang #bukake #slut.
 “(Y/N)”
 “Yeah Seto?”
 “Can I ask you something?”
 “If it’s about what I was looking up…no.”
 “It’s not actually.”
 “Oh…then shoot.”
 “So, you remember the whole Seirin interview and how you-”
 “Hey so what gives!? Any stores have a pump or no?” Hara yelled pulling his mouth from the straw of his cup.
 (Y/N) suddenly seemed to forget Seto and walked to sit at the table next to Yamazaki. Seto realized his hand was reaching out to her a second later than he would have liked. Shaking his head, he scolded himself for having the gall to ask her what he had been about to ask.
 It was abundantly clear that the guys were pining over her…even his former captain had yet to come to terms with certain feelings he was having. And he knew given those odds, mathematically it should be a 1 to 5 shot. But with him…being him it was more like 1 to 5000.
 “I found one! I found one!” (Y/N) exclaimed before shushing her teammates and dialing the store. “Hello! I was looking at your store online and saw that you had 1 more air pump left in stock! Do you think you could please please hold it for my team and we will come by to pick it up in about 15 minutes! You’re amazing! Thank you so much!”
 “Fifteen minutes!” Yamazaki practically melted into his seat. “I just barely reregulated my body temperature! And now we have to haul ass to get there in 15 minutes?”
 “It’s at the end of this shopping strip, lazy boy!” (Y/N) said with a chuckle placing her hand on her friend’s cheek and tapping it softly. “I wanted to get the chance to actually order a smoothie too!”
 Yamazaki burned red from being called lazy. He was about to defend himself before (Y/N) leaned over to him with a smile.
 “What did you order?”
 “Umm chocolate banana.”
 “Can I try!?”
 “Ohh okay.” Yamazaki stammered, reaching a shaking hand up to remove the lid. He was caught by surprise when the girl dipped her head and wrapped her lips around the straw. Every brain cell he had was being used to focus on not crushing the cup in his hands.
 She drank from the cup he had already drunken out of like it was nothing! She put her lips were his had been like 10 seconds before. That was close enough in time to practically be a kiss. Finally lifting her head up the girl licked a drop off her lips.
 “That was really good but a bit sweet.”
 “Just kiss me already.” Yamazaki mumbled lovestruck under his breath.
 “Haha what?”
 “Nothing! You should get your smoothie so was can get that plump---pump!”
 “You think she did that on purpose?” Hara asked Furuhashi in a whispered voice, both having witnessed the interaction.
 “No. I’ve seen her actually flirting up close, this is just her being our overfriendly oblivious protagonist.”
 “Yeah I figured as mu.   .   .   .how ‘up close’ are we talking here!?”
~~~~~
 “Why is the cashier handing that extremely cute boy a basketball pump?” (Y/N) asked with wide eyes. “Online it said there was only one.”
 “Ehh I’d say he’s pretty average.” Furuhashi commented.
 “Not the point!” (Y/N) said taking off to the counter. “Excuse me! I’m so sorry to interrupt but my friends and I are in a rush and we placed a hold on a basketball pump.”
 The cashier held her smile but went ghostly pale as she looked between the boy and girl.
 “I’ll go get my manager.”
 With that the woman disappeared and (Y/N) smacked her forehead into the counter. That was until a sudden thought crossed her mind. Paying careful mind to flip her hair, just so that her perfume would waft to the boys nose she looked up at him through her lashes. The very tip of her nose was red and her eyes were watered slightly.
 “Have you already purchased that pump?”
 “Uhhmm, yeah…I mean no. I mean I put it on hold and was pay gonna---gonna pay!”
 “Oh no, I just can’t seem to catch a break today. I’ve been looking for a pump all over Tokyo it seems.”
 “Oh yeah… have too. Hard to find because competition. I don’t know why I’m not full sentence.” The boy mumbled not trying to hide his blushing face. Clearing his through the male seemed to try and put on his own charming mask. “You know, I’m getting this for a stupid reason. Why don’t you take I-”
 “Takao!” A firm voice came from behind the male causing him to stiffen. “Are you about to give away my air pump? And Oha Asa is not stupid.”
 (Y/N) frowned at the tall green haired male foiling her flirting. That pump was so close to being hers it was ridiculous.
 Looking the tall male up and down she felt a warm blush cover her face. She quickly tore her eyes away from his big strong looking hands. While he definitely seemed to be the one in control, she figured there was no harm in trying.
 Bringing the waterworks back, (Y/N) made a point of shimming her shoulders just bit pushing her breasts together as she held a hand over her eyes.
 “I’m sorry for crying like this in front of such handsome strangers. I’ve just been having the worst luck today.”
 “Then you should invest into getting your own lucky items. Precisely why I will be needing this pump.”
 At that moment (Y/N) knew her flirting was gonna get her nowhere.
 “Umm hello.” The sales associate came back practically knocking her knees into each other. “So, turns out one of my coworkers put the pump on hold for this young lady and I put the pump on hold for this young man…and my manager is really pissed and telling me its my problem so please solve this among yourselves.”
 “Wait,” Seto started, coming up behind (Y/N) to assert himself. “Who called first?”
 “I believe your friend did.”
 “But who got here first?” Midorima asked pointing to the pump in Takao’s hand matter of factly.
 “Well, umm this gentleman.”
 “Therefore, we are clearly the ones deserving of the pump. Takao pay her and lets go.”
 “We really need that pump!” Yamazaki finally came up to put in his own fight.
 “As do I, it is my lucky item for tomorrow.”
 .      .      .
 “Lucky item?” Hara asked with a questioning look.
 “Quirky horoscope stuff.” Furuhashi explained quickly.
 “Hey Shin-chan” Takao mumbled motioning the green haired male to lean down and hear his whisper.
 As he lowererd his head a tad and allowed his eyelashes to flutter slightly, (Y/N) felt her heart thumping hard.
 “Let’s just let them have it.” (Y/N) said, tugging Seto down to whisper to him.
 “What the hell? Why would we even consider doing that?”
 “Because they’re cute?”
 “Can’t we just let her have it?” Takao whispered to his own teammate.
 “Don’t be ridiculous! We’ve had all the new recruits looking for a pump all day! Why would we let her have it?”
 “Because she’s cute?”
 Both (Y/N) and Takao received reprimanding smacks on the head.
 “Come on Takao we have the rest of the team searching the shopping center for pump. Let’s go.”
 “Why don’t we play basketball for it?” Furuhashi asked, catching everyone’s attention.
 “Why would I agree to that when the item is already in our hands and one transaction away from being nonnegotiable?” Midorima sneered down at the male.
 “Pride.”
~~~~~
 “No, way! We were here first so get lost!” The guy yelled out at the two teams.
 “Come on Seto! Let me kick their asses and the court will be all ours.” Hara said while the tanned male placed an arm in front of him.
 “We should have figured that all the courts would be used right now too.” Yamazaki mumbled before looking back at (Y/N) who had been hanging back with the Shutoku team ever since they left the sporting goods store.
 “So, are you and Midorima close?” The girl asked with practically heart shaped pupils directed at the two.
 “Oh yeah! I’m like Shin-chan’s best friend!”
 “We are basketball teammates! That’s all!”
 Little hearts practically radiated off (Y/N) as she smiled at the bickering boys.
 “She’s really into one of them.” Furuhashi commented watching the exchange.
 “Do you think so?” Yamazaki asked with just the slightest hurt tinging in his voice.
 “Well yeah. She didn’t even act like this with Okamura. This is real investment; she’s been asking them about themselves the whole time.”
 The orange haired male didn’t respond but sighed deeply. Maybe that was the reason he never got further than square one with (Y/N). Regardless of who she was going after…neither was like him.
 Midorima was the serious type. The glasses character who was kind of a know-it-all asshole.
 Takao was the cool but upbeat type. The guy who was making dumb faces one minute but making girls swoon the next.
 Everyone else in Kirisaki Daiichi fell into one of those two categories.
 But as for him? He wasn’t really possessing of the brain power to be the know-it-all serious guy. And with this perpetually angry look on his face combined with his loud voice he definitely didn’t come across as the cheerful type either.
 He had naively assumed that being the first to take interest in (Y/N) meant that he would have some kind of advantage. But reality didn’t work that way romcom anime did. Nothing in the rules said she had to end up with him, or any of the guys from KiriDai for that matter.
 “Get out of here old man! This is our basketball court!”
 Yamazaki looked up to see two 7-year old kids sticking their tongues out at Seto.
 “Who are you calling an old man, you little brats!?”
 “Hey come on it’s not worth it!” The little boy said tugging on his friend’s arm. “This guy could be Yakuza or something!”
 “No no!” (Y/N) said coming between her steamed captain and the kids. Getting down on their level, it was the kids turn to grow hearts in their eyes. “I’m sorry if my friend scared you boys!”
 “He didn’t scare me at all!”
 “Yeah I just didn’t want to cause any trouble for him!”
 “How noble of you both.” The young woman patted the top of their heads, causing them to flash her huge grins. “I’m glad you two know when a fight isn’t worth it.”
 “You can borrow the court if you want!”
 “Yeah we don’t even have a basketball! We were using this!” One of them said holding out a baseball.
 .     .     .
 “Uhhhh Shin-shan, do we have a basketball?”
 “No, I assumed the team who proposed the challenge would have one.”
 Everyone on both team turned to look at Furuhashi who was failing in keeping a straight face. His mouth slowly twisted into an embarrassed little pout before he clicked his tongue.
 “I suppose I assumed someone else would let us borrow theirs.”
 “Great! Just fuc-”
 “Language! There’s children present!” (Y/N) scolded Hara.
 “Just flippin great! How in the h- do we figure out who gets the pump now?”
 “Shin-chan, doesn’t Oha Asa do a secondary item? Can’t you just get that instead of the pump?”
 The glasses-wearing male grew absolutely red in the face and covered his mouth with his hand.
 “This was the secondary item.”
 “Ehh really?” Takao said looking surprised. “Then what was the first?”
 Midorima looked around without meeting anyone’s eyes before landing his gaze on the children.
 “Cover their ears.”
~~~~~
 The walk back to the sporting goods store was quiet and just the slightest bit awkward. (Y/N) was particularly red in the face as she shuffled along with her team.
 “So uhhh, thanks for taking one for the team.” Seto commented, not sure of what to say but figuring anything was better than silence.
 “It was umm no big deal.”
 “We can reimburse you for the cost of your pa-”
 “That’s okay! Let’s just get the pump and get this over with.”
 “I never knew Oha Asa was so…kinky.” Furuhashi commented. “To think his lucky item would be a foreigner’s pa-”
 “You’ve gotta be shitting me!” Hara exclaimed as they came up on the store.
 A huge closed sign was hanging in the window of the now dark shop. Including another handwritten sign reading
 ‘We hope you guys decided who gets the pump. Unfortunately, we will be closed until 11a.m tomorrow. Sorry for the inconvenience.’
 “Well today was productive.” (Y/N) said sarcastically.
 “Hey we made it threw as a team. I’d say today wasn’t a total loss.” Seto offered.
 “I guess we did discover that (Y/N) rides or dies hard for the team.” Hara gave the girl a nasty smirk which she proceeded to try and slap off his face.
 Yamazaki watched the two play fight before drawing in a huge breath.
 “(Y/N) can I walk you home again? I really wanted to talk with you about something!���
 The whole team suddenly grew stiff as they realized exactly what Yamazaki was gonna do. They turned to their manager waiting for her response. She looked equally surprised but gave Yamazaki a big smile and nodded her head quickly.
 “Sure!”
~~~~~
 Seto threw himself onto the couch beside his brother.
 “Hey how was your day?!”
 “Fine.”
 “Did you find an outfit to wear to the party?”
 “No, I figured I would wear my school uniform.”
 “This is serious Seto! And you wonder why mom and dad are always on your ass.”
 “Oh I know precisely why they are on my ass.”
 Seto looked at his brother and took in the small slip holding his bangs back to not fall into the goop he had sitting on his face. The older male was busy scrolling through various circle lenses on his phone no doubt figuring out which to buy before the party.
 “Please tell me you at least have a date? Mom and dad are expecting one this time!”
 “And if I don’t?”
 “You’re a senior! You should be having dates, I had dozens when I was your age.”
 “Yeah and all of them were dumb as dirt.”
 “Come on little brother! This is such a big deal for me!”
 Seto sighed. He loved his brother and he knew that this really did mean a lot to him. It was the announcement of something he had been working really hard for his whole life.
 “I know. I’ll put some effort into figuring out the outfit.”
 “And fi-”
 “And fixing my hair! As for the date…I already have one.”
 “Are you serious! Is it true?!”
 Seto felt his skin pale at the high-pitched woman’s voice come bounding into the room. His mother wrapped her arms around the shoulders of her oldest son while looking at Seto with what he would almost call smug disbelief.
 “Yes, it’s true.” He said maybe a bit more defensively than he wanted.
 “And where did we find her?”
 “The red-light district.” He said with the role of his eyes and heavy sarcasm dripping in his tone.
 “I’m serious son. If you paid or tricked some girl into this please at least be sure she can act like a lady.”
 “Oh my god?! I can’t get a date unless I’m paying or threatening her!?”
 “Hey bro, no we just th-”
 “Well you’re wrong! (Y/N) is my girlfriend and we’ve been dating for months!”
 “So, is it the girl who gave you those Valentines chocolates!? Aww my little bro has a little girlfriend! I knew you would find a good girl when the time was right! I told mom and dad you were just a late bloomer! Chukahae!”
 Seto sat in the grave he’d dug himself as his brother droned on about being happy for him and his mother maintained the unsettlingly fake smile on her face.
 He had hesitated earlier but he supposed now he didn’t have a choice in the matter.
~~~~~
 “From the sounds of it your former team was invitation only. Why did (Y/N) bypass this?”
 Hanamiya looked at the doctor and debated over his answer. He knew he was here to be psychoanalyzed but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to think and overthink all his answers before he gave them.
 This had been something he and his mother agreed on pretty quickly. An easy step to trying to make him and their relationship healthier. She was in the same one-on-one therapy sessions.
 “Because my friends wanted her to stay. And she was a bigger help to the team than I wanted to admit.”
 “And why did you never get help with the team to start with?”
 “Well you know the saying, if you want something done right do it yourself. She just happened to be the first person to do it right.”
 “I see. From the way you tell me the story of how you met I notice you didn’t speak much on it. But what about (Y/N)’s ex?”
 “What about him?”
 “Well you told me he tried to keep (Y/N) from the team. How did you feel about that?”
 “Fucking pissed. Who the hell was he to judge my whole team, call us manipulative and then go and try to manipulate his own girlfriend?”
 “So you would say he’s manipulative. Would you describe him as abusive?”
 “Yeah, I don’t know that most people would agree with that but it is what it is. If you start controlling where your significant other is going, who they talk to, and purposely try to keep them in a bad situation for YOUR own benefit then you’re an abusive piece of shit.”
 “But (Y/N) chose you.”
 .     .     .
 “Yeah.”
 “She left her abuser for you before the abuse could escalate. Almost a direct parallel to your mother leaving your father. She leaves, is hurt deeply, unbeknownst to them you are hurt in the process. It’s all just history repeating itself for you.”
 Hanamiya stayed quiet. He remembered word for word (Y/N) telling the team how she had broken up with Imayoshi and chose to make her own decision. She wasn’t going to let anyone control her and he had instantly felt himself drawn to her.
 She was protecting herself against Imayoshi. Furuhashi told him about that time on the train, she didn’t let her teammate take advantage of her, even if it wasn’t his intention. She stood her ground against the guy in the cafeteria.
 So why did it seem when he was the one with his hands strangling the life from her, or his grip bruising her soft flesh, his voice cursing and threatening her that she didn’t do anything? She let it happen….was it out of fear?
 Or maybe it was because deep down she knew what he hadn’t accepted yet…that he didn’t want to hurt her.
 “But then you switched your roles. Instead of being the young child stuck in the middle of a nasty divorce. She is now the wife and you are your father.”
 “I am his son, that’s all I can be.”
 “Yes, you have to be his son, nobody can change that. But half your DNA is of your mother, it’s a unique mix and you are your own person.”
 “What if the person I am is just bad?”
 “But what if he’s not? Have you ever given yourself the opportunity to be anything other than what you hate? I think the reason you quit your team, the reason you reach out to hurt people you truly love and the reason you don’t allow yourself much good in life isn’t because you’re too intelligent. Intelligent people have the world at their fingertips, I believe they can love life. No, I think the reason is that you’re trying to punish him. But Makoto you are…undeniably you and you’re only punishing yourself.”
 “That’s partially it but I think too I’m not as good as people hope. I’m punishing her too. It hurt her for me to leave the team and I was … glad. Ever since she joined the team I’ve been punishing myself and her too. She makes me so unbelievably angry.”
 “Anger is okay, feeling human emotion is okay. There’s no bad emotions. But there is the root of your problem. You’re not angry at (Y/N) or yourself on the deeper level.
 You are NOT your father.
 And (Y/N) isn’t your mother.
 You two can have a healthier relationship then they ever had a chance to. But you have to stop emotionally hurting the both of you.”
~~~~~
 “Thanks for walking me home Zaki!”
 “It’s no problem.” The male said leading (Y/N) up to the large guesthouse near the back of the huge estate she lived on. Scratching his temple, he was tempted to ask her the same question that had been on his mind the whole way over here.
 “So what’s on your mind? It’s been bothering you since we ran into those boys.”
 “Huh? Am I that easy to read?”
 “Yes actually.”
 “Ohh umm it’s not important. I guess I was just wondering…Do you have a thing for Takao and Midorima?!” He blurted out with no shred of dignity left.
 “Hmm? You noticed?”
 “We all noticed!”
 “Oh that’s pretty embarrassing!” (Y/N) said holding onto her red face. “They probably think I’m so weird now! I know better than shipping real people, but I just couldn’t resist they were just so perfect together!”
 “Huh? Shipping?”
 “Yeah, don’t get me wrong I’m not a fujoshi or anything but they just had such good chemistry and balanced each other so well! Now they must think I was being super creepy!”
 “What no! We all thought you were into them as in wanting to date them!”
 “Oh! Huh do you think that’s why Kazunari-kun gave me his phone number?”
 “You are so dense! How can you not tell when a guy is coming on to you!?”
 “Well I’m kinda numb to all that stuff okay?! I’m not entirely sure when someone is playing and when they’re being serious! But if it was obvious enough I would get it! I’m not stupid!”
 “Well how obvious is obvious enough?!”
 “I don’t know!”
 “What about this!”
 (Y/N) was about to ask questions before Yamazaki pressed his lips onto hers firmly. His hands were wrapped around her waist tightly, her own hesitating at his hips. When he pulled away his face was beet red and his hands were quickly behind his back.
 “I’m so sorry! I should have asked first! Of course I really do like you a lot and that’s what I wanted to tell you but still, I shouldn’t have-”
 “No no it’s okay Zaki. I mean I knew you liked me but I’ll be honest I kinda figured you still had feelings for you ex.”
 “What why would you even think that?”
 “Because you care if she’s jealous of me or not. You always tend to confront her minions about what’s happening with me but never her.”
 “No, I mean maybe when I first met you, I thought it would be cool to dangle this hot exchange student in front of her. But I really like you but the more I got to know you the more I realized you have so many things she doesn’t have. You actually care about me and what I like and what I want to do! Mei cheated on me more times than I can remember. You’re so innocent and perfect.”
 (Y/N) took in her friend’s words as she stared at her feet. She could hear the sound of cicadas in the trees behind her.
 “I’m none of those things.”
 “What do you mean?”
 “I mean that what exactly do you think of as innocent? What if I have gotten around as much as people are saying. You’ve heard all the rumours.”
 “Yeah but they aren’t true.” Yamazaki said gripping the girl’s forlorn face to tilt her head up for eye contact. “They aren’t true, right?
 (Y/N)?”
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