#Edit: I came back to edit this cause I some parts were a little broken grammatically

[deadghosy]

AMONG US X GN! TEEN READER

Summary: your iPad kid sibling broke his iPad making these weird creatures pop out and they seem to love your company.

“AGGHHH!”

CRASH!

Your little shit of a sibling Noah had thrown his iPad at you after you killed in this game called “among us”. You laughed at his red face as he hits you but it doesn’t do much affect until he hits you in your gut.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!” You said yelling as Noah runs to his room sticking his tongue at you. As a door slammed again the wall you groaned against the floor holding your stomach with clenched teeth. You hoped you recovered, cause when you do. That little fucker is dead meat.

What you didn’t notice was the cracked iPad as you got up and shoulder rushed your sibling’s door.

It’s the next day as you lay in your bed watching tiktoks while eating some chips. You heard a small skitter which made you pause the edit audio coming from your phone to turn to see nothing. You narrowed your eyes thinking it’s your sibling.

“Noah, if you don’t want me to smack you. Come out now.”

You waited for a response but nothing happened. You scoffed playing the edit again until you heard a choking sound. Okay now you were kinda weirded out. You got off your bed to only step on something that made a “squeak” sound.

“WHAT THE F-”

A small among us character in yellow is squashed but pops back up brand and new. Yellow squeak at you and starts to hug your leg which made your eyes widen even more.

“GET OFF ME YOU WEIRD THING!” You start to shake your leg only for the damn thing to squeak louder and louder as other colors came out and start to squeak at you. You stopped shaking your leg watching these small things surround you as you pick yellow up who squeaks holding your hand.

“Where the bloody hell have you guys come from.” You heard a manly ass squeak looking at black who drags a iPad, the broken iPad your brother broke from yesterday. You raised a brow and pointed at it as yellow nuzzles against your face. “That’s where you guys came from?” You asked as black nods moving towards you with a waddle. He? They? She? Whatever fucking gender they are, it seemed to bow at you like if you were their god. But now you weren’t.

“Hey hey, dont bow at me dude.”

After you said that the rest of the little critters started to bow at you with small squeaks. Now you just stand there awkwardly as you scratched your neck not knowing what this is even about…..

“Listen lil guys…how about you just go back in and maybe we can call this a day” you say pointing to the iPad and picking it up.

It seems they knew what you were saying as yellow starts to cry with a squeak as he hides in your shirt making you jolt trying to get them out. “H-hey! Get out of there man!” Black and another color which is green jumps on you making you fall back in your bed.

Then everyone came in and squeaked at you! You were basically getting swarmed by these chibi shits!

“Please get off! I demand you guys get off!” As you yell this, they got off sitting in a formal line in front of you as you crossed your legs in bed

You sigh looking at them as yellow pops out of your shirt holding onto your shoulder with soft squeak as they nuzzle against you.

Guess they don’t want to go back into the iPad…

—

Reader to their little brother:

(Let me know if you want part two or not)

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 372: Gone Viral

At this point I’d watched the video, the twenty-second clip from Amelia’s Saturday-night stream that had gone absolutely viral, more times than I could count. The clip was everywhere now. My phone was broken but I still had my desktop computer, and the video player filled my screen.

MAN MAKES GIRLS GROW BY CUMMING!!!

 It still made my mouth gape, it still made my skin crawl, and as I sat in my office alone this Tuesday morning it made me deathly afraid. What the actual fuck is happening?!? What had I become involved in?!? What had been happening to my body and - what was I doing to theirs?!?

Josie’s breasts broke out of her top. 

It was a trick, had to be something with editing, or a really good animation, or something - right?!? People don’t just…grow! It was physically impossible! It broke so many fundamental laws of nature and physics and physiology. It had to be fake. Didn’t it?? And, of course, it wasn’t me that caused it. It couldn’t be!

Lakshmi’s ass ballooned. 

Someone - one of the girls, or some online perv - had obviously made this clip of Amelia’s live recording of me sitting on Melissa’s lap, on her couch, surrounded by girls in bikinis and pajamas and getting whacked off by Josie. They’d clipped it, done weird things to it, and posted it…everywhere. That was the only explanation, that it had been altered. But…no. Now that I thought about it, I remembered. Memories came flooding back. 

Katie’s feet grew and burst from her flip-flop sandals. 

And what was happening with Josie’s hair?!?

And Melissa…Melissa looked enormous!

Oh my god!!

As I relived it again - the first time, in fact, back in the breakroom after a few bites of that terrible scone this morning - the memories started to get clearer. The girls had grown, all around me, my female staff had burgeoned and swelled. They surrounded me pressing around into me on Saturday night right after my handjob in Josie’s grip. And, though it didn’t make it onto the clip’s audio, I now remembered Randi’s whispered voice in my ear: “Get ready little man, your girls are going to eat you alive.”

Again: Oh my god!!

Three million views! More! More than three million views this thing had already, just on GirlToob (this popular, rapidly growing new video platform filled with content “for a female audience”) and it was posted only two days ago! I watched it again, looping. 

There I was, naked as day (certain parts of my anatomy were pixelated out for modesty on some sites, like this one, but I was full Monty on many of the re-uploads) and spasming in climax like a rag doll. And then, as the camera left me and scanned the surrounding women all suddenly consumed in ecstasy, the growth began. Josie’s top, Lakshmi’s bottom, and Katie’s feet, they all got bigger. And, by god, they all got taller too, right after I’d obviously climaxed Yes, it was subtle, and maybe a trick, but the fact remained: I was now internet famous for making girls grow. 

Can one actually die from humiliation? Is there an ICD-13 code for End-Stage Shame? Because I had a terminal case of mortification that was currently making my blood ice water and I felt like I should just go hide under a rock for oh…I don't know…the next decade or so. 

I watched the loop again, still in stunned silence staring into my future and feeling the world close in all around me. Though I tried my best to deny it as trickery, part of me knew this was no joke. It was as if I’d realized this all before, sitting there that Saturday night, but only now had it actually become real. And it was very, very public. Had I been mad at Amelia for streaming this, on Saturday night? I don’t think I was. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know it was happening at the time, but when the girls showed me the video early this morning I kind of freaked out a bit. They all just laughed as they watched my reaction.. 

“Aww! Don’t be so dramatic,” one of them had said. 

“It’s all good,” said another. 

“People love you,” they tried to tell me. 

“Here, look at these comments, there’s hundreds of them,” I was told, “one girl calls you a hunk!”

“Or this one: ‘He’s every girl’s dream’.”

‘I want to hug him like a teddy bear.’

I want to eat him for breakfast. 

Can I be next haha??

Though most of the commenters were women, men had chimed in too: ‘ugh the dude is supersimp’ and ‘fuck yes make them all biggger u fuck’ or ‘STOP JUST WATCHNG WE NEED TO STIP THIS’

GOOD LORD!! I was, suddenly, a pariah, a savior, an object of lust and envy all at once. Millions of people had seen this! My heart thrump-thummed in my chest as my skin prickled with ignominy and the anxiety that was coming on like a horde of locusts. It was eating everything! Did I need to go to the authorities? Did I need to go to the hospital to find out what was wrong with me? Or did I just need to commit myself to the psych ward and be done with it? 

I needed t-

A knock at my door.

“Dr J?” came Aubrey’s voice, followed by Aubrey herself. Goddamnit even in my discomfit, my soul-panic, my eyes went to her tits. Jesus, her chest. Holy Christ her figure. This is Aubrey?!? Little Aubrey?!? She’d been six inches shorter - easily! - three months ago. If somehow I was responsible for all these changes to all these girls -  What have I done to her?!? She stepped in, closing the door to my office behind her, wearing a sensible - if overmatched - blue blouse, a mid-length skirt, and a look of concern. She was also carrying my ‘World’s Best Boss’ mug. 

“H-hey Aubrey, c-C-ome in,” I greeted her, hearing my voice crack again. It had been doing that more and more recently, especially in times of stress. I sounded like a pre-teen. I glanced at the white mug, which after a contrite thanks she offered to me. I hesitated. I remembered the cup the girls had poured me earlier; I hadn’t been able to stomach even a sip. “Is that my coffee?”

“No,” she said, a funny shiver to her voice, “I…I know you haven’t been drinking coffee, so…so I brought you this.”

I didn’t even notice her eyes watching me, studying my face as I accepted the mug and took a look at its contents. Jesus the mug felt heavy to me. And inside -  milk, of course it was milk. Melissa had been insistent we keep a gallon of both 2% and whole in the breakroom fridge now, in case I ever got thirsty, or hungry. It was - I had to admit - the easiest thing on my stomach these days. I was more than a little self-conscious that I’d become a milk-drinker and blushed a little here in front of Aubrey. The smell, though, cut through my perturbation. Wow, I guess I’m really craving this. It made sense: I hadn’t eaten much at all this morning. 

Aubrey continued to watch as I brought the mug to my lips and took a sip. Wow. It was delicious. Creamy, sweet, earthy. Maybe this is a new brand? And…

“You warmed it up?” I asked. It was warm, perfect. Like body temperature. 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Aubrey answered, still sounding slightly nervous as she bit her lip, “in the, um, microwave? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I answered, taking another sip, and then another. It caressed my mouth, slipped down my throat and immediately went to work filling my body with warmth and a new sense of something good, familiar. Holy crap this is great. I fought the urge to just gulp it down. “Thank you so much, Aubrey.” There was something different in my voice. I sounded calmer. 

“You’re welcome,” she answered. 

This, of course dear readers, was Katarina’s breastmilk. I didn’t know that at the time though, and somehow, in that moment I didn’t put the memory together, or recognize the taste. Again, my abilities to avoid the truth were Olympian. I’d drank of it over the weekend and this was the same thing, but goddammit as I sat at my desk my mind was if nothing else a fortress of denial. Subconsciously I refused to acknowledge it - but  I was drinking breastmilk.  

I looked up at Aubrey and instead of seeing a woman complicit in a plot to overthrow my authority here at the office, physically infantilize me into a cretin, and help herald in a new age of overwhelming female power, my eyes saw someone else. I saw a girl who cared about me, an employee who wanted my day to go well, and a budding friend. A daughter-figure in some respects, a cool younger protege in others. 

Christ I was so deluded!!!

But, no. Aubrey - all the girls, really - was all these things. Our little story here, if you haven’t figured it out by this point, is complicated. Good guys, bad guys, heroes and villains? It was all too convoluted for labels. What was I, for that matter? A culpable anti-hero working against my gender? A victim, a helpless simp? Was I the lead actor in a comedy, tragedy or reality-show from the most fucked-up universe ever? I don’t goddamn know, even now. But the fact of the matter is, at that moment in time - gazing up at Aubrey with my “World’s Best Boss” mug in my hand and my medical-records clerk’s breastmilk worming its way into me - I felt great. 

“What are you watching?” Aubrey asked, noticing that my screen was on, video player playing, looping. 

“Oh, yeah, this,” I said, taking another sip of warm, delicious  milk and turning the monitor towards her, “this is great. Wanna watch..?”

====================================

mucho thanks to RiF for editing and guidance

[ts19009]

Hong's Anatomy: Part 5

Pediatrician surgeon!  Joshua x pediatric surgeon!  Female Reader 

Synopsis: Coming to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital wasn’t on your bucket list, that’s for sure, but when you meet the head of your department, Joshua Hong, it's one of the only things that constantly brightens your day. 

Warnings: swearing, made up medical terms and procedures, i have no idea if any of this is medically accurate it’s just for story, flirting, no smut…yet?

Words: 3.2k

NOT EDITED, SO I MAY GO BACK AND EDIT LATER (teehee)

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You hated working in the pit. It was always hectic and a little too unorganized for your taste, but when a natural disaster hits, everyone is called down to the pit and unfortunately a tornado had just hit Seattle and being a level 1 trauma center that meant people were normally sent to Seattle Grace first. 

“Hannah Pitter, seventeen years old. Was found under a big piece of rubble. Three broken ribs, broken shoulder, right arm, and a major concussion.” Heesung said, wheeling in the crying seventeen year old girl. 

“I’ll take her,” Joshua said, quickly placing a hand on your shoulder. You nodded and went to the next EMT. 

“Amanda Journey, Five years old, Dislocated shoulder and it looks like she has some burns from the fire.” 

“Where are her parents?” You asked, wheeling her into a curtained space. 

“I don’t know. There were thousands of people there, we tried to ask her to see if she recognized anybody, but she said that she didn’t,” Niki responded. This was not good. A five year old without their parents meant that treatment would be very restricted if anything went bad. 

“Well what happens if I have to do surgery on her and we don’t have her parent’s consent?” 

“You have to ask the Chief!” Niki shrugged, “I gotta get back there. Tell me how she turns out?” You nodded and started to get to work. The poor girl’s shoulder was sticking out and she was crying for both her mom and the amount of pain she was in. 

“Hi sweetie. I’m Doctor. L/N, I need you to sit really still for me, okay?” You smiled, while putting on a pair of gloved, getting ready to pop her shoulder back in place. You quickly grabbed a lollipop out of a drawer (the secret stash you put in there) and held it out to her. “If you’re really good after I help you, you can have another one, okay?” Amanda nodded and took the candy from you. 

“Okay ready? One.. Two.. Three..” You counted, before quickly popping her shoulder back in place. Amanda let out a little cry but you could tell that she was already starting to feel a lot better. “Good job Amanda! Thank you so much for being so good! I’m gonna get someone else in here to help you with the burns on your tummy and face now, but I’ll stay with you the entire time!” You reassured her. Jeonghan had been running around the pit the whole day and his hair was looking slightly chaotic, but he still had a big smile when talking to the five year old. 

“Hi, I’m Doctor Yoon,” Jeonghan smiled, “oh no, those look ouchy. Will you let me look at them?” 

Amanda cried and looked at you to almost ask for permission. You nodded and reached out for her to hold your hand. “Okay.”

Jeonghan smiled, “thank you Amanda. I’m gonna lift your shirt up a little and look at your tummy burns.” Amanda’s whole torso was practically melted off, and jus one look at the poor girls burns almos caused you to wince. As soon as Jeonghan saw her burns he started ordering off commands to the nurses to get some cold rags and to put in an order to the burn team. Poor Amanda would be here for a long time. As he nurses came in with cold rags, you knew his part was going to hurt so you went and grabbed a hold of Amanda’s hand while Jeonghan carefully and slowly put a few rags on the remaining skin she had left.

As soon as he rags came into contact with her skin she let out a blood curtling scream and really squeezed your hand. 

“Mandy!” An olderr old boy came running into the room, “oh my god. I’m Travis, her older brother. What happened to her?” 

“She got caught in the fire and has some prey antsy burns along with a dislocated shoulder. Would you like o hold ehr ahdn while we treat her?” You asked, as the young boy gulped, but nodded. He couldn’ be older than fifteen, where were their parents? Neither you or Jeonghan alked much as you worked on treating her burns and Vernon popped in put her shoulder back in place. 

“Our parents went across the street to go to the store for ten minutes and his happens,” Travis sobs, “do you know where they are?” Both you and Jeonghan looked at each other, a little surprised at his sudden outburst. 

“We haven’t heard anything about them yet, but I’ll ask around okay?” You treid to reassure, Travis nodded and wiped a few of his tears away .

♥♥♥♥

“Good news, Travis and Abigail’s parent’s are at Seattle Med. They don’t have any serious injuries, so they’ll be transported here,” Jeonghan smiled, hanging up the phone. 

“That’s a relief,” you sighed, “I hate seeing family’s seperated espically when it’s just the kids by themselves.” It was already about seven in the evening, so six hours into your shift and you haven’t seen Joshua since the first encounter in the pit. “Joshua’s been working late for this whole weekend. I feel like the only time I see him is the brief run ins.”

“Seungcheol asked him to pick up a few more surgeriues during the week because we lost Sana,” Jeonghan said, reminding you of the resident peds surgeon who transferred hospitals a couple weeks ago. “He’s having a hard time finding a replacement.” 

“I totally forgot about Sana leaving, man. Why are hey dropping like flies?” You asked, referring to the loss of San from Plastic’s, Jeongchan from OB, and Vivian from Ortho.

“New York just opened a new hospital and hey’re offering twice the pay, and a guaranteed sending position when they finish,” Joshua said, walking up beside you with a exhausted look on his face. “I don’t blame them for taking the offer, it’s just frustrating.” 

You nodded and wrapped an arm around his neck as he gave you a little side hug. 

“‘I’m done in twenty minutes, so I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee?” Joshua smiled, gesturing to Jeonghan as he nodded, “and you as well for date night?” 

“I expect you there at four, gotcha?” You nod, pressing a quick peck to his lips as he nodded this time. “Be safe!” You smiled as Joshua skipped his way to his office o grab his stuff and turned around to face Jeonghan. “Thank you for still walking with him. He was scared that you would hate him.” 

“I told you before, this isn’t the first time we’ve went for the same girl,” he chuckled, “There was this one girl back in highschool. Her name was Sophie, and both Josh and I were head over heels in love with her. She wasn’t a good person and strung boh of us along for our entire senior year, but at the end she ended up choosing me. Josh didn’t take that one very well, in fact, that was the most upset I’ve ever seen him. I only saw him once, only for him o cuss me out and then he went MIA the whole summer. We were roommates for college, so he had to turn up and talk to me eventually, but we overcame it. So I always remind myself, that if Shua overcame losing his first love, I can overcome losing you.” 

You blushed at his last confession, but shook it off pretty well, “Josh has bever mentioned a Sofie before?” 

“She wasn’t particularly amazing, she as just our friend all throughou highschool. It was us three in the science lab for lunch everyday for four years studying our anatomy. Sophie ended up becoming a surgeon in Berlin, so we all had that one common interest I suppose,” he chuckled again, “don’t take it personally that Shua hasn’t told you about her.”

“What happened to Sophie?” You asked, as you both approached he lunch room. 

“We dated for five years, engaged for two. I found out abou wo weeks before our wedding that she was cheating on me with our college professor,” he admitted, “you were one of the first people I’ve seriously thought about since Sophie.” 

“Well I’m honored,” you said, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Thanks for being honest and vulnerable with me.”

Even though Jeonghan said not to take it personally that Joshua hasn’t mentioned his past partners and almost partners, it’s all you could think about. 

♥♥♥♥

“Have I told you that I’ve only ever had one boyfriend?” You said, watching Joshua from across the room, he looked up from cutting up some celery for dinner. “We met in senior year of highschool and dated for almost five years before we ended up breaking up. I found out two weeks before that he was going to move half way across the world and hadn’t even considered asking me to come with him.”

Joshua came and sat next to you, prompting you to continue. “He told me that I never would of come because of my residency, but I knew that he just wanted an out. It was messy and a lot words were said. I haven’t seen him since.” 

Joshua took a deep breath, it looked like he was contemplating talking. Sharing his story, but he didn’t. 

You were disappointed, and hurt that he wouldn’t tell you about Sophie, but you weren’t going to push it out of him. 

“Why haven’t you gone on any more partners since him?” Joshua asked, holding your hand. 

“I’ve been on dates with others, but none of them understood the emotional baggage that I’ve happen at work. The longest time I’ve ‘seen’ a person is three dates, but then he told me that I was too messed up,” you chuckled, “as have most of the rest. They said it nicer of course.” 

“I’m sorry,” he empathasized, “no one should ever be treated like that.” You smiled and let him press a few kisses on your hand. “One second,” he quickly said, running to the oven to check the casserole. 

The tension in the room was a little thick, but Joshua came back and took a deep breather before speaking, “my first year of being an being an attending, I was in LA for a year, I was really focused on work and everything, but there was a nurse named Larissa, she asked me on a date. I only went on one date with her. A month after Larissa, I went on a date with a girl I met online, it only lasted three weeks, and then a few months later I dated a girl named Jaehun for a little over four months.” 

He still wasn’t talking about Sophie, well technically he never dated her, but he was in love with her. 

Dinner tasted really good, but it was pretty silent. After dinner, you and Joshua were on the couch watching television, when he paused the t.v. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” you lied, but Joshua could tell something else was off.

“Did I do something wrong?” You sighed, and turned to face him. 

“No Joshua, I’m just tired,” you hissed. Joshua sighed, but nodded and started the t.v again, not wanting to either upset you or push you further. After the night had ended and you were starting up put your coat and shoes on is when he said something again. 

“Did Jeonghan tell you about Sophie?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe. You looked up at him, surprised that he figured out what was bothering you. 

“He did yeah,” you sighed, putting your hands in your pockets, “he told me that you were in love with her throughout all of highschool. How do you think it feels to find out about your boyfriends first love through his best friend?” 

“What about you? You just told me about your boyfriend? And I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to tell you about something that put me in such an awful spot in my life. Hell it still does,”  he spat. 

“At least I told you about him, you didn’t have to hear it from someone else, and why can’t you talk about it now Joshua? Are you still not over her? Do you still love her? It’s been ten years, you would think you’d be over her?” You cried, shaking your head and wrapping your hands around yourself. Joshua just scoffed and pushed himself off the door. 

“I’m not talking about this with you right now,” he sighed. 

“No, we’re adults in a relationship. Let’s talk about this,” you scoffed. 

“No, because if we talk about this I’m going to say something I regret and I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he said, opening the door for you. 

“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, looking up at him in disbelief. Joshua didn’t look you in your eyes as you scoffed again and stomped out of his apartment. 

-----

“What do you mean you can’t come in today?” Joshua asked over the phone, “you were fine last night and we have two major surgeries today?” 

“I’m taking a personal day,” you sighed, annoyed that Seungcheol made you talk to Joshua instead of just giving you the day off. 

“Y/N,” Joshua warned, “is this about our fight last night?” 

“Can I have the day or not Joshua?” 

Joshua sighed, but reluctantly agreed. “See you tomorrow then.” As soon as you hung up the phone Joshua sighed, and pulled out his tablet, trying to rearrange the day to fit your surgeries in. 

“Where’ Y/N?” Jeonghan asked, patting Joshua on the back. 

“She’s taking a personal day,” he said, not looking up from his tablet. Jeonghan scoffed. 

“Date night didn’t go as planned?” The lack of response was enough for him to wince. “Yikes, I’m sorry Shua.” 

“Why did you tell her about Sophie?” Joshua scoffed, “that wasn’t you place to tell her.” 

“I didn’t mean for you guys to get into a fight about it,” Jeonghan defended, “but she should of known.”

“What did you think was going to happen Han?” Joshua said, finally looking up from his tablet. “I know that you didn’t mean any harm, but it was none of your business to tell her and you need to stay out of our relationship.” 

“Shua…” Jeonghan tried to say, but Joshua put his tablet down and walked away to check in on his first patient. 

“Simone Hallwer, eleven years old. Her mother brought her in because she kept fainting and started to develop a lump on her forehead,” Amelia, Joshua’s other intern, explained, as Joshua smiled and sat next to her. “She was brought in two days ago and she has a brain tumor. We’re going to go in today and try and remove the tumor.” 

Joshua smiled and nodded, “how did you sleep last night Simone?” 

Simone smiled, but hid her face into her blanket, clearly she was very shy around Joshua. Amelia told Joshua that she thinks Simone has a crush on Joshua. 

“She slept right through the night perfectly, right Simone?” Her mother chuckled, as Simone nodded. “When is she scheduled for surgery Doctor Hong?” 

“She’s next in line, so give or take fourty minutes to an hour,” Joshua smiled, “so we’ll come to take her soon.” Simone’s mom smiled and thanked him before Joshua left. Wonwoo would be in the operating room to also perform the surgery, but Neruosurgery was always his least favorite operation. 

By the time that Simone was in the operating room, Joshua was on edge. 

“Are you okay dude?” Wonwoo asked, breaking Joshua out of his mind. 

“Uh, yeah, why?” 

“You’ve been washing your hands for seven minutes and I’ve been trying to talk to you for five of those minutes,” Wonwoo chuckled, “if you’re not in the right headspace, maybe you should step out?” 

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. I love you man, but I hate doing Neurosurgeries,” Joshua said, finally turning off the tap. 

“Okay, but if it happens again, I’ll have to kick you out,” Wonwoo warned, Joshua nodded in agreement. He was aware of the protocols, but he really wanted to be there for Simone. 

As soon as they both entered, they got started immediately. Joshua made a small incision in the skin and a small opening in the skull then the navigation, operated by Wonwoo, moved the tubular retractor gently though the white matter of the brain to gain access to the tumor. Joshua took over from Wonwoo to make sure that they retractor would hold the area open, while Wonwoo started cutting the tumor off. 

“Suction!” Wonwoo said, as the monitors starting going off a bit more. “Joshua! I need your help here! Marley, you stary with the retractors.” Joshua nodded, and let Wonwoo’s intern take over the machiene as he stepped beside Wonwoo too see a massive brain bleed. 

“Where is it?” Joshua asked, looking frantically for the cause of the bleed. 

“Right below the cut, you need to cut by the occipital lobe,” Joshua nodded, and got the drill from the table and felt around for a second and located the bleed. 

“Drilling now!” He said, letting out a wince when the drill started to whirl. As soon as he had made it past the bone, he stopped and shined a light down. “Lap pads!” 

Rose quickly handed him some lap pads for him to clean up the fluids leaking out of the skill. 

“Shit, it’s not working,” Wonwoo said, looking around and trying to figure out what else he could do. Joshua stepped back, getting pretty overwhelmed and watched Wonwoo try to save Simone’s brain, but by the time that he had come back to earth, it was too late. 

“Time of death, 8:48.” Wonwoo said, throwing his head back in frustration. “What the hell Joshua?” 

“What?” Joshua asked, taken aback with Wonwoo’s tone. 

“You didn’t drill the hole in the right place, you caused another brain bleed. You were distracted and drilled a hole into this poor girls head when you didn’t need to,” he said, pointing to Simone. “You get to go tell her mother that she’s gone,” Wonwoo spat, walking out of the OR. 

Great another thing to add to Joshua’s day. 

----

“I’m so sorry,” Joshua apologized to Simone’s mother, as she started crying. “If there is anything we can do to help please let us know.” 

“This is your fault!” Simone’s mother spat, wiping her tears with one hand and pointing a finger at Joshua with the other. “You were supposed to save her, you said that we shouldn’t do chemo and that this would be safer!” 

“Ma’am,” One of the female nurses cooed, coming up to try and calm her down. 

“No, my baby is gone because of this idiot Doctor!” She cried as Joshua, just winced and nodded his head. He had gone through this, unfortunately, hundred of times. 

“If you would like to talk to some counclors, we have programs right here at the hospital…” he said, but was cut off. 

“No, I don’t want councelling. I want you gone from this hospital! I will be talking to my lawyers!” She spat one last time before leaving the waiting room. Joshua sighed and threw his head back. This was always the worst part of the job, no matter what reaction the parents/caregivers have. 

And the worst part was, this was only his first surgery of the day. 

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taglist: @asasilentreader , @myjaeyunn, @gaslysainz @itsnotjop @vixensss

A/N: Hey yall, sorry for taking so long for this update. I had a little bit of a writers block/life got really busy for me. But I finally had a little bit of a break, so I sat down and cranked out this chapter in a day and a half. We're building up the angst, because I have big plans for the happy couple, so sit tight and thank you so much for reading and leaving all the sweet comments/reblogs! Love you!

TS19009

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁*𝐓𝐂𝐇 ; 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐁𝐒, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

summary: y/n tries to blend into the group, meanwhile it’s harder then she thought. on the other hand, memories are getting back to her.

wordcount: 3.328k

tw: swearing, y/n is a little bit bitchy (again but not that pick-me style), finally some action, flashbacks about parents (i won’t tell you what’s my purpose with this hahahahah), crime. some heartwarming fluff (i won’t spoiler, read it girlie)

author's note: it’s half 1am, edited this on phone. sorry for not writing, i had a job interview, yaaay!!

part 1 part 2 playlist!!

“so, what do you think about hyeon-ju and the plan?” woo-jin asked as they sat at the table.

“she seems cool. but a little bit antsy. i’m not familiar with personal questions at job interviews.”

“why, what were your interview questions?” woo-jin asked, as gun-woo handled the meat.

y/n snickered.

“my boss just looked at my cv, i had enough experience. i’m working at a bar, i’m a so-called little boss. nevertheless, my wage does not show this” y/n huffed a little, getting a message. looking at it, she chuckled. “oh, speak of the devil, it's him! asshole.” she murmured as she put away the phone.

“won’t you gonna answer it?” gun-woo asked. y/n shook her head.

“no, he probably bothered me with some easy-peasy tasks. i swear if i wouldn’t be there, he couldn't even sign or read a paper about procurements!”

“at a bar? what is the name?” woo-jin asked.

“pink panda. close to the station, but not too close for drunk people to get home.” y/n replied. gun-woo’s chest tightened a little bit; if woo-jin and y/n get to talk about this, he’s gonna feel… like an outsider.

“i know that place! me and my friends got to drink there a lot, but i never saw you.”

“probably you were just too drunk.”

at y/n’s words, the three laughed. “working in a bar is cool, even if we close at 10pm because of covid. a lot of people came and went from where i work because the management didn’t have the money to pay them. only mine and some co-workers’ salaries haven't been shortened; everybody else's has varied through time.”

“that’s shit… i used to teach gym classes to kindergartners at my friend’s school, a gym teacher of some sort. but since then it was shut, i’ve been a bit of a bind.”

“well, don’t worry about it,” said y/n, as she chewed on the meat that gun-woo served them. “that probably didn't suit you anyway.”

“you think so too?” gun-woo laughed. y/n smiled and nodded.

“you two can go and damn yourselves, kids fucking love me!” woo-jin protested. “but i suppose, with drunk people it’s a little bit more difficult.”

“don’t even begin, please,” y/n shrugged, “i can handle them. lot of people try to suffocate their depression and unsuccessfulness into alcohol, but only the bartenders see how broken they are. probably, you wouldn’t sober in a bar, especially at night, that’s why you don’t care about other people, but workers, like me can see everything. i have had to gain a lot of nerves ever since i started working at pink panda. with covid, happy parties and celebrations started to decrease, and more and more working, depressed men and women had come to us. i couldn’t think that i’d have a sore heart anytime when it comes to closing time. shit, some people’s state is seriously a cause of concern.”

“that’s really depressing. see, now you made a bad vibe! how can i happily eat this meat if you say these kinds of things? aish, y/n, i just wanted to ask if you can make some good drinks, and now we are here, like in some death row.” woo-jin tsked, y/n furrowed her eyebrows.

“oh, well, then sorry to tell you that! i can’t recommend these people to go to a psychiatrist anyway.” she murmured.

“why not?” gun-woo asked, and then y/n looked at him through the fog of the frying pan.

“because i have to work somewhere too, and i’m too dumb for a major in psychology.”

the three laughed.

“true, true. now then y/n, what kind of drinks can you make?” woo-jin asked, tucking some kim-chi in his mouth.

“anything you want. why, you want to get drunk?”

“no, i’m just saying that if our mission goes well, maybe you could practice with us. i like cocktails with whiskey, and tequila!” woo-jin suggested.

“whiskey? you seem like a vodka-type of guy.” y/n responded. gun-woo listened to the two, and somehow felt ashamed for not drinking as his best friend.

“and what do you think, what do gun-woo drinks?” woo-jin asked, nudging gun-woo with his shoulder. y/n tilted her head, like she was guessing. gun-woo hoped the blush didn’t creep up to his cheeks, like he felt the embarrassment filled his veins.

“i don’t know… maybe he doesn't drink? he doesn’t have sunken eyes like you.”

“sunken eyes? i do not have sunken eyes!” woo-jin huffed. “and what do you drink, y/n?”

“maybe it’s gonna surprise you, but i don’t drink that often. i have to say that i only drink on special occasions. but, a good gin or some fine cocktails are always a prize for my liver. seeing other people’s misery everyday, somehow takes away the mood from alcohol.”

gun-woo tried not to let the flashbacks kick in, as he thought about his dad. he imagined, what if y/n still serves his father in pink panda but she doesn’t know that it’s his father.

“if i could make a decent cocktail, i’d make drinks everyday. everytime! when i was in the marine, me and my comrades had to drink shit soju or whiskey, or rum with cola. it was terrible!” woo-jin shivered, probably from the memory of the taste of it.

“cola and rum could be cuba libre, but judging by the marine, i would say that yeah, it was really just some shitty alcohol-juice. talking about marine, gun-woo, are you an ex-marine too?”

woo-jin grinned, clinging to gun-woo. “believe it or not, but gun-woo was the best part of the marine! he was elite! scouts! cool, huh?”

y/n smiled, looking at gun-woo.

“didn’t know you were this cool.”

if gun-woo’s heart wasn't already beating fast in his chest, y/n’s words and the confident smile on her lips guaranteed to cause him an almost-tachycardia. how could she be so cool and so cute at the same time?

“i… i don’t like to boast about it. being a marine gave me such good things as patience, tolerance, and stamina. maybe that’s how i could begin boxing, without these things, i could have maybe given up.” gun-woo said shyly, y/n clinked her chopsticks with his.

“if you have nothing else, you can say these things with confidence, you know? my father was also a scout at the marine, and he wa… is the best man i’ve ever knew. look at me, i don’t even have any experience from the military, i’m only a girl who works in a shitty bar with shitty people.”

“but you can mix cool drinks! cocktails!” woo-jin protested, making y/n shrug her shoulders.

“and you can fight in many martial arts!” gun-woo added. “can is ask… something personal?”

y/n leaned back, furrowing her eyebrows in a funny way, but her expression was calm and absentminded.

“we aren’t at the interview now. and you two seem to peel every skin off of me. so, go on! ask me.”

gun-woo curled his fingers a little bit.

“why do you know this much about martial arts? i don’t want to insult you, but girls your age… aren’t so interested in these. did something happen… or…” he didn’t know how to continue it. y/n nodded, pushing away the plate from herself a little bit, like if she needed some place.

“it’s a family tradition. before yeongsan, we also lived in the outskirts of seoul. some places are really dangerous, we lived in a building estate, but crime like rape and theft was common everyday. my father knew that if i don’t learn how to look out for myself, i can be a victim easily. in the beginning, i hated training and boxing, and that my father beat me up with the sons of his friends. i hated running in the morning, i hated doing push-ups and practicing the movements… but after that, when i was like eight or nine, i don’t remember, my mother got harassed when was coming home at night. seeing her sad, crying and sitting with her at the police station… broke something in me. “y/n snuggled in her seat, looking down at the plate. “i hated the place we were living at, i hated every person on the street, i saw everyone of them as the attacker of my mother. i used that hate to gain my strength, everyday. i ran everyday to get away from the men who wanted to harass me, i fought the guys in my father’s gym to beat the guys who picked on me at school. and i… i made a promise every day.”

“promise of what?” woo-jin’s voice was like an axe that broke the ice. y/n looked up at him.

“that nobody can beat me. that i’ll fight, cut or run out from every dangerous situation. and everybody that hurts my family or my loved ones, that means that they hurt me.” y/n answered.

“you are so brave”, gun-woo said, from instinct. it didn't matter if the girl’s mother, sister, friend or whoever got hurt… it mattered that they had the same cause to get strong. to protect. and those people who train and fight for other people’s protection, that meant that they never used it for bad.

“what? i’m not!” the girl shook her head. “i’m just strong. it’s really bad to say, but if mother doesn’t get harassed… maybe i never learn that there’s actual danger in the world. or i learn, but too late, when i can't do anything about it.” y/n protested.

“you are cool, y/n. i mean, you dont look like you could beat a guy. or, in other meaning, any guy.” woo-jin added, getting her huffing.

“just because i don’t have big muscles like you, that doesn’t mean i can’t beat others! okay, people who are built like mountains are the exception, but i still can run.”

gun-woo thought about in-beom, and how the man beat him, even if gun-woo was really strong. he imagined that what if y/n was in front of in-beom… only thinking about made his stomach churn. he’ll never let y/n meet in-beom, and never will let him hurt her.

“did you run from situations?”

“sure. i don’t fight if it’s already hopeless. but it was only two or three times, when i was little. it’s also important to measure your chances and possibilities if you don’t want to die.”

“wise words. but now, let’s eat!” woo-jin ended the conversation by getting a bite from the meat.

after lunch, the three were getting back to the bookstore. gun-woo walked beside y/n.

“you were right, when you said that thing about chances, and possibilities. maybe… i should have run too, or gotten myself and my mother safe.”

“i think if you ran from smile capital, they could have found you again, and again. i don’t know if you did the right thing, but let’s say that you didn't have any other choice. and if someone's life is at stake, then… you feel that you gotta give in everything, if their life matters to you.” y/n replied.

“did you… find your mother’s aggressors?” gun-woo asked. y/n looked at him, nodding.

“yeah. i… i wanted to kill them. my own desire to kill scared me too, i was only twelve! but in the end, i thought i couldn't bear the weight of killing three people. i rather beat them up, and called the police that they tried to assault me. i told the policemen that it was self-defense, when it came to their wounds. i guess they’re still in prison, but i’m not sure if i could recognize them again.”

“did you hurt other people too? for vengeance?” gun-woo asked, the girl shook her head.

“not that hard. just frightened away some boys who disturbed me in school. after school, i never wanted to go to university. i don't have instagram or any social platform, i don’t want other people to see my face on the internet. even that’s a miracle that you found me.”

“you father is sir choi’s friend. i think that sir choi thought about you. did something happen to your father?” at gun-woo’s question, y/n shook her head, stopped walking.

“can you… just please, don’t fuss about my father? i know that you don’t ask me because you want to tease me, but…” y/n stepped closer to gun-woo, looking into his eyes. gun-woo didn't see tears, but something much more frightening: sadness, the type of sadness that washes over any other feeling. suffering from memories, from something that you can’t change. her lips tightened, like she tried to keep something inside, eyebrows furrowing, but in the painful way. “...it’s more horrible than you can imagine. everytime i want to talk about it, it’s… like i see everything in front of myself again.”

gun-woo nodded, his expression hardened.

“did the president of smile capital do that?”

for a couple of seconds, y/n’s face was still. she wasn’t even blinking, but then, a nod, soft as a breath came from her. gun-woo patted her shoulder, looked into y/n’s eyes again. they were shining from something he couldn't name. she focused on every word that came out from his mouth.

“we’ll catch yang jae-myeong tonight. you don’t have to worry about those memories anymore.”

[ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 ]

the sky was dark as hyeon-ju’s car rode through the empty streets of seoul. they followed the car that supposedly drove yang jae-myeong and his gang to steal IDs in the dark of the night. y/n tried to follow the car with her eyes, but hyeon-ju then threw a cap to her to cover her hair, the mask was already covering the lower side of her face. woo-jin and gun-woo sat in the back, y/n on the passenger's seat beside hyeon-ju.

“so you know the plan, right?” hyeon-ju asked, as y/n tried to tuck all her hair under the cap. it was impossible, she had longer hair and the cap would slide off with every slight movement.

“do i really need to wear this shit?” she whimpered as she looked constantly in the little picture of the rear-view mirror. hyeon-ju didn’t even look at her as she kept driving.

“you have unusual hair, y/n. what do you think, would it be ten or fifteen minutes to find you on the streets? smile capital has people everywhere!”

“okay, chill. geez…” the other girl murmured, in the little mirror, she saw gun-woo’s eyes. y/n made an ‘is hyeon-ju seriously this crazy and antsy?’-look. gun-woo snickered, his eyes crinkled and y/n knew he wanted to laugh.

hyeon-ju suddenly stopped; woo-jin almost knocked his head into the seat in front of him.

“ow! are we here?” he asked, hyeon-ju turned back.

“get out. and don’t fuck up the plan, remember?”

“yes!” the three answered in a choir, climbing out from the car. y/n pulled her jacket over her body tighter, in the middle of the night, it was colder than a couple hours earlier. but it was january, so she didn’t complain. in the outskirts of the city where she lived before she had to move on, winters were more cruel. her mother always filled the heating pad she used for menstrual cramps, took it under the blankets so y/n didn’t freeze at night –but several times, when her father didn’t come home, only at sunrise, she slept with her mother. although the cold was almost breaking her bones, she found a calmness that she couldn’t find anywhere else. not in the warmest room, not when she was sitting in her bathtub on her own rent.

“there he is” woo-jin muttered, shaking y/n out of her memories. it’s no time for reverie, it’s time for action. they sneaked down on the stairs where the gang was going down, as quiet as they could. gun-woo looked at y/n, nodding reassuringly. y/n nodded back, trying to hear what they said, but they were too far to get to know anything.

“we need to go closer” y/n whispered to gun-woo, who nodded.

“i know.” he answered. “maybe we…” but then, woo-jin ran forward, hiding behind another pillar under the arcades. gun-woo tried to sing to him, but the other was singing constantly, “stop singing to me! we’re gonna get caught!”. woo-jin accidentally knocked down a box. the thud was so silent, and yet so loud. y/n didn't have to see that yang jae-myeong and his gang suspected something.

“oi, is there someone?” the air froze. y/n’s heartbeat began to overcome her breath, she looked at gun-woo. they communicated with their eyes.

we're gonna get caught. we fucked up!

don’t worry.

they heard footsteps. y/n closed her eyes, the leap seconds seemed to be hours, and the footsteps were like ticking bombs. she tried to disappear just thinking about it, but opened her eyes when she felt something… something with her hand. it was warm, and had a little grip on it, but so gentle that only the warmness was constant. y/n slowly looked down.

gun-woo held her hand in his. y/n barely held hands with anyone she knew, but with him, it was so natural. like he always used to touch her. she didn’t try to shake it down, maybe it was from the adrenaline, but more because of the comfort. it somehow calmed her down, but only for a second, when she heard footsteps again. she didn’t knew how far the bad guys were, and it confused and frightened her. he didn’t see yang jae-myeong ever, was he a mountain? or the best fighter in the town? he surely had a knife, she could handle it, but his gang… were they not enough for them? all these questions got the worst out from her. that’s it, we’re fucked.

no, we’re not.

gun-woo slowly lifted up his other arm, putting his pointing finger in front of his mouth, be quiet. y/n nodded, but when the footsteps were like the closest, she waited for that yang jae-myeong guy to pop up beside gun-woo’s head. now she was the one who held a tight grip on gun-woo’s hand. she didn’t dare to close her eyes. she could almost hear gun-woo’s breath and heartbeat.

“come on man, there’s nobody! you’re just drunk, fucker.” another guy said. y/n tried not to breathe out so loudly. the footsteps faded, y/n tried to count it. by ten footsteps, maybe they were distant enough and had turned down in the arcades. woo.jin looked at them, y/n bend over gun-woo, giving him a ‘i’ll blind you with your own fingers’-look. gun-woo, slower than a sloth, began to peek out. he turned back as fast as lightning, giving y/n a little heart attack again. he nodded. it’s clear.

y/n nodded back. then, go!

sneaking on the only possible way down, they heard as yang jae-myeong began to bewitch his next victim. he got the homeless man, got his ID. y/n’s anger boiled, but he couldn’t do anything. they sacrificed the smaller bad on the altair of the bigger good. it reminded her of when her mother played ‘what do you see? i see a…’ game with her, to get her away from thieves and homeless people.

yang jae-myeong wasn’t that lucky with the second one. as much as y/n could hear, he stole the ID from him. idiot, how could he not remember? he only had one job! y/n rolled her eyes, but when gun-woo shook her shoulder, she looked there. they were beating the guy.

“what the fuck?” she whispered to woo-jin, who catched gun-woo’s arms.

“gun-woo, you can’t be involved!” he tried to stop him. with every thumping and clanking sound, bones and body parts were clashing to the ground, gun-woo looked at y/n. please, stand by my side. please reassure me that it’s okay to fuck up a plan and saving a man from dying. please, let me do the right thing.

y/n huffed.

“we don’t have time to negotiate on this. i don’t give a crap about this plan if we let an innocent person die.” she said, didn’t even finish the sentence and gun-woo began to attack. he easily knocked down the two of them, leaving only yang jae-myeong standing.

“who the fuck are you?” the guy yelled, y/n looked at him. he didn’t even look like a criminal; he seemed like a normal guy. or an asshole. okay, more like an asshole. gun-woo hesitated, this was yang jae-meong’s moment to attack as he flipped out his butterfly knife. the moment of shine didn’t come though; as y/n saw the sharp object directed at her friend, she kicked out from his hand. “and who the fuck are you?”

y/n didn’t say anything, only standing undo a fight position; she didn’t even know if it was krav maga, systema or muay thai —it was her instinct.

seeing the overpower, yang jae-myeong decided to run away without his gang. loser; they’re just doing this together for money. y/n was proud of herself; how fast did she make deductions! surely it was the adrenaline.

as the bad guys ran away, gun-woo crouched down to the man, touching its head —it was swimming in blood. if he wasn’t dead already… he could be just in ten minutes.

“call the ambulance” y/n said. woo-jin was freaking out at the time.

“hyeon-ju is going to kill us” he said, with his phone in his hand. the girl stepped in front of him.

“no, she won’t. call her, tell this, otherwise she’s gonna find it out and she or we all gonna get in trouble later.”

“but—“

“no buts! it’s our only choice.” y/n didn’t know why, but she added a “if she’s yelling really loud, give it to me.”

“why? you are freaked out too! you wanted to kill me!”

“you knocked down a damn box, geez! just call her! tell her what we did. and try to calm her.”

“thanks for the impossible task” he murmured, as he searched for the girl’s contact.

tooking off her cap and mask, y/n felt a little bit relieved as she could breath fresh air after the stale one under her mask. crouching down to look at the men, checking his pulse, she looked at the neon signs. her chest felt sore, and this whole situation was so screwed.

looking at gun-woo as he talked to the ambulance on the phone, for a couple of moments she just stared in front of her.

according to the minutes when yang jae-my ring was just assuming that someone was following them…

…now they were truly fucked.

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

author's note: m tired )): but we reached more than 140 notes on the first part, u are all so awesome!! i love y’all 🥺🥺🎀🍵🩷✨🩰 that’s why it’s worth it to stay up late at night and finish this <3

taglist: @fairyhani @castleninja @littlebaby-bunbun

(ask for tag in taglist in comment or here)

[cloudsinmargoscoffee]

margo i feel like we haven't talked at all about ttpd/the anthology ?? what are your favourites, how did you like the rest, what are your skips, tell me Everything (i personally am still very much enamoured with it, 31 songs can hold me for a looong time) <33

yeah, i was inactive at that time if i remember well. i actually have some controversial takes on ttpd. i feel like it's one of fandom favourites and meanwhile for me, it's my least favourite album she's ever made. when i first heard it, i was genuinely dissapointed. i admit it grew on me with time, but i rarely listen to it and when i do, i skip a lot of the songs. lyrically, it's a brilliant piece, but the musical aspect lacks to me. it feels as if the album only went through very superficial edits and cuts. it's too messy. and i get that the messiness is the part of the story she's trying to tell, but there are moments when that messiness feels more like lack of quality than an actual artistic device. i know you're a jack girlie, but ttpd really made me wish she worked less with him and more with aaron 😭 i like the anthology way more than the main part of the album. long story short, i like it, just not as much as taylor's other works.

i'll organize my favourites and skips into lists.

okay, so here are my favourites:

fortnight (post malone ate and left no crumbs)

down bad ("just to do experiments on, tell me i was the chosen one, show me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back WHERE I CAME FROM" insane stuff)

so long, london (dare i say one of the best songs of taylor's discography)

fresh out the slammer (it feels like a hot summer and juicy peaches to me and her voice when she sings "now pretty baby, i'm running home to you" is soooooo)

florida!!! (my two favourite artists on one song, LET'S FUCKING GO. that part where florence sings "and your cheating husband dissappeared, well, no one asks any questions here" is so cunty)

who's afraid of little old me? ("cause i am dramatic")

i can do it with a broken heart (i was listening to it on repeat when i was taking driving ed to hype myself up, didn't get my license, but the song slaps)

the smallest man who ever lived (idk where and when taylor met my dad)

clara bow ("you look like taylor swift" i love when she does plot twists, i'm always like "oooo damn she's so smart")

the black dog (AND I HOPE IT'S SHITTY IN THE BLACK DOG YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT BITCH that's how this song makes me feel)

how did it end? (unfortunately, everything described in these lyrics happened to me this year so i use it to make myself feel even worse when i'm having a breakdown)

i hate it here (i just hate it here, simple as that)

the prophecy (i've been single my whole life)

peter ("you said you were gonna grow up and then you were gonna come find me" joe alwyn, i'm in your walls)

the bolter (that's me she sings about, btw!)

and here are my skips:

ttpd (i fucking hate this song, it turns me into some evil creature)

but daddy i love him (idk, i just don't like it)

and when it comes to the rest of the songs, i like them, but they don't make me rip my hair out or anything. sometimes i skip them, sometimes i don't. depends on my mood.

now your turn to tell me Everything! <3

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

MERMAY: Twisted Wonderland Mermaid!AU Skit

Okay, here’s the other skit for my other version of the Mermaid!AU~!

Compared to the Marine Biologist!AU, this version has Yuu getting stranded on an island while on a scuba diving trip, and their goal is not only to find a way to get home, but also to discover the secrets of the island and uncover the history behind what caused the mermaids and the avians (aka like Rook since he’s a seagull) to be separated and turned into mere mythology.

What you’re about to read was more or less a writing exercise I wrote and edited for a possible part when Yuu first wakes up. I don't think I'm going to use this as part of the prologue, but it’s still a possibility if anyone else wanted to imagine this situation once I get it started!

Reminder: there is a language barrier between the humans and mermaids/avians, meaning that things we know the names of would be things they don’t know. Just like in the Little Mermaid! 0v0

Enjoy~!

////------////

Drip…drip…drip……

A quiet groan escaped as Yuu slowly opened their eyes, grunting and gasping as they slowly picked themselves up. Their body was battered and sore, their lungs burning as cold, damp air chilled their skin. Struggling to gather their thoughts, slowly but surely the memories of what happened came flooding back. What the hell was that…that…thing they saw?! What could possibly exist in the world that could destroy an entire ship in one swipe?! How—

How…did they survive?

“Where…am I?” Yuu uttered, looking at their surroundings. It became clear that they were inside a cave, a large pool of water nearby illuminated with a bright blue-green light that made ripples across the ceiling. The stone walls were also covered with glowing blue lights, slowly fading in and out like glittering stars. Were these glow worms? Wait…no, those hung from the ceiling. Some type of crystal?

On trying to stand to get a closer look at the wall, however, they collapsed the moment they tried to put any weight on their leg. In the dim lighting, they could see that their leg was wrapped tightly in seaweed. Peeling it away, they discovered a strange paste covering a large gash in the wet suit’s leg and an injury that looked mostly healed. Where had it come from? Who wrapped their leg up in seaweed and tended to their injuries?

“What’s…going on?” they uttered, noticing the array of random junk and items nearby. It looked like random stuff that had come from ships, some old, broken, and tattered while others were sealed in water-tight containers. Digging around one of the containers, Yuu found several survival kits inside and a survival guidebook in a waterproof bag and immediately pulled out the thermal blanket to wrap around their cold body. Sighing as their body began to warm up, they looked around once again and wondered, “How did I even get here?”

Bloop!

Yuu’s eyes landed on the pool of water nearby, staring at the rippling surface.

Bloop!

Their heart skipped a beat as they scuttled away from the edge, clutching the blanket around them tightly as they stared. Even from this angle they spotted two shadowy shapes appearing, both slowly growing larger and larger. ‘What is that?!’ they thought, heart hammering in their chest. Then—right before their eyes—a head emerged from the water.

A humanoid head with fins on its head.

Bright green eyes stared at them, the creature’s skin a mix of soft and dark blue with a black spade mark on its face partly hidden by the dark blue hair on its head. Its jaw dropped open as the fish it had been carrying fell, floating in the water. Seconds later, a second head emerged from the water with a head of bright red hair and a red heart-shaped mark on the opposite side of its face. This one looked annoyed as it chittered and squeaked something at its friend…before it too stopped and stared at Yuu.

“……I…I’m dreaming,” Yuu whispered. “I’m delirious and imagining fish-people in the water. There’s no way this is real…”

Then—in what looked like whispering—the creatures began quietly clicking and chittering at one another.

///---///

“…dude…it’s awake…”

“I know…”

“Why is it awake?!”

“I thought it was going to still be unconscious by the time we left the fish for it!”

“Dude, I told you to leave that thing alone! What if it’s dangerous?!”

“If it were dangerous, it would have already attacked us, Ace!”

The cavern echoed their words back at them, both of them glancing back and forth between each other and the strange two-legged creature.

“This is not good,” Ace uttered, gripping his head nervously. “Seriously, what are we going to do? How are we going to explain this to the others?! What even is it in the first place??”

“I don’t know!” Deuce snapped. “Maybe…they’re a deformed seal? Or an avian who lost their wings?”

“Then how do you explain the flippers on its legs instead of talons?” Ace pointed out. He did a double-take and asked, “And did it just grow a new set of silver scales? That’s so weird!”

“Weird or not, it still needed our help, Ace!” Deuce said with a frown. “They only appeared right after the Island Guardian reacted to that small metal whale, right? So maybe…it’s a new species that came from another island seeking help?”

Ace groaned as he shook his head. “We’re going to be in so much trouble once Riddle finds out about this…”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to go out beyond the void after getting him angry in the first place.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Eem treemin,” the creature mumbled, shaking their head before smacking their palms against the sides of their head. “Eem treemin, eem treemin…!”

“Is…is it okay?” Deuce asked, cautiously swimming forward to try and check on them.

Spotting movement nearby, Ace noticed a brightly colored form slithering across the cavern floor as it crawled across the silver skin around the creature’s body. It seemed to notice its new visitor too and—with wide eyes—it jumped up with a shriek.

“AAAAA!!”

“AAAAA!!!”

“AAAAAAA!!!”

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

Teaser pt 2

(Still a WIP but I’ve hit a block and wanna take my time with the actual smut)

So I wrote a little more and I’m just going to post what I’ve got going on for now. This has a decent amount of spice tho. Part two here

TW: MDNI/ 18+, Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto, no actual sex acts yet but mentions penis’, angst, PTSD, death mentioned, kissing, neediness, blood mentioned (taste), bro I just want them to be together, Gege when I catch you, not edited, not proofread, hoping to finish it over the weekend.

NSFW under the cut

The night air was cold on his skin as Suguru Geto leaned out his dorm window, trying to find enjoyment in the form of a cigarette. As he exhaled, his left hand came to rub at his eyes, the bags beneath them seemingly a part of him, just like his skin. Just when did everything go wrong? How much more of this could he take? After pitching away the rest of his cigarette, he adjusts the towel on his waist, and closes the window. He sits down on his bed, and runs his fingers through his still damp hair.

Maybe he’s being punished? He should have been more aware of his surroundings after him and Satoru were ambushed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even offered that girl a life, maybe had he not said anything, he wouldn’t have watched her die. That’s all he sees whenever he closes his eyes, her, and that man, the smug look on his face. When he manages to sleep, he is plagued by nightmares, the girl, screaming at him, Satoru’s body, broken and lifeless, and that man, Toji Fushiguru, no, not a man, what had he called himself? A monkey. The only time Suguru had felt real fear in his life, was caused by none other than a filthy fucking monkey.

He felt like the higher ups were trying to isolate him. Satoru, the only person he felt true friendship with was always being sent on solo missions, while Geto was left to exorcise and consume the curses. The curses, the only form of company he had. Sometimes he would let one out, late at night, alone in his room, just to feel the presence of something. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t even know if he could feel anymore, he had spent so long choking back silent tears. His emotions got the best of him at first, and he turned the overwhelming sadness, the emptiness into rage, and when that didn’t help he discarded those emotions, in fact he discarded all emotions.

A soft knock on the door startled him, and he had to ground himself back to reality. He check the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it read 3:17 a.m. He sighed and decided to ignore the door, which only resulting in whomever was there knocking louder.

“Yo! Suguru! I know you’re in there, let me in.” Of course.

Suguru rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m trying to sleep Satoru; we can talk in the morning.”

“Nah, I can tell that you’re awake, lemme in, it’s important.” Satoru demanded. “Besides if you don’t I’ll just stay here and pound on your door all night and wake everyone else up.”

Geto stood up, and crossed the room to the door, before swinging it open. “What do you need?”

Satoru threw up his hands and smirked. “You gonna let me in or?”

Geto moved out of the way,, and Satoru walked in, kicking his shoes off before perching himself on the chair at the desk. He quickly scanned his best friend, noting his lack of clothing, and dripping hair.

“Trying to sleep my ass.” Gojo scoffs. “Anyways, we’ve go a mission together, there’s this village, and apparently there’s been some weird activity going on, so I’m tagging along with you.”

Geto turned his head towards Gojo and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by tagging along?”

“Well, I kinda overheard Yaga talking about assigning you that mission solo, and I wanted to come with, since it’s been a while since we’ve had any missions together…” Gojo trailed off.

Geto could instantly tell he was lying, and glared at him.

“Ok, maybe they actually asked me to go with you, but either way! We get to work together again!” Gojo explained.

“So they think I’m incapable of handling a mission solo, and you need to be there?” Geto questioned.

“Suguru… they think you’re a liability, and as much as I hate the higher ups, and disagree with that, I just-“

“So in case something goes wrong, in case something inside me snaps, they want you to be there to put me down?!” Geto had heard enough, the anger he thought he buried rising to the surface.

“N-no,” Gojo stammered, while he stood up, closing the distance between them, his cool demeanour lost. “I don’t know what it is, they just need someone to keep an eye on you. You’ve been off Suguru, and don’t give me that bullshit about a summer cold, something’s going on with you.”

“Tch. I’m fine Satoru” Geto spoke. “I don’t need-“

Before Geto could finish speaking Satoru’s lips were on his own, his eyes widening. He had thought of doing this many times, but was never quite sure how to go about it. Geto parted his lips, allowing Gojo’s tongue to snake into his mouth, swirling his own tongue with Gojo’s. It was as though every wall he had built came crashing down at that moment, Geto wrapped his arms around Gojo, pulling him into an embrace, while Gojo runs his fingers through Geto’s hair.

When they pull away for a brief moment, Geto swears he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He brings a hand to Satoru’s cheek, cradling it, before pulling him back into the kiss. He’s rough, taking charge this time, biting on Gojo’s lower lip, causing the white haired man to inhale sharply. Geto forces his tongue into Gojo’s mouth and groans when Gojo sucks on his tongue. Geto kisses him passionately, lustfully, hungrily, almost as though he wishes to consume him.

Geto lowers Gojo to the bed, using one hand to support himself, and he trails kisses over Gojo’s neck, feeling himself grow erect. Gojo can’t help but squirm under him, wrapping his legs around Geto’s waist. Geto trails his fingers under Gojo’s shirt, feeling his muscles contract, one finger brushing over a nipple, before his thumb joined, pinching it. Kissing was no longer enough, Geto needed to taste him, and so he sunk his teeth into his neck, and began to suck on the tender skin, relishing the taste of copper as Gojo’s skin began to bruise. He stopped for a moment, to pull Gojo’s shirt off, and continued tasting the other man. His lips found their way to Gojo’s nipple, and he started licking at the bud, smirking when Gojo whined and rutted his hips up.

Gojo could feel himself coming undone, and he hadn’t even touched Geto yet, in fact he wasn’t planning any of this at all, the kiss was an impulse he had been feeling for a while, and finally acted on. But now he longed to feel his best friend inside of him, he was usually the one to take charge, and control the situation, but he wanted nothing else but to be ruined by Geto. Gojo’s aching cock twitched at the thought of being fucked by Geto, and as he watched the man’s head going lower and lower on his body, he didn’t know how much he could take. As Geto effortlessly undid his belt, and lowered his pants, leaving only his boxers, Gojo grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Geto looked questioningly at him.

“I want you to mark me.” Gojo breathed.

Geto cocked an eyebrow before trailing his tongue upwards, over his abs, and to his pecs. As Geto bit down again, Gojo groaned, he fist clenching around Geto’s hair. Gojo watched as marks formed on his body, some bleeding, others just barely bruising. He used his hands to guide Geto’s head closer to his own, before Geto’s lips came crashing down, and Gojo used his tongue to probe Geto’s mouth. Tasting his own blood drove him mad, and he needed more, so much more.

[acefiree]

𝗯𝗮𝘆! 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 | breath mint

Raphael ✷ Grayson ( 16+ ) MASTERLIST

RAMBLES: about to ramble so you can skip this if you want! this is a chapter from my fic I wrote following the timeline of the movies, and since I'm going through and editing the book, I wanted to share some of my favorite parts from the fic on my tumblr, so spoilers??

anyyywhoo I'm also posting chaps that I was going to trash, but instead, I decided to make them into reader inserts and age up the characters. so if you see that and connect the dots, you get a cookie :)

this is about my OC and April meeting the brothers and it will forever be in my heart bc I wrote this when I was sixteen, so there will be major cringe ahead.

also, the characters are their respective age in this to match the movie.

this is not a reader insert! and, keep in mind I WAS A FETUS writing this so my choice of faceclaim was silly and it was like 2017 when I wrote this.

*cough* sabrina carpenter *cough*

TO EXPECT: ocs, 2014! movie, SFW, and a potty mouth character, cringes of my very first fic.

disclaimer: i do NOT own tmnt or the movie scenes, just my ocs and what i write for them :)

I WAS VERY TEMPTED to punch myself in the face for being so damn stupid.

Who in their right mind leaves a flash on when trying to take a discrete photo?

Grayson fucking O'Neil apparently.

All four figures immediately froze, the flash lighting up the dark rooftop for only a second. It was painfully obvious I had taken a picture. My hands began to sweat as my heart started to speed up. I could hear the shadow figures whispering again, and this time I had a really good feeling it wasn't about their previous victory.

"What was that?"

"It's a camera flash."

"We know it's a camera flash."

"Who's behind the camera flash?"

There was a light shove that came from my leg, and I knew it was April probably wondering what was going on. But I didn't dare move.

Maybe if I just pretended that I wasn't here, they wouldn't see me?

"By my calculations, it's two girls,"

Two?! How can he see us both?!

"Now we gotta kill them..."

I nearly let go of the ladder at that, my stomach churning. Shit. Were they really going to kill us over a freaking picture? Who in the hell are these guys? American assassins?

"What?!"

"With kindness!"

"Give them some flowers, earn their trust."

"I got this."

"Raph, no, no, no! She has glasses!"

I had started to climb down now, but it didn't look like I was going anywhere – April was blocking my path.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from shouting at her. I wondered if a little kick to the face would make her move. I thought about it for a good second, though I refrained from doing so – but damn, did I want to.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her to move her ass, but a hard heavy chain was suddenly around my midsection. My eyes widened in shock, and I glanced down. "What—" with a harsh jerk and a very loud squeal from my lips, I was suddenly air-born.

My body hit the roof with a harsh thump, and I rolled, somehow shielding my head and camera at the same time. Pain shot up my arm when I landed on my wrist, the limb catching the brunt of my fall. When I finally had control over my own body again, I weakly sat up and clenched my teeth, holding my now throbbing wrist to my chest.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! That fucking hurt you asshole!" I shouted into the dark, my pain causing my temper to flare which controlled my tongue. I swear I could hear a giggle come from the dark.

I didn't give a damn who these guys were, they didn't have to yank me around like that. Unable to stop the aggravated huff that left my lips, I allowed my gaze to drop down to my camera as I checked it over, only to let out a relieved breath when I saw it was perfectly fine.

Yea, but freakin' my wrist isn't.

My eyes drifted back to my wrist as more annoyed grumbles came from my lips. A burning sensation came from my joint as I rotated the limb. I didn't think it was broken, but knew I it was going to bruise. I was so focused on my arm that I didn't notice when April climbed up the ladder and ran over to me. She was quick to notice how I was nursing my arm and she grabbed it tenderly, facing the inner part of my wrist up. She cringed at the flamed skin.

Damn. This was definitely going to start bruising soon. I could already see a red tint forming just below the junction of my thumb that would soon turn purple.

"Are you okay?"

I so badly wanted to snap back a sarcastic remark, but when my gaze locked with hers, my words seemed to leave me. I eased my arm away, staring up at her. I could see the fear in her eyes and that made the situation more real.

I was just pulled through the air like a fucking rag doll, of course I'm not okay!

But I didn't say that.

"I think so—"

A harsh thump, followed by a rough grunt, suddenly came from behind me and a shaky breath slipped through April's lips as she tilted her head back, her eyes growing when her gaze locked onto someone, or something, behind me.

By the look on April's face, I really didn't want to turn to see what made her suddenly go pale. Something in my gut told me not to turn around, to just fall out and play dead – I wanted to ask who was standing there so I didn't have to look.

Then I remembered this asshole was the one that just yanked me from the ladder. It only took two seconds of me mentally preparing myself before I found enough courage to turn around and give this man a piece of my mind on how he shouldn't yank little people around, just so he could feel superior.

I quickly turned, but came to a jerking stop when my nose brushed against a...knee. My eyes crossed as I stared at the limb, and the first thing I noticed was how...green...it was green?

Momentarily forgetting my previous anger and my throbbing wrist, I shuffled back on my butt, my head tilting up to see who the large ass knee belonged to. My eyes bugged like a Looney Tunes character as I assessed the figure towering over me.

Holy fucking shit.

Green eyes clashed with Grey as a man-like turtle glared down at me. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Upon seeing the look on my face, his lips curled back over his teeth into a snarl and I watched as his eyes scanned over my persons for a second, as if looking for something.

I instantly thought of my camera and instinctively grabbed it to my chest. That action had him narrowing his gaze on the device and that's when I knew what he wanted.

There were no words being said as me and my sister sat frozen in our spots. My sister looked about ready to piss herself, while I was trying my best to control my breathing and the pace of my heart. I suddenly felt warm and clammy and my heart was fluttering in an odd rhythm in my chest.

Time seemed non-existent as I took in this creature's appearance, noting the blood-red mask wrapped around the upper part of his head, kind of looking like a du-rag. The red fabric seemed like a good fashion choice, seeing that he had a very pissed-off look on his face at the moment. My gaze swept over the large turtle man, taking in all the gear he was wearing.

There was a thick leather strap stretched across, what I think was, his chest as it disappeared over the lip of his shell. And on his waist was an old-looking strap playing as a belt as it held up his odd-looking pants. My eyes then drifted to his arms, which were literally the size of my head. There was a red band tied around his bicep, stretching as the muscle moved.

This turtle man was ripped, and I honestly wanted to ask what type of steroids he took, because holy shit he was built like a miniature Hulk.

He rumbled lowly, his nostrils flaring as I snapped my eyes back to his own. I could tell he noticed my little observation, and he didn't hide the fact he didn't like it.

"Give me the camera,"

I had to pause at the sound of his voice, my face shifting gradually when I realized he could speak English. His voice was low and raspy like he was a heavy smoker and all his years of smoking finally caught up to him – I don't know what I was expecting the turtle man to sound like, but it definitely wasn't that.

April helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist protectively as we stared at him wide-eyed. I could feel her hands shaking against my waist, causing a spark of protectiveness to wash over me. There was a bead of sweat forming on my forehead as my knees wabbled.

"Ooh, look, he's doing his Batman voice," A voice snorted from behind the red-clad turtle, voice lowering to mock him.

"They're so hot, I can feel my shell tightening," A higher-pitched voice strained, prompting me to raise an eyebrow.

Excuse me?

I tried to shift my gaze around the red-clad turtle in front of me, wanting to see who was talking, but his big ass shell was blocking my view.

The red-banded turtle rolled his jaded eyes and turned to look back over his shoulder, or more like his shell. "We can hear you," He growled.

I tensed more as he turned back to us, his eyes locking me again in as he unsheathed something from both sides of his abdomen and I looked down.

Recognition flashed in my gaze as I stared at the familiar fork-like daggers.

So he was the one I saw that night? The shadow man? Holy shit! This is all starting to make sense—

I nearly jerked back when he placed one of the daggers under my chin, his jaw ticking as my breath quickened.

Jesus, what is his problem? My heart started to sporadically flutter faster as a twinge of fear settled in my stomach, afraid he might nick my skin with the sharp object.

He took a small step closer to me, having to slouch over drastically so he could get in my face. I could tell this was his way to intimidate me, and I would be lying if I said it wasn't working. His hot breath tickled my face, causing a light scrunch on my nose to form as I leaned back and tucked my chin toward my chest, promptly showing a double chin.

I was tempted to head-butt this turtle if he got any closer to me. Did this dude know anything about personal space? Because damn, he was so close, if I wanted to, I could boop him on the nose.

All witty remarks seemed to leave me as my brain was still trying to understand what I was seeing. So, panicking, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Dude, you need a breath mint,"

As soon as the words left my mouth, Red's non-existent brows shot up in shock, as if my words had slapped him in the face. There was a loud boisterous laugh that came from behind him, which had the red turtle quickly recovering from his shock when he realized what I said.

He sharpened his harsh glare down at me, looking somewhat offended. "Wha—why I outta—" He lifted my chin higher with the dagger, "If you don't give me the camera, I'm gonna—"

"You're gonna what? Poke us to death with your little forks? Ooh, I'm shivering." I said before adding, "And by the way, you sound nothing like Batman – if anything, you sound constipated. Don't disrespect Bruce Wayne like that."

I don't know if it was the fall I took, or the amount of cake I ate tonight. But I found myself knocking my uninjured arm against his to move the dagger out of my space. I knew running my mouth was probably going to get me hurt, but this turtle was rude as hell. And that shit wasn't about to fly with me.

I could feel April's eyes glaring at me, most likely wishing I would shut up.

A loud snort came from behind the red turtle again, followed by a frenzy of giggles. If he was mad before, he was defiantly livid now. His face started to change, and if he could blush, I was certain his cheeks would be the color of his mask.

He cracked open his mouth to speak again, but a loud voice cut him off.

"Enough!" I stepped back and watched as another turtle flipped over us, landing on the other side of the rooftop – this one sporting a blue mask.

What's up with the multi-colored masks? Are they color-coded turtles or something? Was I missing the punch line?

My eyes flickered to the two weapons he gripped in his large hands tightly, and I instantly recognized them to be Katana's. He glanced down, his face stern as he assessed the three of us. I suddenly felt really small under his gaze, as if I were a child being scolded.

I watched as he twisted his wrists, expertly spinning his weapons before lifting his arms and sliding them onto the back of his shell, crossing them into a large 'X'.

"Back off, Raph." He ordered, looking over to the turtle in red.

So rude turt has a name? I thought before looking back at Blue.

The red turtle, Raph, let out an aggravated growl as he stepped back and moved away. "I only saw Batman once!—she made fun of my voice and said I needed a mint." He whispered the last part to himself, but I heard him perfectly.

"Ladies, hello. I apologize." The blue-clad turtle said coolly, effortlessly dropping from the edge in one step as he moved in front of us. "My colleague here forgot to say please – so would you please hand over the camera?"

At this point, he was standing but a few feet away. His eyes, which were the brightest blue I had ever seen, glanced down at the camera hanging from my neck before looking back up at my face, his mask shifting as he lifted a non-existent brow. This turtle seemed a lot calmer than the first, but that didn't make me trust him in the slightest.

The scenario good cop, bad cop coming to mind.

I instinctively grasped my sister's hand, tugging her closer to me as I backed away, refusing to give up my beloved camera in fear that they might smash it.

Blue started to take a few steps closer when he noticed us backing away, and I was quick to stop him by throwing my finger in his face. "Ah, Ah! No! You stay."

His face looked rather shocked for a moment at my boldness, and I was surprised when he actually came to a stop. He blinked a few times as if he couldn't believe I just told him to stay put like a dog. I took this as my chance to turn, pulling on April so we could find an escape—

My body jolted to a stop when we came face to face with another turtle – this one in orange.

Holy shit! Are they fucking multiplying?!

April gasped and sprung back, letting me go in the process. My arm flew up out of instinct, not expecting him to be so close. Just before I could make contact and hit him for being in my personal bubble, the Orange-clad turtle was quick to catch me by the wrist, shocking the literal hell out of me.

"Whoa, dudette! chill, it's just a mask. See? Don't freak out—right?" He used his other hand to take off his mask, dangling the fabric in my face with a boyish smile on his face.

One of my brows quirk of its own accord as I tensely glimpse at his massive hand that was wrapped around my small wrist, noting he only has three fucking fingers. He saw the look on my face, a sheepish grin morphing on his lips as he quickly let go.

At the rate my breathing was going, I began to feel a little lightheaded, my heart still fluttering in my chest as my legs became shakier. Oh no. I blinked a few times as the turtle in front of me became blurry. When I blinked again, the red turtle was suddenly standing by the orange one, both watching me with strange looks on their faces as I took a stumbling step back.

Shit, I don't feel good.

"Ray?" April's voice seemed far away, though I knew she was literally right behind me.

Just as I began to collapse, a pair of large hands caught me, and my body went limp.

"Oh, that went well."

"BREATHING STEADY. Blood pressure stabilizing." Someone said as a bright beam shined in my eyes.

My thoughts were jumbled the second I could make out multiple green faces hovering over me.

"Why are we still here playing doctor?" A deeper voice growled, sounding annoyed.

"Because, other than her injured wrist—which you caused—She might have a head injury."

"Uh, correction, she's a hot chick who may have a head injury. Which makes it our civic duty—"

"Would you knock it off."

I jerked away when a green hand was suddenly in my face, three fingers snapping. I blinked a few times as I squinted my eyes at the turtle. He was wearing a pair of goggles and was wearing a purple mask. When he noticed I was conscious enough, he quickly moved out of my space, allowing me to sit up.

"Tink, are you okay?"

I felt instant comfort from the nickname and glanced over to see my sister staring at me with concern, her hand lightly pressed against my knee. I nodded my eyes blinking a few more times as I noticed my vision was still impaired. My hands snap to my face, panic washing over me when I realize my glasses are gone.

The urge to pull a Velma and shout 'My glasses!' hit me as I started to look around for them. Before I could promptly start freaking the hell out, April tapped my shoulder and I felt instant relief when she pulled them out and placed them on my face for me. I gave her a grateful nod, adjusting them before I turned my attention to the four turtles watching us.

I can't believe I passed out.

I twisted my lips, rubbing my hurt wrist while my eyes drifted to each turtle, taking them in as I stood to my feet with the help of my sister.

"What are you?" April asked, also looking at them.

The blue-clad turtle glanced at the others before moving forward slightly. "Well, Miss, uh, we're ninjas." He leaned the top part of his body forward, resting his fist into the palm of his hand and bowing his head at us respectively.

I found myself actually wanting to smile at his actions.

The urge to smile quickly disappeared as soon as the red brute, who I remember being called Raph, spoke up, his eyes set in a hard glare as he stared at us "We're mutants."

The purple one, which I noticed was the tallest out of all of them, looked at us, his goggles gone and replaced with glasses. "Well, technically we're turtles."

"Oh, and we're teenagers! But we can still have...adult conversations." The Orange-clad turtle says, wiggling his fingers and winking at us.

I let out a sound of surprise, gaining their attention. "No, I am a teenager." I gestured to myself with both hands, my eyes wide as I looked back at them incredulously. "Like, honestly, you look like grown-ass men — I mean turtles..."

"You're a teenager?!" The orange banded one whispered in shocked wonder as he approached me, bending and placing his hands on his knees as he got in my face like he was analyzing a rare specimen. I took a step back and gave him a look as he muttered, "But...you're so tiny,"

I made a face at his words, "I'm not that short! I'm a pretty normal height for a girl..."

The purple-wielding turtle let out an amused snort, prompting us to look at him now. "Actually, you seem to be around 5'2 and the normal height for a human female is—"

"Can we please get back on topic guys? We don't have time to share facts and height charts." Blue interrupted us, making me turn to him with a lifted brow.

I promise, I tried to stop my eyes from rolling, I really did, but they had a mind of their own. "Bossy ass," I muttered under my breath.

His eyes snapped to me, and I instantly knew he heard what I said, causing me to shoot him an innocent smile in return.

April, who was still hung up on their existence stepped forward to butt in, "Wait, So, you're—ninja, mutant, turtle, teenagers?" she questioned, sounding slightly ridiculous with how she worded it.

My lips pursed and I shook my head, "That sounds silly—" I glanced at April disappointed, "Why not Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? It has a better ring to it."

"Agreed," The one in purple said, causing me to look back at him with a smile.

I glanced at all of them again, curiosity shining in my eyes as I began to wonder how this even happened. It's not every day you run into humanoid turtles who can speak perfect English. There has to be more to this.

My eyes stopped on Raph, catching the glare he was giving as he watched me look around at them. I lifted a brow, and his expression only grew more annoyed. "They're lookin' at us like we're freaks." He suddenly spat, pointing his fork dagger at me.

Seriously, what is this turtle's malfunction? He seemed to be the only one with a thorn in his side and it was starting to piss me off.

"I bet that's why you took our picture, wasn't it? To show your friends" He accused as he pointed at me again, a smug look mixing with his irritated one. "That is, if ya' have friends."

My mouth dropped in shock at his dig at my social life. Who did this turtle think he was? He was being such an ass, and for what?

"Look here 'Mr.Batman'—" I decreased my voice into a mocking tone, trying to mimic the baritone voice he did earlier, "When it comes to disrespect, I'm usually open-minded, but you've been a real ass tonight, so I'm about to be open-handed and smack the shit outta you!" I sass back before somewhat shouting, "Don't play with me!"

Crickets. There's a distinct pause as all four turtles look comically baffled at my little outburst. They were probably wondering how much damage a small girl like me could do to a six-foot mutant turtle, but I swear if he said another rude ass thing to me, they will all find out.

Suddenly, a very boyish laugh filled the tense atmosphere and I swung my gaze over to the orange-clad turtle, watching as he clutched his stomach from laughing so hard.

"Dudes I think I just fell in love – Raph she just put you in your place bro!"

The red-banded turtle shot the other one a sharp glare, his lip curling as he yanked his intense gaze back in my direction. I took a tiny step back as the hothead dropped down from the ledge he was perched on, his green eyes burning into my own. I noticed his scarred lip quirk into a smirk when he saw me step back. Something in his hand caught my attention, so I looked down and froze upon seeing my camera dangling in his grasp.

"Looking for this?" He taunted, his smirk growing as he observed the shocked expression on my face.

I quickly patted down my body, as if I wasn't looking at my camera. What the hell?! My mouth formed a tight line as he got closer to me, my head having to tilt back so I could stare him directly in the eyes.

Don't show fear, be the bad bitch you know you are.

"I swear, if you break my camera, I'll monkey jump your ass!"

He gave me a challenging look in return, "Bring it, Trouble," His gaze fell from my face and traveled over my body, sizing me up. "I can take ya."

I ignored the nickname as the annoyance I felt grew, "I don't know the anatomy of a mutant turtle, but I'm so close to kicking you in the balls if you don't back the fuck up!" I growled, jabbing a finger in his shell-covered chest.

It's been I while since I've gotten this upset, usually I was chill. But this turtle seemed like he really enjoyed pressing my buttons.

For a moment I could have sworn fear flashed in his eyes when I mentioned kicking him down under. And he seemed to close his stance a little. But before any more words could be shared between us, blue stepped in, moving Raph back.

"How many times do I have to tell you? We don't break things, we fix them. Donnie already wiped the camera, genius – Problem solved, moving on." The blue-clad turtle spoke, his eyes hardening on Raph who now seemed embarrassed by being scolded.

I snapped my head toward the purple turtle, assuming he was the one who messed with my stuff. "You did what?!" My voice squeaked, causing the purple banded turtle to jump and his glasses-covered eyes to round. "Please tell me you didn't wipe everything!"

My whole life was on that damn thing! He better not have erased the memory, I only took one picture!

The purple, Donnie, looked extremely uncomfortable and slightly panicked. He opened his mouth to speak, but the big brute cut him off before he could defend his actions.

"And who put you in charge?" Red rumbled, anger sparking in his green eyes as he turned to face blue.

Now Blue seemed pissed, his chest bumping into Raph's as he matched his aggression. "You know who did." His voice lowers and I find myself taking a small step back.

I had a feeling a fight was about to break out, and I didn't want to be caught in the middle of that.

These guys are really moody.

"Ooh, tension! It's been like thirty whole minutes since you guys had this argument." The orange one butted in with a smile on his face, not seeming fazed by the other turtle's aggressiveness.

"Leonardo, if we want to make it home before Master, we gotta hustle," Donnie spoke up, glancing at his wrist which had a cool-looking watch on it.

For a moment I pause, a sense of familiarity washing over my mind as I thought over that name.

"Leonardo?" I heard April whisper from beside me, causing me to look over at her with a questioning look.

Has she heard of that name before too?

The blue one, Leonardo, turned to me. I kept quiet as he stepped closer and held out my camera for me to take. "Do not say a word about this to anyone," he lowered himself to my height, and even though he was bent over, I still had to look up. "If you do, we will find you." His eyes swayed between me and April for a second, "April and Grayson O'Neil."

He was back to standing his full height; A serious superior look casting in his blue eyes. He turned his head to look at Raph, narrowing his eyes slightly. "We're on the move, Raphael."

"Raphael...?" I murmured this time, my brows pinched together. Where have I heard these damn names before?

A deep rumble followed after I said the name, which caused me to look up. It was Raphael. When we locked eyes, I could see his shoulders tense as he shot me a displeased look. I stared at him for a long moment, trying to read this strange being. He stared back and I could only assume he was doing the same with me.

I could tell he was the most guarded out of the other three, and I was quick to pick up on the fact he seemed insecure about what others thought about his appearance. I would have to remember not to stare if I wanted to stay on his good side. That is, if he even had one.

Like a splash of cold water to the face; Raphael moved away from us, before squaring his shoulders and placing his little bitty weapons back in their holster. He locked eyes with me once more and shot me a pointed glare, the toothpick in his mouth shifting.

Yep, this guy really doesn't like me...Wait, where did the toothpick come from?

"Yeahhh, we'll find you, O'Neil." The orange started doing weird hand gestures as he gradually backed away.

I quirked a brow at how odd and disturbing it sounded.

I jumped a little as he came back quickly, an awkward smile on his face, "I'm sorry, that came across super creepy, okay?" He chuckled nervously, "But we will find you though." He pointed at us, shooting a small wink.

He's weird. I giggled softly.

An award-winning smile broke out on his face as he heard my laugh, looking like a child in a candy shop. He waved me goodbye as he ran after the others who had begun to leave. Leonardo shot him a stern look when he finally caught up, muttering something to him under his breath.

April rushed after them, her phone now out and raised to snap more pictures as they disappeared into the night.

I rolled my eyes before joining her at the edge of the building, smirking to myself.

"It was like fire brah, did you see me back there? She's totally into me, I made her laugh!"

"Shut it, Mikey." I recognized that voice to be Raphaels.

I glanced over at April, my smile spreading somewhat in excitement.

I knew after tonight, that neither of our lives were ever going to be the same.

MASTERLIST

[technicallyoneofakind]

I'm thinking about the whole Kellogg taking over Nick's brain again. And I thought of (and partially dreamt of) a multi-ending quest line for it.

So! It starts with the Eddie Winter Quest (after the Memory Den he gave me that quest so that's where I'm starting.) As you find the tapes, you get a requirement to talk to Nick about the tape which he has you play back just to confirm its authenticity.

At first Nick seems relatively fine, maybe a bit reflective on the case of whatever the first tape you find is. Your dialogue may vary.

Then, subtly, Nick starts saying things that doesn't seem relevant to the tapes in some parts of his dialogue.

And at first you brush it aside thinking it's just weird dialogue, but Nick starts to get more and more "off" with each tape- saying things that Kellogg would say to the player in Nick's voice but not actively doing anything against you.

Nick tries to brush it off himself also near the middle of the quest, claiming it's a bit of stray memory left over from Kellogg and nothing more. However, after the last tape, you confront Nick about Kellogg affecting his speech... because for a moment Kellogg breaks through again like in the Memory Den.

Now, you have three choices that will permanently affect Nick's behavior as a companion at this point depending on what you choose. This is where the multiple quest ending comes in.

1.

You put Nick out of his misery. Over the conversation, Nick gets worse and worse and if you act as if you don't trust him or are scared of him, the more Kellogg seizes control.

You may either fight Kellogg!Nick or choose a dialogue where you kill him instantly with some heartbreaking parting words from the detective. Kellogg!Nick I expect to be difficult if Nick is stocked up on weapons and ammo at the time. This fails the Eddie Winter quest line.

2.

You convince Nick to fight Kellogg back with no other assistance. Your support is key in giving him the strength to keep the bastard from controlling his body and mind completely.

Kellogg does resurface from time to time during other points of the game and might affect persuasion attempts, but movement, battle, and ally wise, Nick mostly remains the same aside from the occasional weird dialogue from Kellogg when you talk to him.

You still get to fight Eddie Winter but Nick's reflection of events of Human!Nick get confused with Kellogg's own memories due to the corruption never being really fixed.

2.

Kellogg gets expunged at the memory den. You convinced him to get help and gave him moral support to fight Kellogg until you get him to the Memory Den. Dr. Amari sits you back in the chair and you go through a similar process to reading Kellogg's memories.

This time, things are much more interesting. Kellogg's memories try to fight you and your only weapons are an old revolver and your fists. You actually can die trying to clear Kellogg's memories from Nick's mind.

You have help, though. Human!Nick is there from the core memories. He's the visual representative of the system fighting to keep Kellogg at bay while the mercs you fight are Kellogg's.

Human!Nick doesn't always address you and there are stages where he's a lot less effective thanks to the corruption. This changes from stage to stage. Each have moments of Human!Nick's life that shows more of who he was as a cop and his relationship with Jenny- her memory being the most colorful and bright, representing how much Past!Nick and Current!Nick cared for her.

Each memory is more broken than the last. They play out (or try to) before the system deploys Human!Nick to help you ward off another attack. At a certain depth, Human!Nick stops being able to help all together but that doesn't mean the system (Current!Nick) isn't done helping you.

The system provides a safepoint/area to restock and aqcuire very specific armor you can only have in the memories (armored polished looking version of Nick's current attire I would think. Or an armored suit.) It gives you a special gun that Human!Nick used to use as a cop. This gun is more affective than the one you already use.

Oh and did I mention he disguised this safe area as a 1960s/70s black and white TV ad, complete with Nick's special brand of silliness? During this he does stress "protecting your family" or "purchasing" food or medicine to "keep you healthy" in that classical TV ad tone to guide the player. All the items are preserved so they don't give you rads.

After the safepoint you continue and notice... no more Human!Nick helping you. It's mostly Kellogg and his goons from this point further.

The last memory before you reach Kellogg himself and fight him is a deeply corrupted memory of Jenny's murder- you only get to see bits and pieces of it, but it's more vivid than the rest.

When you get to Kellogg, he sends synths at you. Some synths look like Current!Nick with a missing hat or face, some are missing entire parts of their bodies- representing what he's attempted to take over. It's a struggle, but eventually you beat him in a memory of the room you killed him in.

Once he's dead, the stage takes the form of Amari's office, albeit with some glitchiness at first.

The Synths you beat fighting Kellogg are reset and start milling about wordlessly until you talk to what looks like a patchwork version of Human!Nick and Current!Nick standing in the center of the room.

When he thanks you, you realize the other Synths talk for him for some phrases, like multiple cores on a CPU breaks up a task into smaller bits of data. It's Current!Nick talking, but the patchwork person in front you represents his conflict with his human memories and is essentially his core.

He reassures you that everything's back to normal, he's okay, and tells you he'll see you when you wake up on the other side.

Once you wake up, our good old detective friend is already in the same place you found him in last time you went to the Memory Den.

You get to talk to him about Past!Nick. If you bring up Jenny, he tells you that he'll talk to you about it later, saving it for the end of the Eddie Winter quest line.

---

So yeah. I really wanted a side quest where Kellogg is doing things in the background and causing Nick terrible trouble along with an opportunity to see some of who Human!Nick was. But we never got one.

[lindzaylove]

E.M. | Rainfall

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

trigger warnings: angst (yeah, it’s angsty to the end but with a kind of happy ending?); a little editing (not much, but y’know); swearing

part two to Many Moons Ago

a/n: thank you guys so much for requesting this and following me! you have no idea how much that means to me <3 I love y'all

It isn’t every day that an epic love comes and goes in the span of two years. Seeing Eddie, talking to Eddie, had made you incapable of falling asleep. It would have been sweet, his affect on you, had it not been completely enraging. Coming back into your life because Dustin fucking Henderson couldn’t pick out a horror movie by himself? What kind of sick joke was God playing?

Even worse, his face was etched into the back of your eyelids. His nose, scrunched slightly in confusion. Eyebrows pressing together as his lips opened slightly. Hair curly and wild, sitting against his fair skin. God making Eddie your worst enemy was a game made for the devil.

Eddie’s confusion hurt most of all. It made you doubt yourself. Were you remembering wrong? You wracked your brain for any difference in your story, but alas, your memory stood. He had broken your heart in the most cruel way.

You’d gone through this thought process already. Were you a joke among him and his friends? Were you a bet, a side hustle for some cash? Were you meant to make Chrissy jealous? You could never find a reason for what he said, for how he could spend all that time getting to know you and hold you and kiss you? How could he be your first kiss, knowing the whole time he didn’t love you, want you?

It didn’t make sense, none of it. He had to have felt something. Which meant he lied. But why? Why would Eddie lie to you about that?

It was on your mind at school the next morning. You looked the halls for him, hoping you could see something that would suddenly explain everything. No matter what, you couldn’t find him. Perhaps he skipped, embarrassed to see you. How dare he hide, though. He had left you a mess and now he expects you to pretend it didn’t happen?

Finally, lunch came around and you saw him. He was staring at his plate, tossing around whatever food he had. You felt a sick feeling of satisfaction knowing he was distraught. When he’d broken up with you, you hadn’t been able to sleep. You wondered how that taste of his own medicine felt going down his throat.

Suddenly, he looked right at you. Even across the cafeteria you could see the way his eyes got a little bit wider and his shoulders got a little bit straighter. Neither of you looked away for a while, not until Jason came in with more basketball players, causing a commotion. You were quick to throw out your lunch, heading out to the woods beyond the school where a picnic table sat.

You and Eddie had been there a couple of times together. It was always quiet, always a place away from everything that you two enjoyed more than you could admit out loud for fear of sounding foolish. It was one of those places that made you feel safe, even if it also reminded you of him.

It was only a few moments before you found the spot on the table where you two had carved your initials in a heart. Two years had passed, but it hadn’t faded in the least. Though it wasn’t often you came here in case Eddie was present, but it still made your heart ache each time.

The day you’d done it was present in your mind, reminding you of how in love you’d really been at sixteen. You were laying on the table and he was sitting there, holding your hand and pressing kisses to your fingers. The sky was was littered with clouds and it was chilly out, the late February breeze leaving chills on your skin.

“You know,” you mumbled, turning your head to look at him. He smiled widely, holding your hand to his lips, breath warm against your skin. “I kind of want to do this forever.”

“Stare at the clouds?” He glanced up. “Seems a bit boring to me.”

“Obviously not,” you rolled your eyes, tapping your fingers against his cheek. “Being with you. It feels like a forever sort of thing.”

“I-“ Eddie paused, holding your hand against his face. “Wanna do something semi-permanent?”

“I am not getting a tattoo with you,” you sat up, but he only laughed.

“No, I mean stab the table in a weirdly romantic way,” he says, pulling out his pocket knife.

You slide into the seat next to him, close enough to feel his body heat and be in the way of his arm as he carved. You couldn’t see what he was doing until he finished it.

A crude heart with both of your initials inside of it.

“I love you,” he said, for the first time. You’d said it last week while watching a movie, simultaneously telling him you knew it was fast and he didn’t need to say it back. But there he was, Eddie Munson, carving your initials into the table and telling you.

You didn’t know you were crying until it fell on the table. In the heart. Somehow it still felt so fresh when you thought about it all. Two months was no time at all to be together, yet you were so sure it would last. Sweet, sweet, naive you.

The shift at Family Video after school didn’t help. Steve was trying to find a date, failing miserably. Robin was teasing, threatening to revive the white board she’d had before. You were watching, like always, hoping one day the past would make sense again.

“Where is Y/N?” Dustin’s voice caused you to pause on your way to the front of the store. You were quick to check out the windows, no sign of Eddie’s van as you cut Steve’s answer off.

“Here in the flesh, Henderson. What’s up?”

“That movie you rented me, it made Eddie cry.”

“Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?” Steve asked, leaning forward on the counter. “He cries?”

“I don’t even know what movie I rented you,” you shrugged. “Nonetheless, Eddie makes fun of horror movies.”

“It was The Shining.”

“So?” You crossed your arms. Though you were skeptical of Eddie crying, you couldn’t help but be even slightly interested in what had caused it. You were almost praying it was and wasn’t you simultaneously.

“So he showed up late to school today and then left during lunch. I know it has to do with you.”

“Henderson, dude,” Steve tapped the table. “Take a breath.”

“What do you want me to do, go to his place and make him feel better?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if you were paying attention yesterday, but Eddie isn’t on my list of people to really worry about anymore.”

“Anymore?” Robin whispered to Steve, who looked equally confused.

“He canceled Hellfire tomorrow night,” Dustin sighed. You immediately dropped your arms to your sides.

“Really?” You blinked, confusion setting. Eddie never cancelled Hellfire, even if you were sick. It was always “well, you shouldn’t have jumped in the lake last week” even though he had done it right alongside you. Eddie Munson would die before cancelling Hellfire, he wouldn’t even reschedule if people were busy.

“I’m still confused,” Steve mumbled, chin resting on his hands. Robin nodded quickly in agreement.

“Really. So could you please go over there and make sure we play tomorrow. Also make him less sad, it’s weird to see him all mopey,” Dustin replied. I glanced at Steve and Robin, who shrugged and motioned around the store.

“We have to know everything when we see you again,” Steve pointed a finger at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, heading out to your car.

You knew you shouldn’t be going to see him. It was one of your stupidest decisions (the most stupid being to pursue him in the first place). The drive over there would have been quiet had it not begun to rain. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit like the universe was playing pranks on you.

Pulling into the trailer park was a little odd, seeing familiar faces who happily waved at the sight of your beat up car as well as empty trailers you knew used to have families in them. Two years was some how quite a bit of time for Forest Hills. Two years was some time for anyone and anything if not nurtured.

Before you knew it, your engine was off and the Munson trailer sat in front of you. Eddie’s van barely registered as you opened the car door. The rain was coming down a bit harder now, getting you wet as you found your way up the stairs. The screen door was shut, but the other one was cracked a bit. You could hear music softly, even as you helped yourself inside.

The trailer looked the same, which only made you more on edge. You hoped being there, seeing things hadn’t changed a bit, would have helped. The dishes stacked a couple dishes too high, the magnets on the fridge holding up several notices and statements, the couch being much darker than you know they bought it. It was almost enough to make you turn and go. Seeing Eddie was going to send you running, you were sure of it.

“Did they send you-oh,” Eddie said, stopping a few feet from you. His Hellfire shirt, or probably just one of them, was a bit too big on him. His black jeans were tugged halfway on and when he saw you he pulled them the rest of the way up. The music you’d heard was a bit louder now, clearly coming from his room.

“Hey, Eddie,” you held your hands in front of you, “I just wanted to come check on you.

“Did Dustin tell you to come?” He asked, not moving from his spot. You could hear the thunder loud and clear in your head and outside. The past and present were mixing.

“Yeah. He said you weren’t feeling well and he figured I could come talk to you. Said you cancelled Hellfire tomorrow.”

It was silent as he stared at you, clearly evaluating what you could possibly be doing in his home two years after what you claimed to be your worst heartbreak. You’d been rude to him yesterday, completely cruel. You wanted answers, most of all. Forget Hellfire, forget Dustin, forget the past two years. You wanted to know what happened.

“I want to know if you meant what you said,” you added. “Just like, during the breakup. Did you mean it?”

“I-“ Eddie was nervous. He was wringing his hands and rocking on his heels. His eyes couldn’t meet yours again.

“I’m tired, Eddie. I’m so tired of hating you,” you breathed out. “I just want to say goodbye and move on, for real. I don’t want to be the zombie you made me anymore.”

“Well-“

“You cried.” You cut him off. “You fucking cried during The Shining. You think I forgot what happened during the movie? You think I forgot every touch, every kiss, every glance? It doesn’t stop, it never stops. I do my best to pretend like you died but it only makes it worse when I see you at school or hear one of those freshman talk about you.

Worst of all, I can’t stop asking myself why. Why did you pretend with me? Why did you tell me you love me? Why did you let my heart grow for you only to shatter it? Why did you break my heart like that? Why did you let me drive home alone in the rain? Why didn’t you call, or come apologize? Why’d you say all those things?

“It was a normal, harmless argument and you broke up with me. You sent me home feeling worthless and like nothing I ever did or said to you meant more than an ego boost. Damn it, Eddie. I was so in love with you.”

You finished at lightning struck, so close it lit up the windows around you. The tears rolled and rolled down your face, a personal rainfall happening for you. Your mind was clouded with so many more words you could have said, so many things you wanted answers for. He stood still, watching you curl your hands into fists. He didn’t answer. Silence.

You turned and went outside. The rain was no where near done, completely soaking you within seconds. You hated the world for not just letting you find your key and get in and pull away. Instead you stood outside your car, flipping through your keys like an idiot.

“Y/N,” Eddie’s voice found you over the storm, screen door closing behind him as he ran down the steps.

“What?“ You yelled back, still fumbling with your keys.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“What?” You looked up at him, rain colliding with your eyes as you blinked at him. Mud was forming around your shoes and you knew you were frozen in place - would have been had you been in the desert.

“I didn’t mean it, any of it,” he wiped the hair out of his face. “I loved you. I was scared that I loved you. I was worried you would leave me, would find someone like Jason or Steve or even that shitty Hargrove guy who would make you a million times happier. I figured that two months was the perfect time for you to figure out what you really wanted. You brought up Chrissy and I knew it. I knew, or I thought I knew, you were looking for a way out.

“You’re too nice, Y/N. You wouldn’t have been mean about it. I just couldn’t let myself feel that kind of pain, of being a pawn in someone’s game. So I made you believe you were the pawn. I wanted you to feel that way.

“It was stupid, childish, and awful. I was scared and I ran, but not without pushing you down first.”

“You said yesterday-“

“I lied,” he shook his head. “I was still scared, so scared that you were hating me. You were, you do. It hurt so bad to know that I made you feel that way. You always talked about words rolling off your shoulder, I figured us going back to being strangers only meant that was exactly what you thought.”

“I don’t have time for this,” you turned around to unlock your door. His arms were quick to be on either side of you, faces inches from yours when you turned to look at him.

“Hear me out,” he begged, “please.”

You nodded, but he didn’t move.

“I went to your work just to see you, to see if you were okay. You acted like I didn’t exist, got other people to help me. You were laughing and smiling, it almost felt like you’d broken up with me. It’s what I convinced myself of, what I told the Hellfire guys, what I told Wayne. I hated knowing the breakup wasn’t bad for you.”

“You were so wrong,” you pushed on his chest. “You lied to me, lied to our friends, your uncle. How do I know you’re not lying right now?”

“Because I cried watching The Shining,” he laughed slightly, blinking away the rain. “I remembered the way you sat on the couch and made fun of it. I remembered the way you looked at me, like my eyes were the prettiest things you’d ever seen. I remembered that you really had loved me, even before you said it.

“Sweetheart, I cancelled Hellfire because how am I supposed to go play the game I love when I know that I’m still in love with you and I still want a forever with you?”

What you did next was probably the stupidest thing you’d ever done. That doesn’t mean you’d take it back or rewind time to do something different. It actually felt like the right thing to do, like it was meant to happen.

His lips were parted, eyes blinking away rain. His arms were still on either side of you, holding you hostage against the side of your car. He smelled of rain, and weed, and the dollar store shampoo he uses because he thinks it makes his hair extra soft. He was Eddie, your Eddie, as his eyes glanced at your lips for just a moment - a force of habit that had come back just by being in your presence. You didn’t wait to ask him this time. You just kissed him.

You hands were on his cheeks, curling around the back of his head to pull him in. The taste of rain mixed with his usual taste, only making you want to kiss him all that much more. He was solid, lips returning the favor. Arms moved to your waist, pushing your back against the car.

It was as if time had stopped. It poured out of you, the want of Eddie Munson, the love of your life, kissing you. It made you feel whole, like you’d gotten home from a really long trip. He couldn’t stop touching you, pulling and grabbing anything you’d let him. Oh, how you missed kissing him.

“I still hate you.” You told him as he finally pulled back. Lightning hit again, making you both jump. Forest Hills lit up curtesy of the electric shock, letting you see his lips curve.

“Can you hate me and keep kissing me like that?” He mumbled, kissing you again.

taglist: @whyisnicole @palah @pankowforlife @sugarminsss @yikeshood @spicytrashthe1st @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @toobsessedsstuff @moonlitgarbage @tbrxnnan and I can’t tag anyone else I’m sorry!!

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

���Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

[skinnyducky]

made for you // v.h.

hello.. im sorry i havent been posting. school has been keeping me busy but i wanted to post this. this idea comes from @yelenasdarling so thank you ! i recommend listening to halley’s comet by billie eilish (as well as the whole album) bc that’s the song that is being discussed in this (as well as many others), so yuh. enjoy ! and i promise i haven’t forgotten about party @ y/ns !

vinnie hacker x singer!fem!reader

Word Count: 1408, edited

WARNING: MAJOR FLUFF LUV

---------

As the year was coming to an end, so was your debut album. For months, you’d been working with the best producers, musicians, and doing endless promo for this album and within a few days, you’d be playing it for the label. Obviously because it is your first record, you’re protective over it. No one had heard it besides the people working on it. So, you were a bit nervous to let your pleading boyfriend, Vinnie, tag along to the studio with you.

It was Friday, and you two had been chilling in his room when your producer, Sarah, said she needed you to go over it before the label meeting. As you bid your goodbyes to Vinnie, informing him of the reason for your departure, he pouted. “Why can’t I come?” he nearly cried, giving you his puppy dog eyes. Because you couldn’t resist them—and you just can’t say “no” to him—you allowed him to come.

Now here the two of you were, in the studio and listening to Sarah go on and on about how long it took for her to finish mastering it. Your manager, Jen, had came too. She had to hear the album for herself also. She couldn’t have her client looking a mess in front of her bosses. Bad for business and her reputation.

“…and after an hour or two of making sure your vocals were clear, I finally finish the album.” Sarah explained. “Honestly, this is probably the best album I’ve produced in a minute, and I worked on SZA’s album.”

“That good?” Vinnie asked with a smirk, leaning against the studio door. “That’s sick. I���m ready to listen to it.”

As that sentence left Vinnie’s mouth, you felt your anxiety overcome you. “Are you sure, Sarah? There has to be some sort of adlib I need to rework or something. Can’t be ready so soon.”

“Y/n, it can’t get any better than this. This is a solid project. I should know, I spent days listening to it over and over again. Trust me, it’s ready.”

“Besides, it’s too late to rerecord now.” Jen added. “The label meeting is next Thursday, and we don’t have a week for Sarah to mix and master all over again. Once the label gives us the greenlight, if there’s anything to tweak, you can do it before you have to submit the final project. But until then, no changes and no additions.”

You sighed, nodded your head. It’s not that you were afraid of it not being perfect. You were more scared of what Vinnie would think. I mean, he’s the one who inspired the album; more than half of the songs are about him. His opinion meant everything to you, and if he didn’t like an inch of it…that would destroy you.

As you were sulking and picking at your chipped nail polish, Vinnie wandered over to you where you sat at the soundboard with Sarah. He leaned against it and smiled down at you. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, keeping your head down. He scoffed and chuckled. “Y/n, you’re playing with your nail polish. You always do that when you’re upset.”

He pulled you up and took you out of your seat before sitting down himself and placing you on his lap. “Tell Santa what’s up.” He joked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’m just nervous. This album means so much to me.”

“Completely understandable. It’s your first one, it should mean a lot to you.”

You shook your head. “It’s not just because of that. It’s also because it’s about you. The only reason you haven’t came with me to the studio until now is because I didn’t want you to hate anything on this, and it would kill me if you did.”

“Y/n, look at me”—you finally met his eyes for the first time—“I could never not like anything you do. Especially if it’s dedicated to me. That’s like throwing away a gift you gave me. I wouldn’t ever do that. So don’t think for a minute that I’d hate this. That’s literally impossible.”

You smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’re too good for me.”

“I know.” He laughed and turned to Sarah. “Play us the album!” He said dramatically, sending the producer into a fit of giggles.

She followed his orders and with a few clicks and the press of a button, the first song from your album rang out from the studio speakers. You watched timidly as Vinnie bobbed his head up and down as it went from track to track.

“This shit slaps!” He exclaimed as “Y/n Bossa Nova” played. He nearly about died during “Oxytocin”, claiming it to be god tier. Minutes went by until you got to the final track “Halley’s Comet”, and you were scared to play him this song.

While the other tracks were quite playful in nature, this one was different. The song was a bit cynical, but it was also like a love letter to Vinnie. Never before have you ever felt what you had with him. And at first that made you scared. But as the months went by and your relationship started to blossom, you realized he was the one for you. This was just your way of telling him that.

When it started, you looked everywhere but at Vinnie. It wasn’t just because you couldn’t bear to see the expression on his face, but also because this song was quite emotional. You didn’t want him to see you “being a little bitch” as you put it.

The sound of your soft vocals bounced off the walls and you felt Vinnie place his chin on your shoulder. His hold on you grew tighter as he swayed you two back forth. A small smile crept it’s way onto your face as you tried your best to stray away from crying.

“I’ve been loved before, but right now in this moment,” you sung, “I feel more and more like I was made for you…”

When those lyrics hit, you felt Vinnie stop swaying. Hell, you were pretty sure he had stopped breathing too. You didn’t know what to think about that; did he not like the song, is he shocked? What was he thinking and feeling? Shortly after, the song came to an end with you singing, “I think I might have fallen in love…what am I to do?”

And with that, the album finished. The room was silent, the only sound being your sniffles. Although that was broken when Sarah screamed. “Wasn’t that amazing!? Ugh, my power…I really outdid myself on this one.”

Thankfully, Jen understood the impact of that last song. “Sarah, why don’t we go get a Snickers or something from the vending machine?”

“I can’t eat anything fatty, Jen. You know this.”

Jen mouthed some profanities and threats at the woman causing her to shoot up from her chair and run out into the hallway. “We’ll leave you two alone for a minute.” Jen smiled, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Neither of you or Vinnie spoke and that somewhat was comforting. However, part of it made you feel insecure about the album, “Halley’s Comet” in specific. Out of all the songs, that’s the one you wanted him to like the most.

The silence soon grew uncomfortable, so you decided to be the first to speak. “Well, that was the album. What’d you think?”

He opened his mouth, but it was obviously he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I-I don’t know how to even put it in words.”

“That bad?” You sighed.

“No, never.” He laughed. “It was beautiful, all of it really. And that last song, that was amazing.”

You pursed your lips, hiding the grin wanting to break free. “You think so?”

“Yeah, it was definitely one of my favorites. To know I had that much of an impact on you, it’s really sweet. I didn’t think I could simp for you any harder than I do now.”

“Shut up!” you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

“It’s the truth!” he said, throwing his hands up in defense. “I love you, Y/n. I really do.”

“I love you too.” And with that, he laid a sweet and gentle kiss on your lips.

Pulling back, he said, “Oh and just so you know, I agree with you.”

“On what?”

“You were definitely made for me.”

[spacedlexi]

i always wondered if you ever read any violentine/twg fanfiction and if you have could you tell us your favorites? Or what tropes would you like to read? Idk I just really like this ship and since there was so little content I could find so i read a lot of shit 💀 but I hold a special care for it since it was one of the first fandoms I entered and finding out Clem was bi meant a lot to me cause you don't see a lot of bi representation that isn't like "I like fucking anything that moves🤩(Yea Im looking at you Elite)”.

So yeah I'd like to hear you thought of fanfiction and stuff.

i tried once or twice but didnt get farther than the first chapter or so on the few i tried 😔 i kinda for the most part stopped reading fic after high school to be fair, so im very particular about what i Do read when it comes to fic now. and on ao3 at least since im afraid of wattpad there really hasnt been anything that held my attention (at least in the past. like i said i havent tried looking in a couple years so who knows). i need plot/character development heavy stuff that i can really sink my teeth into and i didnt really find much of that... and the "tropes" i like are more determined by which characters im applying them to so i dont always like the same ones across the board

someone asked me this question a while ago and i asked for any fic recs at the time but i only got like.. one? im really not sure what the state of twdg fic is like honestly

DESPITE all that tho im still slowly slowly SLOWLY meticulously steadily working on my own oneshot that i WILL FINISH I SWEAR its over 20 pages currently and only like 2/3? done?? and half edited BUT it IS outlined so..... i just have to.. you know..... actually Finish it....

i posted some snippets from it a while ago (HERE) but here's a couple longer ones since ive written about 10 more pages (plus like 5 in outlines) since then. im Really particular about the flow of my writing which is like.. the main reason why i take so long to write.. gotta fix it until it Feels Right

A comfortable silence seemed to settle over them then. The wind outside the shack still blew harshly, whistling against the broken windows. But as the girls sat by the warm glow of the fire, and listened to the crackling of the burning logs, it was enough to melt their tension. At least a bit.

The silence continued until the fire began to dwindle with the last of the logs. "We're going to have to start burning those..." Clementine said as she looked at the loose boards they had kicked aside earlier.

"I got it," Violet said as she stood, not even giving Clementine a chance to move. As she grabbed a board and kicked hard at its center, trying to break it in two, Clementine twisted her mouth. Not at the other girl, but at herself. She was still getting used to her new limitations, and it frustrated her knowing there were just certain things that she couldn't or struggled to do now.

The boards had been sturdy once, but due to age and exposure, they had eroded enough that Violet was able to break them with relative ease. She threw a couple of the pieces on the fire and set the rest by the hearth as she returned to where she had been at Clementine's side. She gave her a soft, reassuring smile as the fire came back to life, and Clementine gave a soft smile in return, breaking her from her thoughts, if only momentarily.

She heaved a sigh as her eyes were drawn back to the missing portion of her left leg. She thought about the trek awaiting them in the morning, and her mouth twisted again. "Ugh, walking through all of that snow is gonna fuck up my leg..."

The soft smile on Violet's face became mischievous. "Don't worry, I can just carry you instead." She said it nonchalantly, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed her.

Clementine quirked her eyebrow in response to the bold statement, smiling skeptically as she laughed "Uh, aha, yeah right."

"What, don't think I can?" Violet responded, the look on her face unbothered by the other girls reaction. "Brody was the one who carried you to the school after you crashed and I'm, like, at least as strong as Brody was."

Clementine's face dropped at the revelation. "Wait-... Brody brought us back?"

"Uh..." Violet hesitated at the change in Clementine's voice. "Yeah... Her and Marlon. She was the only one he would ever take outside the safe zone." She explained, and as an aside to herself said "Huh, guess it makes sense now..."

The playful atmosphere had now quickly disappeared, only to be replaced with a quiet, somber one. In the short time Clementine had to get to know Brody, she felt they had started to become friends. However, there weren’t many good memories made between them, and so Clementine more easily remembered the bad ones.

She could still remember that stormy night in the cellar clearly, could remember the sounds of Brody's inhuman screeching. The hot blood on her hands as she fought against the turned girl for her life. The guilt sinking in her chest like a black hole as she looked over what she had done. What she had to do. Clementine mourned her in the way she mourned everyone else she had lost. And it never got any easier.

Violet watched Clementine as she internally fought through her feelings, and once again regretted her words. She didn't want to think about Brody, either. And felt guilty over unintentionally bringing those awful memories to the surface. Clementine told them what Marlon had done that night, yet never talked about what happened after. But Violet had helped the others with the bodies, had seen what Clementine was forced to do. She remembered the sight clearly, as clearly as she remembered feeling that Marlon got what he deserved.

--

"Maybe we should try to get some sleep before it gets cold in here..." Clementine suggested tentatively.

Violet shifted, stretching her arms out in front of her, catching the last of the heat from the hearth on her fingers. "We should use the bed, then. It'll at least be better than the floor. Plus, there's a blanket."

Violet stood up then, stretching her legs as Clementine looked up at her. "Are you sure that thing isn't completely rotted?"

"It should be okay. We only brought it in here a little over a year ago."

"'We'? Why?"

"Uh-" Violet started at that, averting her eyes. "Um... Minnie and I... we kinda... used to hang out here..."

"Oh..." Clementine wasn't sure what to say to that, but it did confirm her suspicions. So instead, she relented. "Okay."

But she hesitated, looking between her leg and her prosthetic where it still sat propped against the side of the fireplace. "Hmm..." Should she put it back on? The bed wasn't far...

"Here," Violet reached her hand out, noticing the hesitation, "let me help you."

Clementine eyed the outstretched hand, considering her options, and once again twisted her mouth at her new limitations. She kind of hated this. She had done everything on her own for so long, and now...

"C'mon, it's okay."

She looked back and forth between Violet's face and outstretched hand a few times before finally relenting. "...Fine." She really didn't want to lace up her prosthetic just to immediately take it off again.

Clementine took her hand, and Violet helped pull her up to stand. They leaned close as she found her balance, gripping tightly at Violet's shoulder with her free hand. It only took a short moment, and once Clementine stabled herself, her eyes locked with Violet's. They both started a bit when they noticed how close they had become, face to face.

"Aha. Um, you good?" Violet asked, slightly flushed.

"Yeah," Clementine said, hiding her blush better than the other girl. "Thanks."

[vonter-voman]

Awesome interview with Anne Collins, writer, story editor and main executive story consultant for the Wonder Woman TV series from the middle of Season 2 onwards (1977-1979)

Read the full interview here, courtesy from Marc Tyler Nobleman for his website Noblemania.

Some highlights:

How did you end up writing for Wonder Woman?

Somewhere in the process of writing three scripts for Hawaii Five-O in the mid-70s, the show’s Story Editor, Curtis Kenyon, helped me get an agent, John Schallert. Though I was working at a PR firm and living in Denver at the time, John successfully pitched me to the people at Wonder Woman, who were looking for a woman to join its writing staff. So I packed up my VW Rabbit, sublet my apartment, and drove out to LA, fully expecting to return within a month once they discovered how inexperienced and untalented I was.

But to my surprise, I discovered I could, in fact, hold my own when it came to working with and, frequently, heavily editing the work of the (mostly male) freelance writers to whom the show was giving assignments. The Supervising Producer, Bruce Lansbury, was such a joy to work with and so creative and sooo supportive that I stayed in LA for the next seven years and never looked back.

Did you pitch storylines on your own or as part of a team, or were writers assigned certain premises by producers?

Bruce, the studio and the network had a vision for the show, which in its second season saw it move from WWII into the ‘70s, so there was already an informal list of suggested and approved storylines. At that time TV programs were required to utilize freelance writers. We would contact writers we thought would “get” the show and assign a story area to them, though they were also free to pitch their own ideas if they wanted. I, too, could and did pitch ideas, of course, but as story editor I mostly helped outside writers develop their stories and would rewrite/polish their final drafts if/when necessary.

Any other funny/inspiring/weird anecdotes about your Wonder Woman experience?

There was one Saturday or Sunday early on in my Wonder Woman stint that I absolutely had to get into my office to write/rewrite something (this was eons before laptops, remember). However, to my horror, the key I was given to the WW office suite would not work. Desperate to get to my typewriter, and more than a little pissed at the key, I took the door handle with both hands and shook it in utter frustration. Causing the lock to break and the door to limp open. I went straight to my office and got to work.

Next thing I know, a wide-eyed security guard was peering at me from around the corner of my doorway, hand on his nightstick, ready to use it on whomever had broken into the suite. I apologized for breaking the door but it was an emergency. I just kept working, and he finally went away to get the door fixed. He also filed a report, so that come Monday everyone knew the story and thought it was quite amusing, and appropriate, that a woman employed by Wonder Woman had busted down a door.

At the time, did you reflect on the number of women vs. number of men writing for the show?

No, because at that time, there were very few women writing action-adventure, and there was also nowhere near the pressure to hire women and minorities back then that there is now. True, I was hired by WW largely because everyone, including Lynda, felt the show could only benefit from including “a woman’s POV,” but I’m not sure my gender ever really had a big influence on the scripts we churned out.

Did you interact with Lynda Carter, and if so, what was your impression of her? Did it change over time in any way?

Lynda was a sweetheart. We didn’t hang out, but our interactions were always pleasant and she always came across as genuine. She wasn’t hired because of her acting skills, and she no doubt knew that, which had to’ve made showing up for work every day somewhat terrifying. But by golly she did her best, and I have to say, whenever I happen to catch an episode, I’m struck with how likeable she comes across on screen. Not just because of her considerable physical beauty, but she has a nice, watchable presence. Probably because she is/was basically a sincerely nice person.

What is your favorite episode that you wrote and why?

“Phantom of the Roller Coaster,” probably because it was such a colorful arena (who doesn’t love amusement parks?) and I have an affinity for Raggedy Man-type stories. It started out as a single episode, but the shoot at Magic Mountain went so well that we made a two-parter out of it, though I forget when in the process that decision was made, or exactly how much more shooting was involved.

[dragonslayer-5fanfiction]

Telling Them You're Bi 2

Telling Them You're Bi 1

Telling Them You're Bi 3

Part 4

Okay here's part two. It only has two characters, which I guess is unusual for me, because I usually have three or more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. To the Anon, who requested the read more, I'm going to do it, so let me know what you think! Also not edited, so you know there's that.

TW: mentions of disowning, mentions of homophobic slurs, running, being late, head crashing into chin, being insecure about sexual orientation

Sugawara: You’ve known that you’re Bi, for a little while now, and have been pretty anxious. You want to tell Koushi, but something has been holding you back. Well, not something, you know exactly what it is. Rejection. You two haven’t been dating for an exceptionally long time, and as far as you know, he hasn’t had to deal with anything like this before.

While you on other hand have. You’ve had friends who are welcoming and loving, when you’ve come out to them. And you’ve had friends who’ve left you as well. The same goes for your family, immediate and extended. Some are very welcoming and others are not. You’ve even had a few who’ve disowned you.

You had one boyfriend before Koushi. He was a rather small minded bastard, so insignificant that he doesn't deserve to be named. After you two had been dating for a while, you finally felt comfortable in telling him that you’re bi. As soon as you finished talking, he began yelling, calling you homophobic slurs, insisting that he couldn’t trust you, and that you should be fine with him cheating on you. Well, he called it something different, but that doesn’t mean that you were comfortable with it. And in that situation you should be comfortable with it. As you insisted you weren’t he broke up with you on the spot.

That day you went home crying. You were broken in more ways than one. It took all your friends and a couple of weeks before you were willing to leave the house. Needless to say after that you shied away from romantic relationships. Not willing to get hurt like that again. In the midst of this Suga quite literally came crashing into your life. He took time and befriended you. He made you feel comfortable and when he expressed his interest in you, and you said you weren’t ready, he backed off. He told you he would wait as long as you needed, and continued to be your friend. A couple of months ago, you went to Suga and told him that you were ready, but things would need to be slow. He was more than willing.

Today, you two had decided that for your date, you would have a picnic at the park. The food was amazing, and having finished a while ago, you two are enjoying each other’s presence. You’re sitting against the tree while cherry blossoms fall all around you. You’re reading Dante’s Inferno to Koushi, while he rests his head on your lap. The hand not occupied by the book is running through Koushi’s hair. He gently grabbed your hand and brought it down to press a kiss to your palm.

“I love you.” He says looking up at you. You froze, as the words just hung in the air. Everything was tense, and you’re not even sure that you’re breathing at this point. He felt everything tense and pulled the book down to see your face.

“No you don’t.” You pulled away completely.

“Wha-yes I do.” He paused sitting up, “What do you mean?”

“I mean you don’t really love me.” He looked like his heart had been shattered, so you looked away. You couldn’t bear to see him like that, and know that you’re the cause of it.

“You don’t. I just, I don’t think that this is going to work out between us.” You said still avoiding eye contact, and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait. Wait. Please. Let’s talk about this.”

“Look, I really need to go.” You said jerking your thumb over your shoulder.

“I think that I deserve an explanation.” He said gently, grabbing your hand.

“Kou, please.” He gripped your hand a little tighter.

“Please.”

“I have to tell you something, and you’re not going to like me after.” You began fiddling with his fingers. “Quite a few people don’t like me after.” You mumbled.

“Don’t you think I should decide that for myself?” He asks, placing his finger under your chin to get you to look at him.

“I guess.” You shrugged eyes filled with tears.

“So?”

“I’m Bisexual.”

“That’s it?” You nodded. “Sorry to break this to you, but I still love you. I’m just not leaving and you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Re-really?” You asked through a sob.

“Really.”

“Th-thank you.” You crashed into him sobbing loudly. You shoulder sagged as you heaved breaths in and out, thankful for how much he loves you. “I love you too.”

Kageyama: You became friends with Hinata pretty quickly after school started. He’s so easy to befriend. However, being friends with Hinata often puts you in close proximity to Kageyama.

To be honest, he scared you at first. He never seemed to smile, and is so intense about everything he does. One day with Hinata, you mentioned that you thought he hated you to which he quickly refuted, before snapping his mouth closed. Turns out he’s just emotionally constipated. This made it extremely difficult when you both developed feelings for each other.

“Hey, before I go, Kageyama would like you to meet him after practise.” Hinata says before dashing off to practise. Despite being in the horticulture club, you didn’t have any meetings today. So instead you decided to wait in the library and get some homework done. You became so engrossed in your homework, that you lost track of time.

“Did you tell them?” Kageyama asked, pacing in front of the gym.

“Of course I did.” Hinata replied.

“Then they’re not coming. I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Just give them a few more minutes.” Hinata tried to reason.

“I knew it. I knew they didn’t feel the same way, and I let you talk me into this!” Kageyama turned on Hinata.

“No, no, just give-”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” You called running towards the gym. “Oh good, you’re still here. I am so sorry!” You said bowing at them. “I got engrossed in my homework and lost track of time.”

“See I told you!” Hinata beamed, while Kageyama fixed him with a nasty glare. “I’ll just be going now.” He said while giving Kageyama two thumbs up.

“Kageyama, I’m so sorry! Hinata said you wanted to meet with me after practise, and so went to the Library-”

“The Library? You’re in the horticulture club though.” Kageyama cut in.

“Well, yeah.”

“But your club doesn’t meet in the Library.”

“What? I didn’t have a club today.” You explained.

“But you waited.”

“Well yeah, you asked me to, and you’re worth waiting for.” You smiled at the blush that bloomed across his face. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, we’ve- I- and it’s long time- you don’t…”

“Kageyama!” You cut him off, “You’re not making any sense. Take a moment to gather your thoughts and then tell me.” He took a few deep breaths before trying again.

“I like you. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He bowed so quickly and sharply, that he smashed into your chin. “Sorry!” He yelled, jerking up right. “Are you okay? I’ve messed this up haven’t I?”

“Sweetie, sweetie, hey. It’s alright. I’m fine, and I would love to go on a date with you. Just tell me when.” You said rubbing your chin as the pain eases. His eyes widened, surprised that you agreed. “But there is something that I should probably tell you beforehand. It might change your mind.”

“Whatever it is, I can handle it!” He said full of determination.

“Okay, well, I’m Bi.” His head turned to the side in confusion.

“Bi? So you can speak more than one language? I can too!” He declared.

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t define you as bilingual. Your English isn’t that good.” You paused squeezing his bicep, “And while I am bilingual, I meant bi, as in Bisexual.”

“What?” His head turned even farther to the side and his brows furrowed even more.

“It means I’m attracted to masculine and femimine presenting people.”

“Okay?” He still sounded confused. “I’m masculine.”

“Does that bother you?” You asked.

“No. Should it?”

“No. But it does bother some people.” You explained.

“Oh, well it doesn’t bother me.” He paused reaching for your hand before pulling back. “It’s late and dark. Is it okay if I walk you home?”

“I’d love that, and on the way we schedule our date.” You said lacing your fingers with his.

[elliotl]

so i did a thing and asked you all for dialogue prompts and i would either write c!rivals, c!drunz OR mix of them so this is the prompt by @zenaeco and i loved writing it. [not revised or edited]

part one | part two | part three

Eh Just A Little Banter

“He’s not going to talk,” Punz whispered and Techno spared him a glance. Dream just clenched his fist tighter as he sat on the chaise in front of them. He kept his book aside and looked at them.

“What? We’re gonna play therapy or something?” Dream asked, ridiculed by Techno’s behaviour.

“Well he better start now then,” Techno looked back at Dream again ignoring the earlier comment from him. Dream wasn't able to read Techno. He wasn't sure what was going on in his friend's mind.

Dream tilted his head slightly as he held eye contact with Technoblade. “Otherwise?”

“Nothing. Maybe you’ll just see me helping you as just a resource provider.” Even Punz looked at Technoblade surprised at his words. Techno looked at the floor. He hoped this worked. He hoped because he would never abandon Dream.

“Come on man,” Dream spoke, taken aback. “You can't pull this shit.”

“I can actually, if you’re going to be stubborn and be angry at yourself while also punching me almost everytime we fight,” Techno stood up from his chair abruptly, anger and sadness alike on his face. “You need to talk. You need to talk to us.”

Techno took a few steps towards Dream, standing in the middle of the room as he looked at his rival very subtly trying to stop the shaking of his hands. The piglin hybrid calmed himself down a bit.

“Each scar tells a story, some we are desperate to forget, others mark the beginning of something beautiful, you know. I for one have come to terms with my past, have you?” Technoblade looked back at Punz who just gave a nod. The mercenary was quiet this time like most of the time. Piping in only to smack some logic into their heads.

Dream clenched his jaw. His heart was threatening to burst out of chest. He would rather punch Techno like several times he had done before when they were frustrated with each other than tell the truth. Spill his heart out. He stood up and started to walk towards the door.

“Don't walk away,” Punz stated calmly. “Don't walk away this time. You never know you’ll regret that you never talked to us, Dream.”

“Dream please. You know I'd never say please to you so this is pretty serious man. Have you looked at yourself? You’re goal yeah we’re working towards, the three of us against the world, it but it is not going as you want and you know it. You know it and you’re frustrated at yourself but you won't budge. You stubborn idiot,” Technoblade stated calmly, shaking his head. “Because maybe Punz doesn't know what happened in there. I doubt you told him anything. But I know. You told me and I have seen with my own eyes. The cell, the stench of flesh and blood. Everything.”

Dream turned to face Techno, jaw clenched as he tried to compose himself. “Yeah? Why dont you speak about how painful was it when the anvil crushed you to death, how it felt to be crushed in pieces or how painful it was when Quackity cut you open with shears or how your stupid heart was so broken when Ranboo died that you didnt even space me a glance and left me out in the cold?!”

Techno glared at Dream. “Dont-”

“No stop,” Dream cut him off and looked at Punz. “and you. You little shit. Why don't you speak about how it felt to be out of control and serve some higher power while you were supposed to keep an eye on things.”

“That's a low blow man. It happened when I was investigating the egg. You know i was fucking worried cause you wouldnt show up at all and all the times i waited. You know what happened, Dream. Fuck you making this about us. Why don't you speak, huh? I don't know what happened in that stupid goddamn prison and you came out looking like a fucking mess. I can assume things and this stupid man here doesnt tell me anything,” Punz pointed at Techno. “Says it's not my story to tell. Guess what I should be mad at BOTH OF YOU. YOU BOTH KEEP ME IN THE DARK.”

Punz was fuming. His blue eyes glaring at Techno and Dream angrily who were taken aback at the outburst. Dream hurt him. For real this time. “I have to handle your banter. Be here to patch up both of you because you’re fucking whiny little bitches who refuse to acknowledge anything. Just fucking speak!”

“This is not about me,” Techno frowned.

“Well guess what it is now!” Punz snapped.

What are you doing? We need him to talk, Techno mouthed to Punz who just ignored him. “So Dream… you going first cause man it’ll suck if something happened to any one of us while we’re out doing anything. Nothing’s going to happen to me but as we know you both are always targeting someone somewhere. So fucking find me when you decide to speak.”

Punz stormed towards the door as two pairs of eyes followed his actions hoping for him to stop. The door banged shut as Punz left the house leaving the rivals standing looking at each other.

“So..” Dream started. “I’ll go get him.”

“I’ll get the fireplace working,” Technoblade looked awkwardly as the fireplace and nodded.

“Yeah yeah do that,” Dream walked backwards towards the door.

“And bring those rabbit feet from outside. And wear your cloak before you go out.”

“Yeah. Stew. Punz likes rabbit foot stew. You get that armour we were working on for him..,” Dream hastily fixed the cloak around him.

“I’ll get it upstairs. You go.”

“Okay be right back with mister grumpy.”

“No no. Don't say that to his face.”

Dream chuckled. “I’ll try not to”

Dream gave Techno an apologetic look before closing the door behind him.

“Bruh,” Techno sighed as he went to open the hatch to the basement.