#I think I change the tense in this like 10 times but listen im tired and this aint getting a grade | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shhhhyoursister · 3 years ago

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enemies to lovers/band!au

okay yeah heres the final one, the big boy, the one im probably proudest of, i really really hope you guys like it!!

Matteo was lucky that the conductor liked him, because showing up 10 minutes late to the first rehearsal of the year was bad, even for him. Matteo wasn’t known to be the most responsible member of the band, and usually the only thing he could be counted on to do right every rehearsal was show up, and show up on time. He adjusted his grip on his baritone case as he sped down the hall of the music department, cursing as he checked the time on his phone again, and when he got to the door of the theater they rehearsed in, he cracked it open as quietly as he could.

“Ah, Matteo!” the conductor yelled from the stage, and Matteo flinched before stepping fully into the room, “You decided to show up! I was worried you quit after playing that really loud wrong note at the concert last semester.”

“Which one?” Matteo joked back, knowing that if it was any other professor he would have just apologized and rushed to put his instrument together. He was on a first name basis with Rick, who was probably the most laid back member of the music faculty. Some of the players on stage laughed at the exchange, and Matteo smiled as he popped his case open.

“Just hurry up, we do actually need a full band to rehearse,” Rick said, turning back to his stand with a chuckle, “and poor David looks like he’s going to explode if we don’t start soon.”

Matteo rolled his eyes. As if that would make him set his baritone up faster. He ignored the second wave of laughter that followed the conductor’s comment and grabbed the folder with his music, and made his way onto the stage. He took his seat next to the other baritones, in the third chair, and tried to ignore the glare he could feel coming from the clarinet section.

Matteo was a little upset that he had missed his favorite part of each rehearsal; before Rick got there, when people were still whispering to their stand partners, some quietly tuning their instruments or practicing difficult measures, some tapping their feet and counting out the beats. It felt more alive than when everyone was coming together to play one piece, and while Matteo loved the sound of a full band playing beautiful music, he really needed that calm before the storm. It reminded him that the music that he listened to came from people like him, who had to practice and tune and count and focus to produce the notes and phrases that seemed to flow so naturally.

He risked a glance over at David when Rick asked him to play a note so he could tune the band to it, and, like always, felt a little bit of a shiver run through him when he watched David take a deep breath before playing out a long, perfectly in-tune note. He knew it wasn’t only because of the sound of the clarinet, which Matteo secretly thought was the nicest sounding of all the wind instruments. Although David couldn’t stand him, and Matteo didn’t have too many kind feelings towards him either, it was hard to deny that first of all, David was an amazing musician, and second of all, much less importantly, he was really hot.

Matteo didn’t feel bad for thinking it. Every person in the band who was into men was into David. Matteo would hear girls whispering about him while they were setting up their flutes and oboes, and there was the one guy in the saxophone section who had been trying to get his number for a year. It was old news, but Matteo couldn’t help himself from staring at David when he had long measures of rests, and had to admit that David was the cause of his distraction during some rehearsals.

Rick finished tuning the band, and had them flip to the piece that Matteo was the least confident in. He looked up and took a breath with the whole band when the conductor brought his arms up, and dropped his eyes back to the notes a split second before the downbeat.

Inevitably, Matteo got to a part in the song where he had four measures of rest, and he leaned back in his chair a bit and stretched his neck out. He was counting on his fingers and tapping his foot to the tempo and managed to come back in at the right time, only for Rick to cut them off as he flipped aggressively through the papers on his stand.

“Where is the second page? Why do I only have half of the score here?” He asked angrily, and then huffed and said, “Okay, everyone take out the next piece. David, take over for me.”

Matteo rolled his eyes as Rick walked off the stage, and David took his place in front of the band. David always got the most cocky, smug look whenever he was asked to conduct, and some people rolled their eyes because they knew David was harsher, faster, and much less forgiving than Rick was.

“Okay guys, remember we tried to play this last semester, but some people couldn’t keep up,” his eyes flicked to Matteo, who just shrugged, and then smiled as the frown on David’s face deepened and he continued, “as long as everyone watches me, we’ll be able to get through it. Let’s start at the beginning.”

That won’t be too hard, Matteo thought to himself, and smiled before bringing his lips to the mouthpiece.

They got through the first half of the song with no issues, David going slower than usual to let people warm up to playing it again. Matteo knew that the only reason he hadn’t messed up yet was because his eyes were glued to his sheet music, but he saw that the tempo was changing in a few measures so he would have to look up. Once he did, he caught sight of the serious expression on David’s face, his eyes scanning over the band and darting down to the score in front of him, his arms waving and emphasizing different beats in a fluid and practiced way, keeping the tempo while cuing the other instruments to come in.

“Stop, stop! You were supposed to come in there, baritones, what happened? Are we playing too slow for you?”

Matteo (and everyone else) knew that when David was yelling at the baritones, he was really yelling at Matteo. His animosity was known amongst the other students in the band, so they weren’t surprised to hear a critique aimed at that section of the low brass. That was confirmed when Matteo looked up to see David glaring directly at him, his hand that wasn’t holding the baton clenched tightly around the stand.

They got through the rest of the song with no incidents, Matteo purposefully playing quieter to avoid making any loud mistakes. Rick came back just as David was berating them for speeding up at the end, and he clapped him on the shoulder before waving the missing pages of his score in the air.

“Thank you, David, for re-traumatizing your bandmates. Let’s go back to the first piece, and I promise I won’t yell as much as he did.”

The band laughed and David chuckled (at least he’s self aware, Matteo thought to himself) as he took his seat, with one final glance in Matteo’s direction. They could both see each other from where they were sitting, David being at the end of the second row and Matteo diagonal across from him in the back. He watched as David settled back into his seat and picked his clarinet up, his tongue flicking out to wet the reed, and when David’s eyes shifted back over to him he blushed and looked down at the floor. He scowled, angry that he got caught staring.

***

He struggled through the first week, playing confidently when he could and quieting down whenever he got lost until he could figure out where they were again. Sometimes he found himself so confused he would whisper out of the corner of his mouth, “Where are we?” to his stand partner, and she would roll her eyes before pointing out the correct measure.

The next week of rehearsals, Matteo started out on a much better foot. He was running early as opposed to late, and he hummed to himself as he strolled calmly down the hall leading to the theater. There was one measure of their newest song that he just couldn’t get right, and he flipped open his folder as he walked, knowing that the page with that measure would be at the front. He stopped paying attention to where he was walking, tapping out the beat of the notes on his hip, and just as he turned the corner into the room he crashed into someone leaving, and heard an annoyed, “Are you serious?”

He tensed when he recognized David’s voice, and looked up to see the exact glare he was expecting aimed directly at him. He almost missed the stack of papers that David had dropped, and only noticed when one sheet landed perfectly on top of his open folder.

“Sorry,” Matteo muttered, not knowing what else to say, “let me help.”

“No, I’ll do it,” David snapped back, the glare on his face darkening a little as he snatched the paper on top of Matteo’s folder and said, “I had them organized by section, and by part. You’d just fuck it up. Go set up.”

Matteo took a deep breath through his nose, tired of being torn down every single time David spoke to him, and he took another breath before glaring back and saying, “I wouldn’t fuck it up. I know how sheet music works.”

“Yeah, but if Rick wanted you doing any of this I’m sure he would have asked,” David scoffed, kneeling down so he could gather the papers together, “but he didn’t.”

Matteo bit his lip as felt something angry building in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t professional or smart of him to do but he couldn’t help but bite back, “Look, we all know that you’re just using us to set yourself up for the future, and that’s fine, but it doesn’t give you the excuse to be a fucking asshole all the time.”

He stormed off before he could see David’s reaction, and set his baritone up with trembling fingers. He was already in his seat and tuned up by the time David stalked into the theater with all of the papers, and Matteo watched with a smug grin as David quietly apologized to Rick for being late before handing off the sheet music and taking his seat. He grabbed his clarinet, his fingers pressing down on the keys harder than was probably good for them, and shot Matteo one final, piercing glare before turning to his music. Matteo smiled to himself as the conductor got everyone’s attention.

***

Things got a little more tense after that.

Getting even more on the bad side of the most talented, and most respected (and most feared) musician in the band was not Matteo’s best idea, but he had no idea how to fix it, and didn’t even know if he cared enough to.

Matteo didn’t know exactly what he was going to do once he graduated, but assumed that he’d figure something out. Pit bands were always looking for fresh talent, so he assumed that he would join one of those and get some menial job on the side while he waited to see where his life would lead. He knew that David, on the other hand, had a plan, and it seemed like their interaction in the hallway led David to believe that Matteo was the one thing standing in his way.

Another week of rehearsals went by, Matteo trying his best not to mess up, and failing almost every session. He knew that his conductor was starting to get a little frustrated, and he didn’t know how to explain that his new bout of issues weren’t coming from a lack of understanding the music; it was just difficult to play when you could feel someone openly glaring at you anytime the first clarinets had rests in the music. He and David hadn’t spoken or interacted at all since the incident in the hallway. They had never really spoken before that, so it wasn’t too unusual, but that amount of glaring was new.

And after a day or two, Matteo started glaring back. He would only do it when David wasn’t looking at him, either focused on the music or counting or watching the conductor, and it felt like the smallest form of retaliation that Matteo was willing to participate in. He knew that he couldn’t talk back to Rick, and he was doing all he could to avoid having to actually speak with David, so the glaring was a good alternative.

It was also a bit of a problem, the glaring. Sometimes Matteo would get lost in his own anger, resulting in him getting lost in the music, and Rick would stop the band and tell the baritones to pay attention to the music, not their bandmates, and Matteo would whip his head back to his music, his cheeks red at being caught.

It came to a head during one rehearsal, the first rehearsal since the glaring had started where Rick had to step out of the room. He handed David his baton and walked off with a wave of his hand, and Matteo noticed David smirking in his direction as he took up the position in front of the band.

“Okay, we’re going to start at measure 46,” David said, his eyes yet again scanning over every member of the band, squinting a little as they passed over Matteo, “the low brass has really been struggling with this section, and I’m going to take it faster so we can see exactly who is having trouble.”

Matteo’s eyes widened as he looked over the part David was referencing, realizing quickly that it was the hardest set of measures for the baritone section out of all of their pieces. He looked up again, trying to look determined despite the nerves starting to make his fingers twitch on the valves of his baritone, and caught David smirking at him again. David raised the baton, and Matteo lifted his baritone to his mouth and tried to focus his eyes on the music.

He managed to play through the first few measures correctly, but his nerves got the best of him and he messed up in one of the worst ways you can mess up as a musician; playing during a full-band rest. He felt his entire body tense up as half the band turned to stare at him, and he knew that it was the perfect excuse for David to go off on him.

“I heard that in the baritones, don’t let me hear it again.” David said sternly, the tip of the baton pointing right at Matteo. He looked mad, but there was something slightly encouraging there too, like he was trying to give Matteo another chance.

Matteo was surprised but grateful that his mistake didn’t send David into a fit and really tried to take that second chance and run with it. They started playing again, and Matteo made it through that measure, and then managed to mess up on the next one. He held one note too long and then played a sharp instead of a flat, and David didn’t stop the band but his head flicked to Matteo and he gave him a look that made his fingers freeze, and it took him a measure to come back in because for some reason that look scared him more than the many critiques and looks he had gotten in the past. David looked furious, as if Matteo was messing up intentionally.

They played through the rest of the section, Matteo getting less tense the more measures he played right, and just as they reached the last measure Rick came back into the theater, the door creaking a little behind him, but enough that it distracted Matteo, who not only played the last note wrong, but he felt his face heat up at the monstrous honk that came out the bell of his instrument.

“Matteo!” David snapped, and his other hand grabbed the top half of the baton and quickly bent it, snapping that as well.

Most of the band gasped, Matteo included. David seemed shocked himself, staring down at the fractured wood in his hands. Rick walked up to him and without saying a word, grabbed the two pieces, and turned to face the band with a stoic expression.

“I think I’ll call it for today, everyone. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, before dropping a hand onto David’s shoulder and looking up at Matteo and saying, “You two, in my office.”

Matteo gulped, and tried to ignore the look on David’s face as he got out of his seat and made his way over to his case. He put his baritone away slowly, watching as the rest of the band filtered out through the main doors, some shooting him sympathetic looks as they walked out. He might not have been the best member of the band, but he was nice enough that most people liked him enough, and probably felt bad knowing that he was about to get screamed at. He looked away when he saw David walk into Rick’s office hot on his heels, already saying something that would probably get Matteo in more trouble.

He made his way over to the office once he had all of his stuff together, and took a deep breath before knocking on the door and walking in. He entered and saw Rick sitting at his desk, looking annoyed, and David standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he had just finished ranting, his face red and his chest heaving, and he turned to fix Matteo with a glare as he walked into the room.

“I don’t know why two of my best musicians hate each other as much as you guys do,” he started, and Matteo’s eyes widened a bit at the bluntness of his statement along with the compliment, “but you need to work it out before next week.”

“Sir, I don’t know if I’d say he’s one of the best-” David started, his voice hiding the hint of a pretentious laugh, and before thinking about it Matteo cut him off.

“You don’t know shit about how I play.”

David turned to him with tight lips and said, “Well, I’ve conducted you before, so I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah, how could I forget being verbally abused.”

“It wasn’t abuse, if you aren’t going to play right I’m going to say something and I’m sorry if I don't sugarcoat it. I focus on being right, not on being nice.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Matteo muttered under his breath, and just as David turned to him to snap back at him, Rick clapped his hands together, loudly.

“Okay, I know what we’re going to do to fix this.”

***

That was how Matteo found himself the next day, an hour before band was supposed to start, during his only free period of the day, making his way to the music building so he could get to the practice rooms. He was walking slow, making sure to be on time but exactly on time, because he didn’t want to spend a second longer with David than he had to.

To their chagrin, Rick decided that the best way for the two to get along was for David to help Matteo figure out the parts of the music that he was struggling with. He had set up mandatory twice a week private sessions for both of them. Matteo had a feeling they wouldn’t make it past the first week without screaming at each other.

Matteo got to the door of the room he was meant to meet David in, and he could hear shuffling so he knew David was there already. He rolled his eyes and braced himself before pushing into the room.

“Put your instrument together,” David said, not even looking at Matteo as he set two chairs up in front of a stand, “ and get your music out. Let’s not be here any longer than we have to be.”

David finally turned around when Matteo didn’t move, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo had been expecting the hostility, and knew what he wanted to say in response.

“If we’re being forced to do this,” he said calmly, dropping his baritone case on the chair and popping it open, “I’m not going to let you be a dick to me. You need to be here just as much as I do. If you’re mean I’ll walk out, and then we’re both fucked. Don’t test me.”

He turned and started setting his baritone up, not waiting for David to react or respond to what he said. He only looked up at him once he sat in the chair and had his music on the stand, and he was surprised to see David look down at the ground, his face almost completely neutral except for the corners of his lips, which were twitching up a little.

“Fine,” David said, sitting down in the other chair, moving his leg quickly when his knee bumped into Matteo’s, “Play it right and I won’t be a dick.”

Matteo rolled his eyes but figured that was the best he was going to get, so he took a deep breath before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.

He played through the first few measures that David pointed at, trying to be as quick as he could while still following the tempo David was tapping out and playing the notes correctly. He knew that he had nowhere to hide if he messed up. Not that he really did during their bigger rehearsals, but he also felt much more confident playing by himself. He knew he wasn’t going to mess up the timing of anything, but he was worried about a set of measures near the end that had a beat that was so complicated he couldn’t figure it out.

He messed up right away when they got to it and he stopped, expecting David to make some harsh comment that would have him snapping back, but was surprised when his only reaction was, “Go back a few measures, try it again.”

He tried again and messed it up the same way, and then tried again, before putting his baritone down with a huff. He was frustrated at himself for messing it up, especially for messing it up in front of David, knowing that there was no way he wouldn’t say something sarcastic or rude after Matteo messed up for the third time.

“Why are you counting it like that?” David asked, his voice surprisingly devoid of any mocking or cruel tone. He sounded genuinely curious, but Matteo was still wary.

“I don’t know, because that’s how it looks?” He answered quickly, rolling his eyes, shifting uncomfortably under his horn.

“If I’m promising not to be a dick, you need to promise to take this seriously,” David said, turning to look directly at Matteo for the first time since the lesson had started, “I know you don’t really care about all this, but I do, so if that means teaching you how to fucking count I’ll do it. Now, play it again, but right.”

“Who says I don’t care?” Matteo asked, keeping his baritone firmly in his lap, “And I know how to count. That measure just makes no fucking sense.”

“Yes it does, you just aren’t counting it right,” David said, his voice tight, and he took a breath before saying more calmly, “here, give me your horn, I’ll show you.”

Matteo hesitated before handing it over, and he sighed a little in relief when David took Matteo’s mouthpiece off and took another one out of his bag.

Matteo was always impressed at the sound that David was able to pull out of any instrument he touched. There were multiple times where their conductor would ask David to grab an extra trumpet or sax or flute or set of mallets for a marimba, and would shove him wherever the band needed extra help. The only reason he never sent him to sit with Matteo’s section was because they didn’t have any extra horns, and Matteo was beyond grateful for that.

David pointed at the measure, and said, “See, you’re playing this,” he played out the beat that Matteo had been playing and then stopped and said, “but that amount of notes doesn’t fit in the measure, you’re adding an extra one in the middle. It’s supposed to sound like this,” he raised the baritone to his lips again and played out the measure, tapping his foot loudly as he continued playing so Matteo could hear how that measure fit into the rest of the phrase.

He gave Matteo the horn back after switching the mouthpieces again, and Matteo hesitated before starting to play again, and when he got to the measure and played it the way David showed him, it flowed perfectly into the next one and he even saw David smile a little.

“Yeah, you got it that time,” David said, and Matteo smiled back at him before turning back to his music as David said, “now let’s fix this other part.”

***

After a couple of weeks of the private sessions, Matteo was starting to sense a pattern. They would be completely civil during their one-on-one sessions, David only critiquing when necessary and only with comments that were actually helpful, and then they would get to band and it would start all over again. Matteo would get lost, Rick would snap at his section, he would look over and see David glaring at him or shaking his head in disappointment.

He didn’t know why it was getting to him in a way that it hadn’t before. He always knew that David was a little tougher on him than others, but he had really been hoping that the private sessions would stop the glares and the looks and the scoffs whenever he messed up. If anything, the private sessions only made the actual rehearsals worse.

The second boiling point was reached their third week of the private sessions. Matteo had sat through his perfectly cordial hour with David before band, and was even looking forward to playing that day. He felt like he had finally nailed the set of measures that he and David had been working on so he was excited for Rick to hear him play it right. He was so giddy about it that he even smiled when he caught David looking at him from across the band. David had raised a confused eyebrow at him before shifting his gaze back to the front of the band, and Matteo blushed and looked down at the ground, feeling a little silly.

Again, after a little while the conductor had to step away, and again David took his place at the stand, and picked up the baton. He looked right at Matteo as he told the band that they were going to start a few measures before the one Matteo had been messing up, and he sat up a little straighter and returned the look, nodding when David finished speaking. David nodded the slightest bit back at him before raising his arms, and Matteo breathed with the rest of the band before bringing his mouthpiece up to his lips.

And it was like nothing had changed. Matteo found himself getting lost watching David’s waving his arms in all directions, wild but completely in control of himself and the band. He missed one note and David’s eyes flicked to him, and held there as Matteo panicked and stumbled his way through the measure that he had spent two weeks of private lessons fixing.

He saw David’s jaw clench and he cut the band off with a sharp wave of his hand, before turning his full body in Matteo’s direction to say, “So the last few weeks have been a total waste of my time?”

Matteo didn’t think before standing up and walking off the stage, and out of the theater. He ignored the whispers and looks that followed him out, didn’t think about when he was going to be able to go back and get his case and bag and music, and he walked to the hallway of practice rooms and entered one, slamming the door behind him.

***

He emailed Rick and got permission to skip rehearsal the next day, the conductor ending the email with We really need to figure this out before your issues with David end up hurting the rest of the band. Matteo had read the response and collapsed back into bed, glaring over at his baritone (in the case, his roommate and friends brought his stuff out for him after he left).

It was also the first night of the first concert in the music department. Matteo wasn’t performing but he was required to go, and as he got himself ready in his appropriate concert attire, he worried over the fact that David was going to be there, to perform and to watch. Matteo couldn’t think of something he’d like to do less than watch the dude who embarrassed him in front of their entire band perform and get endless praise for it.

Matteo sat quietly next to his friends throughout the concert, and when David walked onto the stage, he felt himself tense up. His best friend Jonas, a trumpet player who was more than aware of the situation in and out of rehearsal, put a hand on his leg and squeezed, trying to offer a bit of comfort. Matteo smiled tightly at him as David lifted his clarinet to his lips and took a deep breath.

No matter how much Matteo hated him, he couldn’t ignore the fact that David was the best clarinet player he had ever heard. It was like his body and his clarinet were formed together, the way he breathed sound through it and moved around it, how quickly he could run his fingers over the keys and play the most complicated string of notes without a single flaw. Matteo found himself entranced by the song David played, and he opened his eyes when the last note faded out into the otherwise silent theater, and he watched as David kept his clarinet up for a beat after the song finished before his eyes opened, and they looked directly into Matteo’s as the audience clapped around him.

He looked away as quickly as he could, ignoring the face Jonas made at his sudden movement, and tried to focus his attention completely on the girl who stepped up next with her violin. He only let his eyes flick to David once more before the concert was over, and while his view was obscured because David was sitting a few rows ahead of him, Matteo could see his fingers twitching in his lap, probably resisting the urge to make the player follow his lead. The concert was over after that last girl, and Matteo turned to his friends quickly to stop himself from staring in David’s direction again.

Coincidentally, (or not at all) the night of the first concert in the music department was also the night of the first party being held by some people in the percussion section, a couple of guys who had a big house that was perfect for hosting a bunch of drunk but mild-mannered music majors.

Matteo had barely even wanted to go, knowing that his reputation amongst the rest of the band was not a great one. He wasn’t hated, but most only knew of him because of the amount of times per rehearsal the conductor would have to stop and critique the baritones (him) or tell the baritones (him) what measure they were on, and now because of all the new drama with David. He also didn’t want to face his bandmates after walking out during the last rehearsal, but the pushing and prodding of his friends made him reluctantly agree.

“Dude, we’re gonna get you so fucked up you can’t even think about what an asshole Schreibner is,” Carlos said as they made their way to the house.

Matteo snorted as they turned onto the correct block, and they quickly spotted the house that was holding the party. There were lights and music loud enough that they could hear it down the street, and Carlos and Abdi started whooping before running over to it.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” Jonas said when Matteo hesitated near the front door.

Matteo waited another second before shoving into the house, and throwing back over his shoulder, “Who cares about that asshole, I want to drink!”

And drink he did. Matteo was on his third beer after only twenty minutes, and he was considering it a win that he hadn’t seen David yet. He could feel himself getting more drunk, and didn’t know what he would even say to David if he saw him. He was glad that the little corner of the room he and his friends had grabbed seemed to be pretty hidden away.

Matteo was handed a joint after a little while and he grabbed it quickly, sticking the end in his mouth and taking a deep hit. He closed his eyes as he blew the smoke out his nose, and took another hit as he opened his eyes slowly, and saw David walk into the room. He didn’t seem to notice Matteo though, seemingly focused on getting to someone that was standing in the opposite corner.

“I didn’t know that David and Leonie are friends,” Carlos said quietly, staring over at the two, “she’s in the orchestra with Kiki. I heard she’s just like David but worse.”

“Matteo would love her, then,” Jonas said, ruffling his hair, and he flipped him off before taking another hit and passing the joint along.

“Why are talented and attractive people such assholes,” Matteo said, and when the three other boys turned to him, their eyes wide, he asked, “what?”

“Did you just say something nice about David?” Abdi asked with a grin, and Matteo rolled his eyes as the boys all oooohed.

“Me saying he’s attractive and talented isn’t nice, especially when that was the lead up to me calling him an asshole,” Matteo said, grabbing the joint when it was handed back to him, “I don’t have a single nice thing to say about David. He can play good, but he’s a piece of shit and nobody is going to hire someone with his kind of attitude. He thinks just ‘cause he can play and wave his arms around in the air that he’s going to become a famous musician and conductor, but he needs to work on being a decent fucking person first.”

His rant wasn’t the most coherent, but it felt good to get off his chest, and he leaned back against the wall and took a hit to emphasize his point. The boys were quiet, and when Matteo raised an eyebrow at Jonas, he tilted his head to the front of the group where David was standing, scowling at him.

“We need to fucking talk.” David growled out through his teeth, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, looking like he was going to vibrate out of his skin with the amount of tension in his body.

Matteo said nothing but handed the joint off, and followed after David when he turned and walked out of the room. He was done. At that point he didn’t give a fuck if he got kicked from the program, or if he was fucking kicked out of the school, because he and David needed to settle whatever their issue was then and there.

David led him down the hall and he knocked loudly on a door before shoving it open, and grabbed Matteo’s wrist to pull him inside. Matteo noticed it was a bathroom, and quickly glanced around to see if anybody was watching them. He wondered what they thought was happening. Someone in the band would probably recognize the stiff way David was holding his body, and see Matteo trailing almost lazily behind him, and know that something was about to go down. But someone else might just see two boys going into a bathroom together at a party, and come to a completely different conclusion. Matteo almost laughed at the thought. Yeah, he was gay, but he didn’t know if David was. He didn’t know if David even had the time or patience to date or hook up with anyone.

He could tell that his apparent apathy towards the situation was just pissing David off further, so he closed the door slowly, not even locking it before leaning back against it with a bored sigh. He definitely wasn’t actually as calm as he looked; he crossed his arms across his chest so the shaking in his hands would be less obvious, and it was taking a lot of effort to keep his face neutral when he saw how angry David was. He didn’t think David was going to hurt him or anything, but he was terrified about what the fight could lead to when it came to his position in the band.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem is, Matteo, but I don’t have any kind of attitude. I care about what I do and I want it to be done right. It’s not my fault that you don’t care enough to actually try, but it is really fucking with my experience here,” David said quietly, his voice a little too calm for his red face and clenched fists, “I can’t conduct a band when I need to stop every five seconds because you lose your place.”

Matteo snorted, and leaned his head back against the door. It was taking him a minute to figure out what he wanted to say and he was surprised that David was quiet, like he was giving Matteo the time to think.

“David,” Matteo said, after figuring out what was probably the dumbest part of the whole issue, “you’re good enough to be hired anywhere. Me being a shitty band member won’t stop you,” he paused for a moment, and then picked his head up and said, “And I do try. I’m good. The only reason I’m still here is because they know I’m good. I just don’t need to prove it like you do.”

He was glad that his mind was clear enough to get his exact point across, and he watched David as his words sunk in, realizing that David had probably drank too, considering the way he was leaning back on the counter, his legs a little unsteady. David stared at Matteo for a minute before standing up straighter.

“I don’t need to prove anything,” he said, “I know I’m good.”

“Then why are you such a dick?” Matteo asked, “Like, specifically to me? Yeah, you yell at everyone but you’re just mean to me. Are you homophobic or something?”

Matteo couldn’t stop the thought from drifting through his mind and out his drunk mouth. Maybe David was, and there was going to be no way to solve the issue. What the fuck would he tell Rick?

“What? No, I’m not homophobic,” David said, looking like he wanted to laugh at the idea but was too confused to, “I’m trans.”

“Trans people can be homophobic.” Matteo said, shrugging, knowing that it was a stupid point to make. He was honestly just happy for a break in the tension.

David actually laughed, before tilting his head and smirking at Matteo and saying, “Trust me, I’m not. That would be kinda weird considering I’m also not straight.”

The way he said it made something hot bloom in Matteo’s stomach, and he hated his stupid, gay brain for reacting. That statement combined with the look on David’s face, and the fact that despite their stupid rivalry David was still really fucking hot, was making Matteo lose sight of the original conversation a little.

“You’re hot.” He said, verbalizing his thoughts before he could stop himself, and then he clamped his mouth shut and bit his lip, half terrified that David was going to get angrier, and half glad that he was just getting everything off his chest thanks to the alcohol in his system.

David fell back against the counter, the smirk dropping from his face, and he blinked before stammering out, “Uh. What?”

“I think you heard me,” Matteo said, shrugging, and then he looked off to the side before looking back at David’s confused face and saying again, “you’re hot.”

“Why- what does that have to do with any of this?” David asked, and Matteo couldn’t tell if he was angrier but he sounded different, in a way that made him stand up against the door a little.

He just shrugged again, and then stared at David as he tried to work through whatever was going on in his head. Matteo watched as he stood still for a minute, his fists loosening and tightening at his sides, and he watched as David’s eyes scanned up and down his body with the same focus they would scan the band with, and he watched as David pushed himself off the sink, took a few confident steps forward, and shoved Matteo against the door and pressed their lips together.

Matteo’s eyes widened and then slid closed as he felt David’s hands clutching tight onto his hips, and he grabbed at David’s arms and just as he started moving his lips David pulled away roughly, and was back against the sink in a second.

“That was a bad idea,” David said, holding onto the edge of the sink, avoiding Matteo’s eyes by looking off to the side, “we’re both drunk, we’re fighting, we can’t do that.”

“We don’t have to fight,” Matteo said, knowing that it probably was a bad idea but stepping forward anyway, until he was close enough to see just how tight David was anchoring himself to the sink, “you can tell me to fuck off and I will. Or,” he said, taking another step closer until his foot was kicking against David’s and he could reach out and grab his wrist, “I can stay.”

David only looked back at him when he felt the tug on his arm, and he looked down at Matteo’s hand before looking him in the eyes. Matteo took a risk and slid his hand down, grabbing David’s, and was shocked when David used that grip to pull him in for another kiss, backing him up until his back was smacking into the door again. He got an arm around David’s neck before he was pulling away, again, and Matteo sighed as David rubbed a hand over his face and said, “Fuck, no, this is such a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” Matteo said, rolling his shoulders as he asked, “can you just make up your mind? This is hurting my back.”

David looked at Matteo again, looked him up and down the same way that he had earlier that night, and something seemed to click. He tilted his head again, his eyes filled with a sudden new brightness as he stepped forward, placing his hands on the door on either side of Matteo’s hips, boxing him in.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he said, and Matteo raised an eyebrow, amused, before he continued, “whatever happens tonight happens, and then we don’t talk about it, and it never happens again. Deal?”

Matteo thought it over for a minute, more trying to get one last little jab at David by making him wait for an answer, and once he saw David’s face go from confident to bordering on annoyed, he grinned and stuck out his hand, and said, “Deal.”

David ignored his hand but grabbed his ass and pulled him in close, his hands dragging up to Matteo’s waist as their mouths met again, and Matteo slid a hand into David’s hair and let himself melt against the door.

***

Matteo woke up the next morning with a dry mouth and a bad headache, both of which he attributed to the hangover he almost definitely had. He couldn’t even remember drinking that much, but the pain behind his eyes was more than just him being tired like usual. He got himself out of bed, just wanting to drink some water and get into a hot shower to wash away the sweat and alcohol from the party.

He got into the bathroom and turned the shower on, tugging his shirt over his head as he yawned and rubbed at his eyes. He blinked at himself in the mirror, taking in the pale face, the fucked up hair, the red eyes, the bruise on his neck, the-

Matteo jolted forward and slapped his hand over the mark on his neck, before moving it so he could gawk at the dark purple and red. Seeing it brought back a rush of memories from the night before, memories that Matteo couldn’t believe he had forgotten, and he stared at himself with wide eyes and let out a quiet, “Fuck.”

***

Matteo debated whether or not he should skip the next band rehearsal. He knew that realisitcally he couldn’t, and that skipping because of a hickey was so dumb that he shouldn’t have even been considering it. He just didn’t want to face his friends and have them ask questions, and even more than that he didn’t want to see David.

He figured that David wasn’t planning on showing up for their usual private session, so he got to band with just enough time to still be considered early, and he found a quiet corner of the theater to set his baritone up in, a row of seats off to the side. He smiled when he saw Jonas come in, but it fell quickly when he saw Jonas notice the hickey on his neck, and the pure joy and confusion that came over his face.

“Dude!” Jonas exclaimed, staring obviously at the mark, “Who gave you that?”

“Someone from the orchestra, I barely remember his name.” Matteo said as casually as he could, having thought of the lie on his way to band. Jonas nodded with a grin and held out his fist, and Matteo rolled his eyes and bumped his against it, grateful that the idea of him and David hooking up was so unbelievable that it wouldn’t even enter Jonas’ mind.

“And what happened with Schreibner?” Jonas was bouncing on his toes, excited for the news and probably expecting a story.

Matteo snorted and rolled his eyes again, before turning back to his half-assembled baritone, and shrugged and said, “We worked it out.”

Fucked it out is more like it, Matteo thought to himself, and he shook his head to rid it of that kind of thinking.

Matteo got settled in his seat, listening to the cacophony around him, and then finally let himself glance around the room to see where David was. He was surprised when he didn’t find him, unable to think of any other time where David showed up late (besides that one time with the sheet music), but the doors suddenly burst open and the conductor walked in, David hot on his heels as always, whispering as they finished up what looked to be an intense conversation.

“Sorry we’re late, we got caught up discussing the sequence of songs for the concert, but I’m glad to see you’re all ready to go.” Rick said as he grabbed his baton, and he waited for David to sit in his usual seat in the clarinet section before counting them into their first song.

Matteo spent the entire rehearsal trying his hardest to not stare at David while doing exactly that, but he was lucky that David never returned his gaze. He seemed to be actively avoiding looking in Matteo’s direction, which made sense considering the deal they had made, but he was still a little let down that David didn’t even look at him. He even found himself disappointed when David didn’t end up conducting that day, and got up and went over to his case once they were dismissed.

He was glaring at his bottle of valve oil, realizing that he was low and was going to need to go get more, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up with a smile, assuming it would be Jonas, but it dropped when he saw David standing there. He had his jacket on, his clarinet case clutched tightly in his hand, and his backpack on his back, and he was staring down at Matteo with something between apathy and irritation on his face.

“Where were you earlier?”

Matteo raised an eyebrow. He tossed the valve oil back in his case before snapping it shut, and stood up and gathered all of his things before turning to face David again and shrugging, letting his eyes drift to the side as he said, “I figured I’d give things a day to chill after...you know.”

“After what?” David asked, with a tilt of his head, and more pointed, forced confusion on his face than Matteo had ever seen. Oh, so that was how it was gonna be.

Matteo smiled back tightly. “You know what, never mind. I’ll be there next time.”

There was a moment where David’s eyes darted down to Matteo’s neck and back up just as quick. His cheeks got a little pink. Matteo smirked.

“Good.” David said simply, and then turned and left. Matteo stared after him, and smirked when he saw David turn again to look at him one more time before almost jogging out of the theater.

Matteo heard a snort from behind him, and he whipped his head around to see Jonas standing there.

“Fuckin’ dick,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of the door, “what was he yelling about this time?”

“Nothing important.” Matteo said, shrugging again, readjusting his grip on his baritone case as they started walking towards the door.

“Is it ever with him?” Jonas joked, elbowing Matteo in the arm, and they both laughed as they left the theater, Jonas waving a goodbye to the people who called out to him. Nobody said anything to Matteo, and he sighed as they made their way down the hall.

“Who knows, man,” Jonas started after a second, pausing and then turning to Matteo with a grin, jabbing him again, “maybe Schreibner is just secretly gay and super jealous of whoever gave you that hickey.”

Matteo snorted, before laughing out loud as they got outside. He shook his head and chuckled when Jonas shot him a confused look.

“I don’t think that’s it.”

*****

The next day that Matteo was meant to meet David, he woke up, and the anxious and dark feeling that settled over him immediately made him want to turn over and go back to sleep. It didn’t have anything to do with David, Matteo knew that, had a diagnosis that proved that, but he couldn’t help the dread that filled him at the thought of sitting in a practice room getting scolded over and over again by the same guy who had given him a hickey the week before.

He lit a joint as he left his place. There were tons of off-campus apartments around his school, and he had managed to get a place with Jonas. It was small, but they had all the rooms they needed, and a balcony attached to Matteo’s room for him to smoke on. It was perfect.

Smoking that day was a bad choice, though. He had gone to band high before, and knew that his fingers would be slower and he wouldn’t be able to focus, but it wouldn’t be any different with the fog filling his head. The only difference was that at least he would be out of it enough to not be bothered by the criticizing.

But by the time he got there, he had almost forgotten that before he had band, he had to see David. He knew it would be obvious he was high, and was preparing himself for whatever David would have to say about it. He was also a little late because he needed to take a minute outside of the building to breath and calm himself down. The weed had done the job of dulling everything coming in, but the anxiety twisting up inside of his gut was still pretty active. He took another shaky breath before pushing into the practice room.

“You’re late.” David said sternly, turning in the seat to glare at Matteo as he shuffled in. Matteo barely acknowledged that he had spoken besides a half shrug until he was settled in his chair, with his baritone set up.

“Bad morning,” he said in a quiet voice, before putting his music on the stand and saying, “let’s just start.”

David went easy on him at first, starting off with one of their simpler songs just to make sure Matteo understood one set of measures that the entire band had been messing up. It didn’t require much complex counting or a lot of movement, so Matteo was playing fine. It was a little further into the session when David switched to a different song, one that Matteo could play most days, but not with his fuzzy brain and fingers that started to shake when David pointed at the measure he wanted Matteo to start with,

He barely got through the first measure before David was cutting him off and telling him to start over, and then stopping him again to count out the beats, and then finally stopping him again when Matteo was playing at a tempo so wrong that he didn’t even know what he was doing.

“Okay, stop, stop,” David said, and he flopped back in his chair with a huff, “what the fuck is going on today?”

“Nothing,” Matteo muttered, leaning back in his chair as well, but crossing his arms over his chest, “I told you, bad morning.”

David turned to stare at him, actually looking at him for the first time he had come in, and Matteo saw understanding dawn on his face before a glare took its place.

“Oh, I get it,” David said, shifting back in his chair, “you’re really trying to get kicked out, aren’t you?”

“No, what the fuck?” Matteo said, shaking his head at the idea.

“So you thought coming in stoned was a good way to keep your spot?”

Matteo froze, before asking quietly, “Are you going to narc?”

David rolled his eyes and snorted, and opened his mouth, before closing it again and leaning back more in his chair. He squinted at Matteo for a second, and then asked, “Why did you do it?”

“What?” Matteo asked, running a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the side because he hadn’t even thought about what could happen if David told anyone that he had showed up high.

“Get high, before coming here? If you aren’t trying to get kicked out? Did you think it was a good idea?” David seemed almost amused by the conversation.

“None of your fucking business.”

“I kind of think it is, though, if you’re going to be showing up here, at a time that I only agreed to meet at because you need help-”

“Shut the fuck up, you have to be here just as much as I do, in case you forgot,” Matteo snapped, feeling himself losing a bit of the control that he was usually very careful to hold onto, “and if you really need to know, my brain is pretty fucked up and coming here and getting yelled at by you doesn’t help. Shockingly, it makes it worse. So if you’re going to run off and tell the department that I’m high, make sure they know it’s because you’re so unbearable to work with that it’s the only way I can get through it.”

David stared at him, and swallowed, his face unreadable. Matteo took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, his pulse pounding in his ears. He pressed his fingers down on the valves of his baritone as he tried to get his breathing back under control after losing his temper, and with the new panic that was filling him. He was done for. There was no way David would let him get away with all of that, and Matteo knew that the department would not be happy to hear that he showed up to a rehearsal high before screaming at everyone’s favorite.

“Okay,” David said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Matteo’s head whipped to him. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed that you’re high right now,” David said, but his voice was still soft, and he was looking at Matteo with the closest thing to sympathy on his face that Matteo had seen from him, “but brains can suck. And I get that I can be...blunt.”

Matteo snorted. “Blunt, sure.”

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” David said, and he took his phone out of his pocket and started typing, “have you ever listened to the songs that we’re playing?”

“Well, he played new pieces for us in the beginning of the semester. And I hear them when we play.” Matteo said with a shrug. He had never really been the type to listen to band music. He loved it, and loved playing it, but it already took up so much of his time. When he was listening to music on his own he usually chose stuff that he couldn’t tell you the time signature of.

“Yeah, but sitting in a section of a band and listening to the people around you is really different from hearing it like the audience does,” David said, barely looking up, “we still have some time before rehearsal, so let’s just listen to the songs until it’s time to go. I’ll point out some parts that you’re struggling with so you can hear how you fit into everything else.”

“Oh. Okay. That sounds good.” Matteo said, staring at David in shock as he kept tapping on his phone. After a few seconds, Matteo could hear the run that starts the first song in their program. David raised the volume and set his phone on the stand, and then leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips turning up as the clarinet came in, playing the solo that David played every class.

“That person played it better,” Matteo said under his breath, a little uncomfortable with how suddenly accommodating David was being. He was sure light teasing was still safe. He smirked at the eyebrow David raised.

They listened to the next couple of songs, David pausing every now and then to point things out or tell Matteo to listen to the part coming up next. Matteo could see his hands twitching on his lap, tapping along to the beat, and sometimes, seemingly without even noticing, his hand would come up and with just a finger he would conduct to the room. Matteo watched until it seemed like David wasn’t paying attention to him anymore, and he leaned back in his own chair, and closed his eyes.

He was still listening, and he continued tapping his foot to the beat of every song that played. As the last note of the last piece played out in the room, Matteo let out the breath he had taken in and held during the final crescendo. He didn’t realize until then that he hadn’t even put away his baritone, the horn just resting in his lap, his hands moving across the brass and pressing down on the valves of their own accord.

“We should probably head out,” Matteo heard, and he opened his eyes slowly, not expecting to meet David’s as quickly as he did. David was staring at him with another unreadable expression, biting his lips as his eyes darted around Matteo’s face, down to his lips, before he bit his own and jumped up from his chair with a, “yeah, we need to be there in ten. Let’s pack up.”

*****

[insert blah blah whatever but then the conductor is like haha later this week im gonna be gone and david is gonna conduct all of you the whole time and matteo is like “lol k” but it actually ends up being fine?? And matteo plays better and david doesnt have to say anything to him and near the end he actually SMILES at him and matteo is like okay oaky….this is kinda nice i like not fighting with this dude also hes STILL SO FUCKING CUTE]

[flash forward to a couple weeks later they're still kinda getting along like they are still constantly teasing and bantering and arguing but its like,, nice and funny and ,maybe flirty??????]

“Why can’t we talk about it?” Matteo asked, finally, snapping his case shut and turning to stare at David’s suddenly stiff back. He heard David’s case zip up after a second, before he turned around, a tight smile on his face.

“Talk about what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made it obvious he wasn’t pleased.

“Stop acting like it’s fucking crazy that two people who don’t like each other got drunk at a party and hooked up,” Matteo said, rolling his eyes at David’s carefully controlled expression, “just because you’re so busy and important doesn’t mean you have to be boring.”

“I’m not boring,” David hissed, but he flopped back down in his seat and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling before saying, “I don’t want other people in the band finding out. I have a reputation with them, and I know that...I know this would make things weird.”

“If anything they’ll be jealous of me,” Matteo said with a laugh, “as if you don’t know how many of them eye fuck you while you’re conducting.”

“I’m not...oblivious,” David huffed, and Matteo smirked when he saw his cheeks get red as he looked down at the ground, “and that’s not it.”

Matteo tilted his head, trying to figure out what David meant as he looked up from the ground but off to the side, chewing on his lip. Somewhere in the back of his head a thought started brewing, and once he thought it it was impossible not to clear his throat, and take a breath before asking, “Is it because you think I’m bad? Like, a bad player? Do you not want them knowing you hooked up with me?”

“What? Matteo, no,” David looked at him sincerely for the first time since Matteo had started the conversation, and he reached a hand out, and Matteo jumped when it wrapped gently around his wrist, “I don’t think you’re a bad player, and that...that isn’t the problem. You aren’t the problem with this.”

“Then what is?” Matteo asked, exasperated even though he was the one to ask.

“It’s them,” David said, gesturing vaguely out but Matteo could guess he meant their bandmates, “I love them, but do you know how hard it would be to lead a group of people, including lots of people who have hit on me, if they knew I hooked up with the one member of the band that I-”

“That you what?” Matteo asked too quick, excited to hear the answer.

“That they have seen me get angry in the past- perhaps angrier than necessary.” David said calculating and slow, like admitting it hurt him somewhere deep. Matteo kind of hoped it did. After smiling to himself at that he refocused on the point of the conversation.

“Do you really think I’m planning on telling any of them?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “The only other people I talk to besides you are Carlos, Abdi, and Jonas, and I’m not telling them about any of it because I don’t want them giving me shit for any of it.”

“Why do you even want to talk about this?” David asked, looking up and fixing Matteo with a hard stare, “It happened a while ago, and it’s not like we had some romantic fucking moment of reconiliation. We got drunk, we argued, we hooked up, and now we can move on.”

“Well,” Matteo said, licking his lips and shrugging before looking up at David again, knowing that he didn’t really have a reason besides, “I had fun.”

David opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and then opened it again and just went, “Okay?”

“Didn’t you?” Matteo asked, trying for confidence, but coming off as a little desperate with the way he twisted in his seat to make sure he would catch David’s answer.

“I mean…” David started, his cheeks getting darker as his eyes darted around the room, then down to Matteo’s lips and up to his eyes again as he said, “yeah. I did.”

“Yeah, so,” Matteo said, shrugging again, “what’s the big deal if we acknowledge it? It happened, and now we-” he cut himself off, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “and now we see what happens next.”

David’s eyes popped open. Matteo shrugged again before standing and picking his case up, and his bag, and taking a couple of steps to the door. He turned when he heard silence behind him, and saw David frozen in his seat, still staring at him. He stared back for a moment before gesturing out the door and asking, “Are you coming?”

David blinked and nodded, before getting up and gathering his things as well, and he followed Matteo out the door, and they made the short trek to rehearsal.

Matteo felt different sitting down next to his bandmates that day. He was still full of adrenaline, but felt ready to play, quietly humming one of their songs to himself as his fingers pressed down on the associated valves. He couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking to David every few minutes, and he caught David looking back just as Rick walked onto the stage. David coughed and looked away, and Matteo smiled to himself before leaning back in his seat.

He could feel David’s eyes on him throughout the rehearsal, and he was surprised, but it encouraged him to keep sneaking peeks as well. His eyes would wander up from the page even when he was playing just to catch a glimpse of David in his seat, sitting up straight, his strong arms and shoulders holding the clarinet up, his lips wrapped around the mouthpiece-

Matteo was glad he had a lot of rests.

“David! You were supposed to come in there!” Rick yelled suddenly, smacking the score in front of him with his baton, “You’ve never missed that cue before, what’s got you so distracted today?”

The band was silent and they watched David blush as he said, “Sorry, Rick, I’ll focus better. Won’t happen again.”

The conductor just shook his head before telling them to start the piece over, which was followed by angry grumbles and the sound of papers flipping. David looked down at the ground, his cheeks an angry red, and Matteo bit back the smile that threatened to grow on his face.

[david cancels their next private lesson and matteo is like what why and then he gets to band that day and david is conducting again and he basically ignore matteo the entire time and matteo is a lil mad and then after matteo goes up to him and is like “hey wtf why did you cancel on me and then not even correct me when i messed up” and david is like “fuck cause youre super fucknig distracting now and i cant spend an hour alone with you and then get up in front of a group of people and conduct like an idiot cause im too busy thinking about YOU” but hes likes embarassed and actually mad about it and matteo is like oh my god are we going back to the anger i thought we were passed that and davids like well i guess not and matteos like lmao do we need to hook up again cause that seemed like it worked pretty well last time and david is like,, so fucking pissed but is more pissed that hes kind of into that idea so he locks the practice room door and basically they hook up in the practice room because wow what a fantasy that is]

[things are like….weird but chill for a while after that. It seemed like being able to hook up with matteo again made david less distracted by him in a destructive way and even put a bit of a pep in his step?? And matteo notices that hes being a bit nicer to everyone, not just him, and hes actually smiling and complimenting matteo during their private sessions, and even though nothing is explicitly referenced they both know something's going on. Neither of them would call the other a friend though]

[this is after they hook up the third time, which is the first time that isnt completely out of anger but they arent really friends They just happened to run into each other after a concert and were both being a bit flirty and matteo was very boldly like “hey uh come back to my place” because he thinks and david actually does]

“Tell me something about you,” Matteo said, turning his head and propping it up on his arms so he could see David. The light was low in the room, and the plant near his lamp was casting strange shadows on the walls, and on David himself, leaned back against the wall like he was.

“Uh,” David started, his eyes dancing around the room as he tried to think of something, “I started playing the clarinet when I was-”

Matteo reached out and pinched his leg. David twitched, and raised an eyebrow at him. Matteo hoped that David was okay with the fact that he just kept touching him. It was hard to keep his hands away, and he didn’t know David’s comfort level with non-sexual physical contact. So far he seemed more amused than anything else.

“Tell me something not related to music.” Matteo said, and David snorted at the request.

“Why?” He asked, reaching down to push Matteo’s hair out of his eyes. He bit his lip, wishing that David kept his hand on him longer.

“I just think, you know,” Matteo said, hoping he wasn’t pushing it by sliding his hand onto David’s thigh, the same one he had pinched, “might not be the time to to get into that topic. Just in case.”

I don’t want to start arguing when we just had really great sex and we’re like five minutes away from cuddling if I play my cards right, is what Matteo was thinking, but he figured he got the point across.

David hummed, and nodded, the amused smile still on his face, and tilted his head against the wall and said, “Okay, let me think.”

Matteo stared at him, from where the blanket was draped over his lap, up his bare chest, up the angle of his neck, and still found himself blown away at how beautiful he was. He sighed, glad that David wasn’t watching him swoon.

“Okay I got something,” David said suddenly, turning to Matteo, his eyes bright, “so, growing up we had a cat. My sister got to name it because she was older, and she named the cat Martha Jones, after a Doctor Who character. That cat fucking hated me.”

Matteo laughed, but David didn’t look like he was done, so he prompted him with, “And?”

“Years later, I moved in with my sister, and she wants us to get another cat. So, we go to a shelter, and there’s a cage in the back with a sign on it that says ‘Martha Jones’. Completely different cat, but of course my sister says we have to see her.”

Matteo nodded, enthralled.

“So she goes to ask a worker, and this dude says that that cat was a biter, would hiss, and scratched anyone that went near her unless they had food. Laura insisted, because she’s stubborn, so they brought us into a room and the dude basically tossed the cat in with us and closed the door.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.” Matteo said, shifting closer until he was able to rest his head in David’s lap. He couldn't hold back the need any longer, and he was pleased when David started playing with his hair.

“It wasn’t, she immediately scratched me so bad I started bleeding,” David said with a chuckle, “but she chilled out after a bit, my sister was very persistent. After like 20 minutes she was purring in my lap.” David finished with a proud smile down at Matteo.

If Matteo hadn’t already been crushing that would’ve sealed the deal. It did make something soft settle in his chest, and made his hands a little tingly, and he didn’t think twice before asking, “Can I see a picture?”

David looked thrilled at the question, and he leaned over to grab his phone. Matteo watched, biting back a grin as David scrolled through his pictures before settling on one and handing his phone over, obviously excited for Matteo to see.

The first thing Matteo could make out was a metal music stand, the same basic kind he had in his room for practicing, but it was tilted so the tray was lying flat. He grinned at the cat bed that was resting on top of it, and actually awwwed out loud at the pretty calico, splayed out on her back in a sunbeam. The stand was in front of a large window, and Matteo could see plants around it, and he wondered if it was David’s room.

“Yeah,” David said, looking at the picture again himself before putting his phone down. Matteo felt a tug on his hair, and he looked up to see David staring down at him, and he said, “now you.”

“Me? I don’t have any cats to show off,” Matteo said, wrapping his arms around David’s legs so he could squeeze himself closer.

“No, now you have to tell me something about yourself,” David said, rolling his eyes, but his face was softer than Matteo had ever seen it.

“Oh, shit,” Matteo said, not thinking that David was going to turn the conversation on him, and he hummed for a second before saying the first thing he could think of, “well, I like to sing. When I was younger I used to have a vocal coach and everything, now I mostly just sing whenever my roommate isn’t home.”

It wasn’t something he brought up, or really thought about too often, because ultimately the decision for him to stop the training was out of his hands, and he regretted not being able to go farther with it the same way he could with the baritone.

“Why’d you stop?” David asked, his voice soft, as if he could sense the sadness underlying the statement.

“Well,” Matteo said, shifting back a little bit so he could roll onto his back and say it up to the ceiling, “my mom was the one who got me the lessons, I had already been taking them for the baritone for a year or so. My dad got pissed, because I was already singing in the church choir at that point, and he didn’t want singing to distract from my other music shit. When I got older, uh,” he paused to take a breath, “there was a while where my mom wasn’t living with us, so all the singing lessons stopped. I stopped singing at church, too, and, well. I was better at the baritone anyway.”

He hadn’t noticed that while he had been talking, David had slid down more on the bed until he was resting on his side, and he was staring with a concerned look when Matteo turned to him again,

“They have vocal coaches through the school,” David said, an arm inching across the mattress towards Matteo, “you can sign up for one, if you want. I can get you the email of the person who sets them up, I-”

Matteo laughed at David’s eagerness to help, cutting him off, and rolled back over onto his side, surprised at how close he found himself to David. He felt a hand gently sliding onto his hip, and he bit his lip, his eyes meeting David’s, and he leaned in to kiss him.

David didn’t seem to have expected it. He made a sound, and Matteo worried for a moment that he was going to pull away but instead he was pulled in closer, David’s hand sliding onto the small of his back. He pulled away, and David rolled onto his back, his cheeks pink.

“Thanks, but I don’t need any of that,” Matteo said, and he hesitantly let his head drop onto David’s shoulder, and then let his arm drape across his stomach when David tangled their legs together, “it’s just something I do for fun now.”

“For fun,” David repeated, and then took a breath and asked, “since the topic of music is back on the table, do you want to hear a secret?”

Matteo looked up, amused, and then propped his chin on David’s chest so he could see him better, and he said, “Yes, please.”

“So, I can play almost every wind instrument, right? And brass too, and I can figure out percussion pretty quickly. I can pretty much play anything you’ll find in the average wind ensemble, and then some.”

Matteo rolled his eyes, “That’s not a secret.”

“Yeah, but,” David took another breath, and it seemed like it actually pained him to say, “I can’t play anything with fucking strings.”

“Really?” Matteo asked, leaning up a bit more so he could see the hurt on David’s face, and he grinned, and questioned, “not even guitar? Or ukulele? Even I can play those a bit.”

“Nope,” David sulked, “nothing. One time my friend gave me her violin to try and she said I should be banned from ever touching anything with strings again.”

Matteo covered his mouth with his hands to stop the giggles that were threatening to pour out of him. It wasn’t like there was any actual expectation that David was able to play every single instrument that existed, but the shame he seemed to be feeling about his own inability was hilarious.

“Now you have to tell me something else too,” David said, poking Matteo in the cheek, obviously trying to change the subject,

“You offered that information up freely, I don’t have to tell you shit.” Matteo snarked back. He was still reeling from how strange this new dynamic was, and he wanted to push a bit, see what was allowed.

David scrunched his face up before suddenly grabbing Matteo’s wrist and flipping him onto his back, David hovering over him, looking much too pleased with himself. Once he could tell Matteo wasn’t going to try to move he slid his hand off his wrist and down his chest, onto his hip, and blinked his dark eyes slow and said, “Tell me something.”

“I can speak Italian,” Matteo blurted out immediately, unable to resist a hot, mostly naked boy pinning him to his bed.

“Oh yeah?” David asked with a grin, “Fluently?”

“Yeah,” Matteo said, his eyes wide as he stared up at David, “my dad’s from Italy, we spoke it when I was growing up.”

David hummed, still looking down at Matteo with the same cocky smile on his face, and said, “Say something.”

“No,” Matteo refused, and with a sudden burst of confidence he slid his hand onto the back of David’s head and said, “kiss me.”

David’s eyes widened but he smiled, and did as told. The conversation ended there.

*****

A few days later, a weekend, Matteo walked out onto his balcony. It was midday, and he had already eaten and gotten the work done for his academic classes, so he had an unlit joint dangling between his lips. He stretched, and squinted when the sun shone down on him bright enough to hurt his eyes. He dashed back into his room, intent on finding the sunglasses he knew were somewhere, and he saw something balanced against the wall in the corner that made him pause.

It was a ukulele, his ukulele, one that a random family member had gotten him when he was first accepted to the school. It was a bright blue, and Matteo knew that with most instruments a bright color didn’t ensure the best quality, but he didn’t mind because he barely played the thing. It was good enough for the random time every few months where Matteo would decide to teach himself a new song.

He thought back on his conversation with David. He felt the corners of his lips twitch up, remembering David’s pained face when he revealed his secret, and with a small laugh he grabbed the neck of the ukulele and tucked it under his arm. He found his sunglasses on the floor next to his desk, and slid them onto his face before walking back out the door.

He leaned against the railing of the balcony as he lit the joint, smiling around it, and puffing the smoke out his nose. His room faced out to an empty street, across from a bunch of buildings that he was sure nobody had gone inside for years. He liked how private it felt, for the years he had lived there he had only seen a handful of people out there.

Which made it the perfect place for him to pluck out a few random chords on the ukulele without the judgement he usually faced when playing music. He wasn’t good by any means, but he knew enough chords to play enough songs to keep himself occupied. There were even a few times when he and Jonas had played together out there, usually after a few beers or joints when Matteo was feeling less self conscious about giggling as he badly played along with Jonas actually playing his guitar.

He puffed on the joint, his eyes closing under the sunglasses as he started strumming. His fingers had settled naturally on the frets, playing the chords to the last song he had taught himself, one Jonas had played in his car that got stuck in Matteo’s head. He hummed along, but stopped when the joint almost fell out of his mouth. He took a step back, rolled his shoulders, and started playing again.

The joint did fall out of his mouth, tumbling to the ground at Matteo’s feet, thankfully not setting anything on fire, when he heard from the street below him, “Matteo?”

Oh god, he recognized the voice immediately. He bent down to grab the joint and stubbed it out on the ashtray conveniently right next to him, and took a deep breath before peeking over the railing. And he was right about the voice, as David was standing there, a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun, squinting up at the balcony.

“Uh, yeah,” Matteo called back, lifting a hand to wave awkwardly before realizing that he was still clutching the ukulele, so he set it down, his fingers tight around the neck, “that’s me.”

“Nice shades.” David said, smirking up as he moved his hand from his eyes. The sun was going behind some clouds so the glare was gone, and Matteo lifted the sunglasses from his eyes with a blush.

“What are you doing over here?” Matteo asked, leaning over the edge so he could get a closer look. David had a bike next to him, and a backpack tight on his back, obviously either coming or going from somewhere.

“Oh, well, actually,” David said, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground like he was embarrassed by the question, “I was just taking a shortcut.”

Matteo snorted, and looked down at his arms folded across the railing. He didn’t really know what to say. He wasn’t expecting to see David obviously, and it didn’t seem like David’s answer matched his reaction to the question. He wanted to know what that was about. After an almost awkward silence, just as David’s hand tightened around the handle of his bike, Matteo quickly asked, “Do you want to come up?”

Something about David made Matteo do that a lot, blurt out things that drifted through his head that he wouldn’t usually say without a second more to think about it. He blushed after he asked, looking down at his arms again, not wanting to watch David uncomfortably decline. Sometimes it was hard to remember that they weren’t really supposed to like each other.

“Okay.” David said, confidently, and Matteo’s eyes snapped back down. David was looking up at him with his head tilted, a smile on his face like Matteo’s question was a challenge.

“Oh,” Matteo responded, needing to take a minute to realize that David was actually agreeing, “um, go around the front and I’ll buzz you in?”

David nodded, and hopped on his bike and disappeared around the corner of the building. Matteo let out a breath and rushed into his room, looking around with wide eyes to see what he needed to quickly kick under his bed and shove in his closet. He managed to tidy his room up enough to not be embarrassed by the time the buzzer went off, and Matteo ran to it, not even knowing if Jonas was home but desperately hoping he wasn’t.

He pulled the door open, biting his lip when David came into view, smiling slightly in that cocky way he did. He felt like he would swallow his tongue if he spoke out loud so he waved David into the flat, blushing at the chuckle David let out as he did so, and David bowed his head as he walked in, stepping past Matteo and stopping in the entrance to the main part of the flat.

“We should go chill on your balcony,” David said, looking around like he had never been there before. To be fair, the only time David had been there they were stumbling through the dark to Matteo’s room trying to keep their lips connected, so he didn’t blame him for taking the time to look around in the daylight.

Matteo nodded, and then realizing he hadn’t actually said anything since David came up, cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sure.”

He led an amused David through his room, pointedly avoiding looking at his bed, his face flushing although he kept his eyes trained forward. David didn’t say anything, or even show in any way that he remembered the fact that just days ago they had been wrapped up in each other in that very same bed, kissing and touching and a lot else. Matteo didn’t know how he was so nonchalant about it when the sight of the bed instantly brought the taste of David’s lips to Matteo’s head, the feeling of his hands on him, Matteo’s hands in his hair. He shook his head and pulled the door to the balcony open harder than he meant to.

He was glad that they had chairs set out on the balcony, ones they had found outside some other building when they first moved in. They didn’t match but they were surprisingly comfortable and most importantly, not broken. Matteo only sat after David had picked a chair, and looked up at him, an amused smile still on his face.

“I should tell you that I lied, earlier.” David said suddenly, after Matteo sat. He looked up, confused, at David’s smile.

“Lied about what?”

“I wasn’t really taking a shortcut.”

Matteo raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

David nodded, and bent down, digging around in the backpack at his feet. Matteo settled back in his seat to watch until David sprang back up with a book in his hand.

“Don’t tell anyone,” David started, flipping to a page near the end, “but I might sometimes sneak into buildings in a way that isn’t totally...legal.”

Matteo smiled at that, tilting his head, and asked, “For any particular reason, or do you just like the thrill?”

David smiled back, not cocky, and said, “It is pretty thrilling, especially when you get chased out by security guards. But I really do it for this.”

His cheeks got a little rosy when he handed the book over to Matteo, and Matteo’s jaw dropped when he looked down at the page. He was expecting words, but instead there was a sketch done in black pencil, and it took Matteo a minute to piece together what it was.

[idk dude figure out what he drew i guess lmao i dont care enough to try to write this part rn]

“These are… really good,” Matteo said, flipping through the pages. He didn’t really know if David wanted him to but he didn’t try to stop him, so Matteo let his eyes wander over the pages.

“Yeah, well,” David said, sounding a little sheepish, “it’s a hobby, I guess.”

Matteo was quiet as he turned page after page, finding sketches of more abandoned buildings, random people, different plants. A cat popped up a few times, which made Matteo smile, along with the doodles of instruments and staff lines half filled with notes. He didn’t realize how long he had been absorbed in the book until he noticed he was on the second to last page. He stared at the drawing that seemed somewhat familiar, a barely-started portrait, a head with short swooping hair, a button nose, a small smile-

“Okay, um,” David said quickly, his hand darting out to grab at the book, “yeah, a lot of those last ones aren’t finished. Not really that interesting.”

“I thought they were,” Matteo muttered, a little annoyed at being interrupted. He had been enjoying himself.

“I, uh,” David started as he shoved the book back into his bag, “don’t usually show that to people.”

Matteo tilted his head. He had never seen David look less sure of himself. He leaned back in the chair, biting his lip, his eyes avoiding Matteo’s. He seemed almost… shy? Timid? Words that Matteo would never associate with David.

“Well, you should,” Matteo said after a moment of silence, “it sucks that you’re amazing at that too.”

That got a bit of a chuckle, and Matteo grinned at David until their eyes met. There was a beat, and then David looked away again.

“I don’t know,” David said, his cheeks getting pink again, “that’s something I really only do when I need to escape. I just… go somewhere, and draw whatever I can find. I don’t really show people because I’m not doing it for anyone else. Like… you know.”

Matteo had a million questions about what he meant by that, but David had crossed his arms over his chest and looked off to the side after saying it, his jaw set. He let out a long exhale through his nose, and Matteo got the hint that he didn’t want to further dissect that statement.

Matteo leaned back in his chair, quiet, trying to figure out how to turn the conversation back around. He could tell David maybe hadn’t meant to say as much as he did, maybe was a little embarrassed at revealing something so personal. Showing off a picture of his cat a week or so prior was nothing compared to talking about something that he was actively keeping to himself. His escape, from what Matteo knew was a very stressful and hectic life.

He thought for a moment, his eyes darting around the balcony to find something to change the topic, to stop David from looking so uncomfortable. His eyes landed on his ukulele. He paused there, the thought alone making his heart race and something nervous twist up in his stomach, but before he could stop himself he reached out and grabbed it, letting it settle in his arms the way it always did. David didn’t look over until Matteo accidentally twanged one of the strings.

“Um,” he said, when David’s eyes widened and a grin started growing over his face, “I’ll trade you.”

The grin stopped, David tilted his head in confusion and asked, “You’ll trade me what?”

“You told me about what you do that’s just for you, that you don’t usually share with other people,” Matteo strummed, quickly adjusting a couple of the tuning pegs until the sound was just right, “only fair that I do the same.”

“I didn’t think that playing the ukulele was that important to you.” David said, uncrossing his arms, relaxing back into his chair a bit. The tension was gone from his face, and his lips were curved up at the sides.

“It’s not,” Matteo said with a smirk that looked more confident than he felt, and he took a deep breath before putting his fingers on the frets.

He started strumming the song he had been playing when David showed up, looking down at his hands because he knew he would need to focus on the chords and not on David looking at him. He took another deep breath, tried not to think about it, and started singing.

“There once was a bittersweet man and they called him Lemon Boy….”

Matteo hadn’t considered the lyrics before singing them, just picking a song that was fresh in his head so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by messing up, not that David would have been shocked by that. It was a simple song, pretty, one that he didn’t have to think too hard about. But as he sang it, as the lyrics came out of his mouth less timid with every word, he felt butterflies in his stomach. He got to the chorus, and closed his eyes.

“Lemon Boy and me started to get along, together,” he sang, ignoring the heat he could feel spreading across his cheeks, “I helped him plant his seeds and we'd mow the lawn in bad weather.”

Matteo stumbled on a chord, managed to fix it in a second but he knew David heard it. He continued, though. David had reminded him of that often, not to stop when he made a mistake.

“It’s actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him...”

He sang the next verse, getting a little sloppy with the chords as he failed to not think about the words he was singing. He got through it, got halfway through the next chorus, and was suddenly cut off when loud classical music started playing from David’s bag. His hands stilled, and he opened his eyes.

It was as if David hadn’t even noticed he stopped, or the sound coming from somewhere near his feet. His eyes were wide, shiny and dark, staring into Matteo’s, leaning forward in his chair like he didn’t want to miss a single word, a single strum of Matteo’s fingers over the strings. His head was tilted, lips parted just enough that a long shaky breath could escape, his hands gripping tight to the arms of the chair. He looked awed by Matteo’s mediocre performance.

David’s gaze snapped down to his bag when the classical music started again, and he whispered an, “Oh, shit,” as he dug through it. He pulled his phone out and Matteo expected him to put it to his ear, assuming the music was a ringtone, but instead he could see it was an alarm that David turned off with a slide of his finger across the screen.

“I was supposed to be home a while ago, I need to, uh,” David cut himself off as he stood, shoving his phone into his pocket and zipping his bag closed before swinging it onto his back, “I have to do my shot today.”

“Oh,” Matteo responded, not understanding what David meant. He wasn’t able to say anything else, like singing had taken the rest of his voice for the day.

“You know, testosterone?” David stuttered out, nervous, as if Matteo didn’t already know he was trans.

“Oh,” Matteo said again, almost smacking himself in the face when he blurted out, “have fun?”

That made David pause, his franticness to leave slowing as a smile grew over his face. He bit his lip, and then to Matteo’s shock, let out a laugh.

“I’ll try my best,” he said, winking. That action alone was enough to have Matteo collapsing back into his chair. David turned towards the door, put one foot back into the apartment, and then stopped before saying, “oh, and Matteo?”

“Yes?” Matteo said, leaning forward again, greedy to hear whatever David was about to say.

“One day I’ll show people my art. Have an exhibit at a museum, maybe.” he said, turning his head so he could look back at Matteo with a soft smile on his face, “but only if I can hire you to sing there.”

Matteo’s jaw dropped, his face turning bright red as David walked through the door. He flopped back in his chair, waited until he could hear the clicks of his door opening and then closing, and let out the breath he had been holding for who knows how long.

#oi this was a big one #i spent so much time on it and i hope yall like it even though its not finished #davenzi

56 notes · View notes

snkpolls · 4 years ago

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SnK Episode 67 Poll Results (for Manga Readers)

The poll closed with 254 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Manga Readers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll, click here.

RATE THE EPISODE 246 Responses

The response to this week’s episode remains overwhelmingly positive, with 97.6% of responses giving it a score of 3 or higher.

This is the first episode where I have absolutely no criticisms, so im quite happy with how it turned out.

Voice acting was top tier

perfect

Emotional

Great Job! I'm glad my favorite character's death was so emotionally misered.

Forget Attack on Titans, this episode was Attack on my Feelings ! 😭

I want to rate it a 1 because of Sasha but a 5 because of how well it was done... so 1.5

Absolutely loved it

Perfect

ASIDE FROM SASHA’S DEATH, WHICH MOMENT WAS THE MOST EMOTIONAL FOR YOU? 247 Responses

Connie’s heartfelt admission to Jean seems to have stolen the hearts of the plurality of responders (36%). That is followed by a tie of 18.2% responses noting Eren’s breakdown or EMA’S tense reunion as the most emotional moment for them. In third place is Gabi’s tragic declaration about her struggles with 11.3%. Other responses were, in order, Jean lamenting all of the deaths occurring, Gabi and Falco realizing that Zeke betrayed them, Hange scolding Eren for forcing the SC to intervene in Marley and Levi and Eren’s confrontation.

Connie telling Sasha and Jean that they're special to him made my heart hurt knowing what was going to happen mere minutes after. I honestly saw me and my two best friends through them, and it was gut wrenching seeing Connie and Jean's reactions. Even Mikasa's reaction broke me, to be honest. They all lost a huge light in their lives.

WHICH MOMENT SURPRISED YOU THE MOST? 222 Responses

So this question was meant to only go on the anime watchers poll and ended up here somehow. Thanks to the 222 who were good sports and responded anyway! :P The most shocking moments that took place in this chapter/episode was the revelation that Eren went rogue from the Survey Corps, that Zeke was collaborating with the Survey Corps, how the Survey Corps treated Eren, and that some Paradisians seemed to be turning to nationalism, in that order.

Not sure why we're being asked as manga readers which moment shocked us the most since we already knew everything that was going to happen this week

HOW MUCH DID SASHA’S DEATH HURT YOU? 249 Responses

When it came to Sasha’s death, it would appear that it broke the hearts of the overwhelming majority of responders, with 81.1% giving it a rating of either 4 or 5 on the tragic scale.

Broke my heart and I'm still crying over it three days later. Honestly though, it was greatly done.

3 years later it hit me, Sasha is dead ;_;

Cried my whole soul and body. Rip sweet Sasha

I thought Sasha's death would've been more emotional.

WHOSE REACTION TO SASHA’S DEATH AFFECTED YOU THE MOST? 250 Responses

Sasha’s death elicited various reactions from the main cast. Two different responses tied at 36.4% noting Connie and Mikasa’s reactions to Sasha's death as the one affecting them the most. This was followed by Eren’s at 13.2%. The rest were, in order, Armin, Jean, Levi and Hange.

I don’t cry at fiction much, but Sasha’s death got me more than I thought it would. I feel like seeing Armin and Mikasa’s reactions in particular is what got me.

The way they animated Armin and Mikasa bawling over Sasha's body and the inclusion of Call Your Name made it all the more emotional. I think by "Assassin's Bullet" they also meant a bullet through my heart because man did that hurt to watch. 😭🤧

WOULD YOU PISS YOUR PANTS IF LEVI WAS GLARING AT YOU WITH MURDEROUS INTENT? 248 Responses

A bit of a joke question, but we wanted to know if Levi appeared as threatening as he seemed. 80.2% seems to think so, admitting their incentive to piss their pants. In contrast, 19.8% don’t think the Captain’s such a scary guy!

THE FULL VERSION OF “ASHES ON THE FIRE” BY KOHTA YAMAMOTO (THE PREVIEW SONG) IS NOW OUT. IF YOU’VE LISTENED TO IT, WHAT DO YOU THINK? 236 Responses

“Ashes on the Fire” has been released to rave reviews, with 88.1% of responses giving it a 4 or a 5. Nobody gave it a 1, either. Yamamoto-san, thank you!

OVERALL, HOW WELL DO YOU THINK MAPPA ADAPTED THE MARLEY ARC? 251 Responses

In spite of the relatively vocal complaints about the adaptation of certain elements of the Marley Arc, it would appear that the overwhelming majority of responders seemed pleased with it, with 51.4% giving it 5 and 37.1% giving it a 4. 1s not present.

I've been a bit bothered how Mappa follows the Manga like a slave, using the panels as scenes and not adding anything in between. Sure it works for Manga, but it feels weird to me to watch in Anime how Eren grabs Armins hand and they don't give a transition where Armin pulls him in, but just show him inside the airship next. Just little things, but bothers me a bit. Overall I'm really enjoying their choices.

The show looks BETTER

I was fine with the episode. The quality of animation dropped but I understand that every scene cannot be animated on highest level. MAPPA has done a great job with the Marley arc. They shown the character development and bonds between the warriors perfectly. We had some cuts here and there but overally was okay: 8/10 for me.

I’m so pleased that MAPPA has taken the anime. I’m still more of a fan of this particular series’ manga than anime though.

DID SASHA’S DEATH AFFECT YOU MORE WHEN YOU READ THE MANGA, OR SEEING IT ANIMATED WITH VOICES AND MUSIC? 249 Responses

As noted above, Sasha’s death seemed to be a hard hitter for most. Comparison of the adaptation vs the original allows to discern which hit the readers/watchers the hardest. Just one percent shy of a majority (49%) thought that the anime made it much more tragic. 30.9% noted that the impact was roughly similar across both mediums. On the flip side, 10.4% thought that the initial depiction of it in the manga was the hardest hitter. There were also a couple of write-ins.

I dont remember I sped run reading the manga, kinda regretting it

I knew it for the first time in the manga, so it had a more powerful impact (I cried for a whole week. Not kidding) and the anime managed to make me cry as hard as in the manga. Though, I already was aware and grieved so it wasn't as bad

Got Spoiled :( so kinda meh, saw it coming

When the music kicked in after Connie announced she was gone, my heart broke into a million pieces.

Let's be honest, Sasha's role was over after she killed the titan in the village and saved Kaya. After that she was just there. She got zero development, zero important moments, zero depth. Her death effected many characters and helped them to develop. Sasha's death was sad but at least brought some important changes in others.

Not a Sasha fan so I was not really that affected but having a death in the series always feels sour

I think for me, they're both even.....mostly. There's just something about having been waiting for the chapter leaks on reddit with a bunch of other people and most of us collectively grieving at the same time. Once bigger pages of the chapter started coming out, it made me cry. I didn't even cry during serumbowl when I first read it and that had plenty for me to be even more upset about.

Honestly while reading manga I hated that Sasha’s last word was „meat”, it seemed so ridiculous. I’m happy MAPPA made it look more serious with music. Actually everyone’s reaction for Sasha’s death had more impact on me than the death itself

HOW DID YOU FEEL WHEN YOU SAW GABI KILL SASHA IN THE MANGA? AND HOW DO YOU FEEL SEEING IT AGAIN NOW, KNOWING HOW GABI’S ARC DEVELOPS? 247 Responses

Gabi is perhaps the most controversial character introduced post-time skip. Whether you’re a proud member of the Gabi Gang, proud hater of the 12 year old or just a neural party, everyone can admit that. With Sasha’s death at her hands, many seemed to offer up their opinion on the kid, back then and now. A slight plurality, 31.2%, stated that they did not hate her back when 105 first released and they don’t hate her now. 23.1% note that although they were rather upset with her back down, they are not (upset/angry) any longer. On the flipside, 25.5% state that they still hate the kid, as they did back then. Finally, some were simply neutral. Classic.

Quite a few write-ins, as well.

I hated her in the manga but after watching the anime, I’m not happy about it but I understand why she did what she did and don’t hate her as much anymore.

I was extremely upset about it before and am still extremely upset about it now, but for different reasons. I hate her less but am not any less annoyed by her brainwashed hatred of the Paradisians, although I understand her much better and realize and empathize that she's just a kid who's been used by her country in the worst way.

Gabi Braun Must Die

Broke my heart and was upset, but understood where she was coming from (thought about her perspective only)

Sasha shoulda killed this cunt while she had the chance

It’s war, she did as she needed to. Her arc is fantastic

love hate relationship

I didn't like her but not because of Sasha death (that's war consequence) and it's the same now

I really hated her with my whole heart and soul, but now that it has been all explained, that she had character development, I even like her now

I used to be angry about it but I understand why now, Gabi is just a victim of Marley’s control just like anyone else is, it’s a shame this is the results of it. She’s still at fault but I can’t hate her so much for it

I feel tired of Gabi hate. I disliked her in the manga back then but now I feel neutral towards her, because she has changed. Yet, I wish she took less screentime.

SORRY for ranting! I don't understand the hate on Gabe. Yes, I know she killed a Paradise character which was present in series since its beginning and I understand Sasha's fans are upset Sasha is not here anymore because of her. but those people do not analyse Gabe as they should be. Every character belongs to a different side and each side is blinded by what heir belives in. It is okay to not like Gabe but I don't tolerate hate on her. I THINK THIS QUESTION SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN INCLUDED AT ALL.

Initial hate, understanding after some thought

Understanding her situation I know I shouldn’t hate her, but I’m choosing to be petty and hate her anyway

I liked her much more than I like her now. She was a much better character back then, her killing Sasha (a one-note comedic relief) was cool and brought some spice to the story. Now she just exists to spout themes and convenient exposition and to be an aimbot

i dislike her, even if i understand her

I dont like Gabi. Never did. It isnt because she killed Sasha tho. I just dont care for Gabi tbh BUT i can totally understand her actions and do not blame her for it after seeing the destruction and killings

I was and still am upset about Sasha's death, but from the start I blamed it more on the circumstances than Gabi.

I loved her then, I love her now and it probably wouldn’t change even if she killed my favourite characters. She’s my cinnamon roll

Gabi did nothing wrong, killing a soldier in the battlefield is not a crime.

See, I WANT to like Gabi since she's obviously changed, but knowing she killed Sasha nonetheless will ALWAYS prevent me from having any love or respect for her. She will always be my most hated character

MAPPA ADDED AN EXTENDED SCENE OF FLOCH AND OTHER SURVEY CORPS RECRUITS BEATING GABI AND FALCO. HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT IT? 240 Responses

MAPPA added an extra scene of Floch and Friends raining down copious amounts of gratuitous violence upon two 12 year olds (MAPPA is pro-child violence???????? Find out when 111 is adapted). 48.8% seemed to think that it was a decent addition, even if just for the SC’s characterization (or perhaps you enjoyed seeing that?). 22.5% thought it was a bit over the top to feature. Finally, 16.7% did not care.

I didn't like it. But, it was def a believable reaction from them.

I just wish it was enough to kill her

I liked the additional characterization of Floch & co.

Great addition, it was implied in the manga so the scene fitted well. Still, it was horrifying to see how vile the scouts were to two kids

How about an option where we're glad Gabi got beaten to a pulp but not when Falco was?

ORA ORA thing, but we viewers get hurt too.

Didn't feel bad about Gabi getting beat up, but I did feel bad seeing Falco get beat up. Poor boy didn't deserve that

A nice addition

I thought it was a great choice to highlight the continuing violence and feelings of vengeance from both sides even more. and I thought it contrasted really well with Jean's decision not to throw the kids out of the airship.

The people glorifying this scene annoy the shit out of me

It's a good way to hint the "Yaegerist" perspective to anime onlies

MUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDAMUDA

The Gold Experience memes are funny

It was an IC scene for people like Floch + I feel bad for the kids

The way they shot that scene made the recruits seem like mindless, gross-faced animals storming towards the kids to beat them up. I liked how they were dehumanised like that, considering that most faces amongst them belonged to the ones who support the rumbling.

It hurt to see that but good scene though

Feel empathy for Gaby. Violence don't solve problems

Now THAT'S what I call fan service! Who needs big-boobed, big-ass females or shirtless guys with and when you can just have the most hated character get the tar beaten out of them xD

I can see why they did it. MAPPA's not dumb and I'm sure they anticipated a massive onslaught on hate towards Gabi specifically, so it was their way of trying to satisfy the haters. Falco didn't deserve it tho.

It was a good addition

GREAT JOB MAPPA

I hate Gabi too but that was too much beating up a child, yet it also showed how shit Floch and the others are.

Apparently some people never noticed that Gabi and Falco got beat up, probably because it happened in the background. So it was good for MAPPA to call attention to it.

I love Gabi but she had that coming. No need to hurt Falco though. :(

OVERALL, HOW WELL DO YOU FEEL MAPPA EXECUTED THE REVEAL THAT ZEKE IS A TRAITOR TO MARLEY? 240 Responses

The reveal that ZOOK has been working against Marley for years on end is one of the most important ones in the series, really. So it was important to have it be executed in a rather decent manner. The vast majority of the fandom thought that MAPPA did a fine job. 52.1% gave it a rating of 4, 27.5% gave it a 5 and 17.1% gave it a 3. The couple of the other respnders gave it a 2, with no 1s.

IN THE END, DO YOU THINK EREN’S ACTIONS IN MARLEY WERE ULTIMATELY JUSTIFIED? 242 Responses

A question to remember… Were Eren’s actions in Marley ultimately “justified”? A plurality, 44.6% seems to think so. In contrast, 24% disagree. And 31.4% still aren’t sure to this day.

SIMILARLY, DO YOU THINK THE SURVEY CORPS WAS ULTIMATELY JUSTIFIED IN TREATING EREN AS THEY DID? 244 Responses

When it comes to the SC treating Eren as they did, the division is much less pronounced however. The majority, 60.7%, think that the SC had quite the justification for treating Eren as they did. On the flip side, 19.7% think that there was such justification for behaving in such a manner towards Eren. Finally, the same amount of responses stated that still can’t be sure to this day.

NOW THAT WE’VE GOTTEN A CLEAR SHOT OF YELENA, DID MAPPA DO HER JUSTICE? 243 Responses

YELENA is here. Queen 👑. Or well, maybe not. Who am I to say? In any case, her appearance was received well. 52.7% thought MAPPA did very well and 33.7% went on to declare their love for her. Just shy of 10% noted that MAPPA could have done a little better though.

Kinda wish her hair was like neon or something idk

Need more eps of her to decide, she didn't get much screentime and lines here.

I don't like Yelena, but yeah I guess they did good.

In the manga she was a creepy-looking person. MAPPA made her unique, interesting and mysterious. I love her voice and her stoic, relaxed self. MAPPA did a good job.

QUEEN!!!!!

Great adaptation but I still don't like her as a character

Don’t care about her

don't really care

I hate her and I don't care about her.

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 247 Responses

Such a colorful chart for this one. It would appear that slightly over a quarter look most forward to seeing Crykasa at Sasha’s grace. Slightly less (21.9%) want to see Sasha enjoying Niccolo’s cuisine. In third place is the scene with Connie, Jean, Mikasa and Niccolo at Sasha’s grace. The rest are, in order from most to least, Onyankopon and Yelena teaching the Survey Corps about the Port, EMA talking at the shooting range and Hange and Armin learning about Marley’s technology.

HOW HYPED ARE YOU FOR THE UPCOMING TIMESKIP FLASHBACKS? 239 Responses

The time skip flashbacks seem to be a hit. A little over 51% are super stoked about seeing them animated. Slightly under 24% state that they’ll enjoy them, but are looking forward to other things more. In contrast, 22.6% are ready to go crazy (from a positive standpoint)! Wooo!

Enjoying AND dreading it at the same time

I just want the centipede

Boring. The only thing what interests me is Historia teasing Mikasa about her crush on Eren. The rest is too jolly.

I'm looking forward to see Yelena's insane self be animated. That, and more Zeke.

THE MOST RECENT LIST OF FUTURE EPISODE TITLES SHOWS THAT EPISODE 12 WILL LIKELY END AROUND CHAPTERS 109-111, LEAVING CHAPTER 112 (EMA’S ARGUMENT) FOR EPISODE 13. EPISODE 67 WAS ALMOST ENTIRELY ADAPTED FROM CHAPTER 105, PROVING THAT ADAPTING DIALOGUE-HEAVY CHAPTERS FAITHFULLY CAN EASILY REQUIRE THE FULL 20 MINUTES. WITH ONLY 16 EPISODES - AND SO MANY WHICH ARE DIALOGUE-HEAVY - DO YOU THINK THINGS WILL END OFF WITH THE INITIATION OF THE RUMBLING (CH. 122), AS HAS BEEN SPECULATED BY MUCH OF THE FANDOM? 238 Responses

The manner in which the Season will end is a mystery to even the manga readers. Where will it end? Will it have many cuts? These are the questions. 36.6% seem to think that MAPPA will somehow manage to both end it at Chapter 122 and cut as little as possible. 26.5% don't believe ending on 122 is possible. 12.2% do believe MAPPA will end the Season on 122, but only with many notable cuts. Finally, just a little under 20% are simply not sure. There were a few write-ins as well.

I hope not, too many cuts would be required

The is no way they're making it up to 122, at first I thought they were going to finish it off with Eren's head getting blown off in 119, but now that seems like a reach too. Now I think MAPPA is probably going to end this first half of the season with Eren and Pieck's "where is the enemy?" and the warriors arriving to Shiganshina

I’m not sure right now so I’ll have to see for later episodes for the cut-off point, if it isn’t the Rumbling then it’ll be when Gabi shoots Eren

MOVIE

I'm conflicted. I'm sure they'll end at rumbling because it's the only reasonable point to cut it, but I feel like they're running out of episodes. Then again I'm feeling the same about the state of Manga, there's just too little chapters left to end things up well.

I don't really want to think too much about it, I just want to enjoy the anime lol

I fully expect 119 to be the end

What was the point of rushing Reiner's chapters if you are going to slow down later. Goddamn it MAPPA.

It'll really depend on the pacing for the next couple episodes, but I'm with a bulk of the fandom that see Chapter 119 Two Brothers being the end point for The Final Season. IF they were to skip the opening and maybe the ending, I can see them transitioning from Eren's head getting blown off immediately into his transformation and the beginning of the Rumbling. But even that is quite farfetched.

I have no idea, I'm a little worried now. Wouldn't be the first time a lot of content gets cut but if they insist on reaching ch. 122, I just don't see how you do that without butchering a lot. If that happens, it would probably lessen my enjoyment of the season.

Yeah, I think it will have a lot of cuts, but I believe that it will get there because Ymir falling in the tree was in the trailer

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

It's amazing seeing how each week, something with SnK trends! ^^

It still baffles me just how much people insist on hating Gabi, especially when her arc has shown tremendous growth in the manga. Reiner was no better than her when he was a child and continued to insist that Paradisians are devils and chose to further destroy their lives even after sleeping under the same roof as the 104th for 3 whole years and forming personal bonds with them. Yet, his actions are forgivable but Gabi's are not? Both characters have shown remorse for their former beliefs and misdeeds against Paradisians. Both realized that they were in the wrong. The characters have forgiven Gabi. Why can't y'all do the same? People who want Gabi to suffer are no better than they accuse her of being.

Well done episode which managed to capture the emotions of sasha's death perfectly

monke

I really appreciate Gabi as a character. She has spunk and a strong character arc in which she changes and grows more than anyone in the last 30 chapters of the manga, save maybe Mikasa (ignoring how Eren, Reiner, Armin and maybe a few others changed during the timeskip). It makes me sad seeing people wishing for her to die and praising Floch and the others for kicking her.

Gabi absolutely deserves the hate she gets

I absolutely love to see the anime-onlies mass hate of GabBitch, does my heart good xD

Boring ,too much Gabi she is annoying

Time to strap in: wild ride ahead!

Gabi Braun is the WORST character, her arc was poorly written and the moment she kills Sasha solidifies her rightful place as most hated character

No development has made me stop hating Gabi. The wound of Sasha's death will ALWAYS overshadow any crocodile tears Gabi may cry.

Kudos to Jean's and Connie's voice actors. Emotions were so raw and natural.

so good! they're really nailing down the emotional beats so far!

Dialogue-heavy but still amazing! Also the music was great

I didn't felt anything when Sasha died. Even the first time, in the manga. She hasn't enough personnality for me to care. Erwin and Bertolt's death were more saddening for me. Stop hating Gabi. She was in grief and she did what Marley brainwashed her to. And Sasha killed people right in front of her, so…

1 chapter was too little to be adapted for an episode, you could tell some scenes were stretched to fit the runtime

The music they chose for the scene of Sasha passing was also the same music they used when the Survey Corps first donned their capes and Eren found out Marco was dead... man, that song is gonna hit harder than ever now

It didn’t help with the overwhelming amount of hate Gabi is getting. I hope Mappa does her justice because she’s a great character but the Anime only seem to hate her because its a “funny” “popular” thing but it really isn’t... shows who really is paying attention to the story and the people who are watching it because it’s popular and trendy

People who are hating on Gabi do not understand the themes portrayed in AoT

Pretty solid overall. Wonderful bits of animation such as the ODM bits and the solid character acting from Sasha going down, Mikasa and Armin is distress, personal highlight being Gabi's reload animation. Good ost choices, nice addition of Samuel and Daz to foreshadow their conflict later on in the story, and great work from Connie, Gabi and Eren's VAs.

Friendly reminder that just because we hate Gabi does NOT mean we don't "understand" the story or themes. We just don't care because Gabi is a bad character.

U mad at Gabi for what she did ? Did she kill Potato girl for no reason? Imgine a kid, at least 3 years younger than the 104th, made fighting on WARS and praised for it, brainwashed by Marley that Paradisians are devils, and these devils came in her home, killing her friends and this WOMAN killed in front of her eyes two people who tried to protect her. Don't be mad at Gabi. Grieve for Sasha, okay, but stop hating Gabi. You're the worst when you do it

Hey Gabiatans: as long as you're not threatening the VA or other RL p olle, it's PERFECTLY fine to hate Gabi. Period. We don't have to like her, and it's not like we don't "understand" her just because we hate her. I "understand" a lot of Germans were forcibly coerced into joining the Nazi regime, but I don't have to pity then for any consequences that came for them.

Leviiiiiii

I was surprised that Mikasa and Armin crying over Sasha had no voice over. I thought it was still effective but I'm not sure if I prefer it. Other than that, the character animation was amazing this episode. Gabi's hands as she reloaded the rifle and Armin crying were my favorites. Overall, everything was pretty perfect and I love it when a chapter gets adapted in full with basically no cuts. One of the best episodes in the series and a proper send off for Sasha.

Wonderfully done episode! They truly did Gabi and Falco's perspectives justice. Also, seeing Eren's expressions and reactions in animated format was clarifying and super well done, too!

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 227 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who participated!

#snk poll #snk polls #snk s4 #snk spoilers #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot

17 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 5 years ago

Text

Pain (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: finally, a kakashi one shot. I've been trying so hard to write one but his character is so difficult for me, so deep and mysterious and im just an idiot. Tell me if this story is shit, lol. Anyway, Soulmate AU, kinda fluffy, kinda sad idk what to say about it.

word count: 5000~

Part One/Part Two

“Trust me,” the boy whispered to me. “It’s going to be okay.”

His arms wound around me, as I dozed in and out of consciousness. Lightning struck every couple minutes, illuminating the area just enough up so I could see the carnage around us. Dead bodies, left and right, blood splattered on trees and shinobi crying over the bodies of their teammates and loved ones.

This war would show no mercy, it had taken someone from every clan, every household. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, lovers, friends. No one was safe from the storm reigning over the nations.

The rain had left me drenched, and I kept coughing on the water running up my nose and into my mouth. I felt like i was drowning in my own body, lungs filled with water, heart filled with pain.

I could feel the burden on this boy’s shoulders as he panicked over my limp, bloodied form. I didn’t know why he was saving me, or how he even noticed my body among the dozens of others left among those battling for their lives.

I didn’t have the strength to ask him, words absent from my mind and my tongue.

“I need to keep fighting. Where are the medics, for fucks sake,” my rescuer grumbled under his breath. Fire shot above our heads, and a girl screamed in pain behind us. I felt like I was going to pass out from not only pain but sheer fear. We were sitting there asking to be killed.

Quickly, he lifted me in his arms and ran deeper into the forest, farther away from the man with the flames.

I tried to speak, but blood caught in my throat and had me spitting it down my neck and onto my shirt. I was at the complete disposal of this stranger.

“Kakashi!”

My teammate. His voice was unmistakable. “Is that Y/N? What- Jesus, that looks bad,” my friend exclaimed as he approached my body. Suddenly my body was being handed off, and I gasped for air, more drops of blood coming up to taste on my tongue.

“Gai, she needs to get to a medic; she’s your teammate right?”

“Right away, Kakashi!” He turned on his heel and prepared to push off into a jump through the trees when he paused. “You don’t even know Y/N, what made you save her?”

“I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t let her die,” the silver haired boy, whom I know knew as the famous Kakashi, trained by the fourth Hokage himself, paused, his eyes stuck on my face for a long minute. “She deserves to live, that’s all I know.” With those being the last words out of his mouth, the boy rushed into the trees, ready to fight another battle for our village. I knew who Kakashi was from the name, but I had never formally met him. He just saved me, and I didn't know whether to feel honored that he found me worth saving or ashamed that I was so weak I couldn't defend myself.

Gai carried me to the edge of the forest where a medic tent was set up. He rocked me softly in his arms as I choked on the mere air I was breathing in, and gasped when my chest felt too heavy to support itself. He was a friend, the best friend I’ve ever had, even if he was painfully unbearable at times.

People even asked me, time and time again, is Might Gai your soulmate? No one can stand that kid, she must be his soulmate, poor girl. That’s what they would say. But no. We were friends. And Kakashi, was Gai’s sort-of-friend, but mostly he acted as an admirer.

He had mentioned Kakashi time and time again in secret. He would call him a hero, someone so talented and majestic, you would think he was talking about a seasoned shinobi like the Hokage. He felt challenged by his skill, but grateful for his help when he was being bullied.

I guess, you could say Kakashi Hatake was my hero now too. Such a quiet guy, yet more noble than any one of us.

___________________________________

I don't normally show my soul mark, hidden away under my layers, resting on my shoulder blade. I show it to people when they ask, because it really doesn't matter if people see it or not. I know they aren't my soulmate.

I wasn’t surw who I was destined to be with. Over the years of being a shinobi, I encountered thousands of people, all of whom could have been the one, or not. I may have met them before and not known about it, but I highly doubt it.

Kurenai told me when you meet your soulmate for the first time, it's such a distinct feeling that you can't miss it. You can't dismiss it as just a chill running through your body. As far as I can remember, I've never felt something like that: so significant that it would haunt me even today. I try not to dwell on the fact that I may never meet my soulmate, or that I've passed them by in another village or on a mission and will never see them again.

I honestly try not to think about my soulmate at all. It's so hopeless and only brings people anxiety and paranoia. The people who go around asking to see every single person's mark are fools in my opinion.

Yes, I do think it would be nice to meet my soulmate and love them forever unconditionally, constantly having someone to hold and talk to. Yet...I can get so much shit done when I don't have to worry about some fate-forseen destiny.

I laid in my bed, pillow over my face to drown out the sunlight and sounds of the birds chirping. I didn't have a mission today, and my team of Genin was out on a mission themselves for the next week. I had time to do absolutely nothing but sleep and relax. That is, if my fellow villagers would leave me alone for once.

But not today. I can't have one day off, can I?

"Rise and Shine, woman of the night! Half a day of youth has been wasted, my friend!" A loud bellowing voice called from outside my room. "If you don't wake up and open the door in 10 seconds, I will force the door down." Seriously…fuck Gai.

I rolled out of bed, threw on my robe lying on the floor and walked to the door. If it were anyone else, I could probably get away with staying in bed, but Gai doesn't lie when he makes threats, and I wasn't about to replace my door again.

The sun was so bright when I opened the door and peered out at my friend. eyes narrowed to avoid the sunlight. "Gai...why are you like this?" I put bluntly, stiff frown on my lips.

He frowned, shaking his head furiously. "Y/N, you are yet a single beautiful flower from the leaf village. You must not waste a single day of your youth, your prime time for action, adventure, and training," the man proclaimed, throwing his fist in the air dramatically.

"Listen, I'm tired as all hell, but if you want me out of the house we can go get breakfast."

"Breakfast? It's past noon."

"Fine. Lunch, then." He nodded, begrudgingly. He was, as expected, disappointed that I didn't even know what time it was, and that I had skipped the most important meal of the day. I shut the door and changed into appropriate clothes, combed through my hair for a minute with my hair, and shoved some cash in my pocket for food.

We walked five blocks to sit down for ramen, and were greeted kindly by the owner and his daughter.

"When is your next mission assigned?"

"Wednesday. Two days of peace."

"What about your team? Training?"

"On a c-rank. No kids, no responsibilities. What more could I ask for? I got 14 hours of sleep last night too."

His eyes widened, but what was he expecting? I wasn't exactly proactive when I didn't have to be, unlike his upbeat and always ready to fight lifestyle. Maybe he was right to always be prepared, since we can never know when someone will attack the village. We weren't prepared for when Orochimaru first attacked and our Hokage died, as well as hundreds of our shinobi.

"Typical Y/N behavior. As long as you are safe from harm, I suppose it doesn't matter. Still, after this I'm running 100 laps around the village with Lee. You can join if you want."

"I'll pass this time. My calves are killing after my last mission." I sighed but felt a little calmer as my ramen was placed in front of me. I took one whiff of it and felt immensely better than before. I slouched in my seat a bit as I relaxed and practically inhaled some noodles.

After I finished my ramen, I bid my farewell to Gai and headed back to my apartment. I guess today would be a good day to clean the mess that had been building up there for a few weeks. I went on missions so often, I just forgot to pick up in between them.

When I was walking up the stairs to my place, I noticed a particular silver haired shinobi leaning against my door, holding a small box in his hands.

“Kakashi!” I exclaimed, walking just a bit faster to get to him. He came to visit me sometimes, but it was quite rare. We usually met up in town or for a mission. “Back from your mission already?”

“Yep. Turned out to be a lot easier than we anticipated,” he replied, shifting on his feet, a movement noting nervousness. I stopped at my door, peering up at him brightly. It was always a pleasant surprise seeing him. After all, he was one of my favorite people.

I leaned on the opposite side of my door frame, my eyes shifting to the little box in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, just something I found while on the mission. It’s really no big deal.”

“You were in the Land of Snow. Barely anyone goes there; of course your little trinket is a big deal!” I laughed. He also laughed, but it was painfully awkward and tense. He still seemed pretty on edge, which I just brushed off as the aftermath of a mission. “Who’s it for?”

“Yeah, about that…” he trailed off, eyes turning down to the box. “It’s actually for you.”

My whole face lit up in flames at the thought of Kakashi getting a special present for me. I watched with the internal excitement of a kid on Christmas morning, my hands shaking just a bit by my sides. My friend lifted the box, and inside was the most magnificent crystal on a metallic chain. It was white with shimmering bits of blue and silver swirling around inside.

Carefully, I reached out and touched it with the pads of my fingertips. “Kakashi, I don’t know what to say...It’s so beautiful.” My eyes lifted to look at his single eye. It seemed I had caught him staring, and he blinked quickly to cover it up. My cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink.

“The lady who sold it to me said that it holds a protective spirit inside. That’s probably just a cheap sales pitch, but I…” he mumbled, embarrassment creeping up his neck and ears, “Well, I thought you would like it.”

“Are you kidding? I love it. Kakashi, this is the nicest thing someone has ever bought for me. Must have cost you a fortune!” I protested as I further inspected the crystal. It was purely amazing. Truthfully, I didn’t think Kakashi had much taste either.

He shrugged. “Price doesn’t matter. What does matter is if you will wear it.”

“Of course.” Excitedly, I turned around and moved my hair out of the way of my neck. “Put it on for me, please.” I listened to him pick the chain and the clap of the box shutting and slipping into his pocket. His fingers slid against my neck, sending tiny shocks down my spine, and the cool crystal soon sat against my chest. His slim hands moved away from my skin, and I admittedly missed the feeling of his warmth on me.

As I turned, he hummed with approval. “Looks perfect on you, as I suspected.”

“O-Oh. Well, thank you for getting it for me. Hopefully it actually works like the lady said.”

“Either way, you’ll always be safe.” He brushed off my comment coolly. “Trust me.”

I always did.

_________________________________

It was late into the night, but nerves kept me up once again. All this drama with Orochimaru, Sasuke, the Akatsuki. It was overwhelming. Tsunade was assigning me missions almost every day, my joints ached from running and fighting, and my chakra felt as if it was used up for the last time; I was so tired.

The streets were quiet except for a few restaurants still open to late night diners. My footsteps echoed on the ground as I walked along, dirt kicking up around my feet with every lazy step.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him, perched on the top of a water tower. His hair still flew up despite the wind persistently pushing it down. Kakashi Hatake, my friend and comrade. As always he looked almost majestic, especially in this moonlight. For some reason, I felt the urge to jump up there and be with him, a push towards the shinobi.

Silently, I bounced between buildings to get to where he was, talking up to where he sat. His nin-kin turned to me and nodded in greeting.

“Sup, Y/N,” Pakkun said in his strangely deep voice for such a tiny dog. Sitting down beside the man, my eyes trailed over to where he was looking out all this time. Pain shot through my body at the sight of the memorial stone, glimmering in the darkness.

I think every shinobi had their fair share of memories associated with the stone, whether it be family or friends. I sighed, my gaze shifting to the moon above us.

Some things were just too painful to dwell on.

“Y/N.”

“Hey, Kakashi,” I began, rubbing over my knuckles with my thumb. “I was just on a walk, and it looked like you could use some company.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Pakkun rolled his eyes, but said nothing. After all, he knew his master could use all the human compassion he could find. “Been a tough night.”

I leaned forward a bit, swinging my legs off the edge of the water tower. It made me dizzy being this high up and looking down, but I enjoyed the rush it sent through my blood. My head tilted toward him, and I sighed. “Agreed. Too much to think about, huh?”

“Yep.”

“What’s on your mind then?”

“Currently?” His laugh was bitter as he said that word, shaking his head. His frustration rolled off his body in waves. “My student is a rogue ninja and my other students are going to get killed trying to find him.”

I nodded solemnly. My own squad was actually quite boring. They had talent, but not the same attachments or motivation as Kakashi’s students. His children fought with their all every single battle, always striving to be better than they were the day before. Hell, Sasuke went with a criminal to achieve his goals. I felt sorry for the guy. His kids weren’t normal.

“Naruto won’t give up, huh. Can’t see that happening, I gotta admit.”

“I was the one who taught them the importance of teamwork and bonds between them, but god dammit if I’m not worried about them,” he cursed. “I know they have the capability to defend themselves. Naruto and Sasuke are coming to the point where they could even surpass me, yet I feel obligated to protect him.”

Humming in agreement, I replied, “As you should. What kind of leader would you be if you just left them to be reckless?”

“I just...The thought of losing anyone else is…” His words trailed off, eyes trained on the memorial stone again.

Tears pricked my eyes. My parents died in the war. I had been injured early on so I wasn’t there to see them die. I only heard about their deaths when the battle ended and their mutilated bodies were found among thousands of others. I didn’t know pain like this man, but I could understand death just like anyone else. Even the happiest people, like Gai, have struggled with loss more times than he would like to count.

Tentatively, my arm went to rest over his shoulders. He didn’t move away from my touch, leaning into my side just slightly. I almost didn’t notice the weight. This man needed touch and affection now more than ever. He was battling a war inside himself as another brewed around him every day.

“I know, Kakashi.”

He kept silent. Pakkun sat in his lap calmly, his eyes shutting as he sunk deeper into thought.

“Sometimes, I worry I’ll forget the faces of my parents who died during that battle. I-I can’t remember what color eyes my mom had, and sometimes I forget my dad had freckles or that one of his ears was just a little longer than the other. I know one day I won’t remember at all, and all my pictures burned in the wreckage…” I confided in the masked ninja, and he let out a long breath. “That’s the worst part for me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I always remind myself that while I forget their faces, I will never forget how they made me feel. How happy I was when my father applauded me at graduation, and how my mother made me the best meals I’ve ever had. In that way, they are always with me.”

His situation ran deeper, I knew that. He killed his friend Rin, and he was forced to watch as his other teammate died being crushed by a boulder. He harboured the boy’s eye every day, acting as a constant reminder that he could only take when he should have saved him. Survivor’s guilt is written on his heart.

As I squeezed his shoulder just a bit tighter to my body, I added, “You owe it to your friends and family to keep living life to the fullest. Just like my parents, your loved ones live through you now.”

He sat calmly for a second, pondering on what I said. I stared out at Konoha, a small smile on my face. The death would always haunt me, but there were always positives, always something to drag a person out of a dark time. With effort, his guilt would lessen. I doubt it would happen that way, Kakashi being too stubborn to forgive himself, but the least we could do is try.

“You’re a good friend, y’know.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Kakashi. Always.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

______________________________________

The mission was turning out to be a big failure. Y/N had wasted away at her reserve of chakra, and Kakashi wasn’t fairing too much better. They would have been sent with more shinobi back up but Tsunade was running short on available ninja, not even a genin to help them. There was so much going on, and this fight was more chaotic than most.

A few hours before, Y/N and Kakashi noticed that enemy shinobi started following them, but from such a distance that it would be better to keep going for as long as they could to regain strength before engaging in combat. Only, they didn’t realize that there were enemies waiting for them as well. It seemed they walked right into a clever trap.

They weren’t prepared. Even the famous Kakashi was worn out from the strain of the mission earlier that day. Constantly, it seemed, they were being attacked.

Regardless, they tried to put up the best fight they could.

But it was futile.

After just 20 minutes of fighting, Y/N was at wits end. She had used up a big portion of her chakra an hour earlier to heal a villager. Her legs ached from running for hours, and her head spun with a migraine from head damage. Before anyone could react, an already weakened kunoichi fell to the ground, half a dozen kunai sticking from her back from a sneak attack in the trees. Her shirt soaked up the blood oozing from her broken skin, and she barely had enough energy to cry out before her face hit the dirt hard. Just as Kakashi turned away from the enemy to see what had happened, one of the kunai, which was tagged, detonated.

Dust flew up in clouds around her as the flames went down. Her clothes were practically seared to the seams, and the awful smell of burnt flesh wafted into the forest around them.

“Y/N!” Kakashi yelled at the sight of her body. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He pressed his hand to the ground and screamed for his summons to come and help him. Anyone that could protect Y/N while he finished this fight alone. His ninken appeared, and immediately they knew what to do. A few of them went to attack the person who was targeting Y/N, leaving the criminal merciless to their vicious nature, meanwhile the rest, including Pakkun ran over to her body, sizzling on the ground with smoke rising from the fabric of her shirt.

With some assistance now in place, Kakashi used the last bit of his chakra to take down the man in front of him, as well as the two to his right and left. Three shinobi down, as well as the one his ninken took down a few seconds ago.

As he took a few breaths, trying to compose himself enough to think clearly, he caught sight of Y/N’s unmoving body, despite the efforts the dogs took to wake her up, to get her to simply twitch to show she was still alive.

Nothing.

His heart began to race with fear. This scene, it was all too familiar. His friends who had died before him, their broken and ruined bodies lying before him to only stare at. He felt helpless. Like years ago, she was near death and he desperately needed to keep her alive. The need inside of him was so strong he couldn’t think of anything else.

Kakashi fell to his knees next to her, quickly moving to yank the kunai from her back and toss them to the side. blood seeped into her blackened clothes and onto the grass below her.

His hands hovered over her form anxiously, not knowing what to do next. He wasn’t a healer. She was the one with the medical ninjutsu up her sleeve. Pakkun noticed his frantic eyes, the way he held his breath as if time had stopped.

“Not my Y/N. Not to her, please, Kami, please,” he begged.

“She’s breathing, Kakashi,” the dog assured, placing his paw onto his master’s arm. “The medcine, Kakashi, she needs the Hokage’s medicine.”

His brain took a moment to think, and soon after he rummaged through the remnants of Y/N’s side bag, searching for the salve Tsunade had given them as they left. “Fuck, why did this have to happen?” Harsh words cursed out under his breath as he cut through the fabric with a kunai to get a full look at the wounds on her back. Soot covered her skin, so he wiped them off the best he could.

One dark spot remained. Under her shoulder blade.

Maybe he should have moved faster, forgot about the black mark on her back, but he couldn’t help but rub away the rest of the dust and dirt to take a closer look. He’d never seen her soul mark. She’d never seen his. They were in places unseen by the casual eye.

And after 20 years of not knowing, they matched. His soulmate. She was right in front of him this entire time. He always felt different toward the woman, in the kind of way they only talk about in romance novels. He never anticipated even meeting his soulmate, but knowing her for 20 years, loving her for this long...it felt surreal.

He pushed down his mask, touching the mark on his chin faintly. Pakkun eyed his master’s mark for a moment before turning to the girl’s. “Kakashi…”

“Shit, forget about that. Let’s just make sure she lives.”

He rubbed the salve onto her wounds, and her body started to shake. The wounds slowly closed, only leaving streaks of blood and dust on her skin. As he turned her body over, he noticed blood dripping from her forehead and wiped it away, pressing a piece of her shirt to the wound to keep pressure steady.

“She won’t wake up for a while. It’s best to take her back to the village, Kakashi.”

He wordlessly nodded, lifting her into his arms and standing up, hugging her weak form to his chest. And so he started his walk back to the hidden leaf.

His whole body felt heavy, worry building up in his heart. They were meant to be together, souls intertwined by fate. He finally found the woman who would love him endlessly. He would be happy once again.

If only it was that easy…

____________________________________________

After being injured on the last mission, I was allowed to take a few weeks off to recover. Apparently, my wounds could have been fatal if not for the salve Tsunade gave us as it contained an antidote to their poisonous weapons. Kakashi did a good job, the nurses told me when I woke up in the crowded hospital room. They told me he saved my life.

“He was so worried about you, Y/N. He ran all the way here from the Land of Fire just to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, he was just about ready to cry when he handed you off to us,” the nurse told me, a small smile on her face. “He really cares about you, Miss Y/N.”

The nurses told me a lot of things while I was being healed. They loved to talk, and Kakashi was a man of much interest apparently. Even though I was in pain, they made it somewhat bearable to sit in the hospital for three days.

Every week, I would go back for a follow up, just to make sure the poison hadn’t reemerged. My last appointment just happened to be with the Hokage herself, her expertise above all others. I worried something might be wrong, as my injuries seemed to be getting better, but needing the Hokage to perform an exam must mean something is wrong. Honestly, I was anxious.

I settled onto the patient’s bench as the powerful woman walked into the room.

“Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good. No pain anymore.”

“Alright, well, I’ll listen to your vitals, check your blood stream and chakra flow, and hopefully you’ll be out of here in no time,” she told me, doing as she said she would. I laid on the bench and let her medical chakra flow through me, searching for abnormalities.

After that, I sat up for her to check on my back, which was just about finished healing and scaring. Every shinobi has scars, and thankfully these are hidden under my shirt at all times. Big red welts sat there for a week to the point where it hurt to even wear a shirt because the fabric rubbed against them.

She lifted my shirt, her cold finger running along the healing wounds. Suddenly, her fingers stopped, right under my shoulder.

“Well, that’s quite...shocking.”

“Something wrong?” I piped up, peeking at her from over my shoulder. Her eyes were trained onto my back, eyes widened.

“No, it’s not a problem,” she lowered my shirt, and patted her hands together. “Good news is that you’re completely fine, no complications.”

“Bad news?”

“More good news, I suppose,” the woman told me, her lips quirking into a half grin. “Your necklace is gorgeous. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off it since you started wearing it, to be honest. Sakura told me Kakashi gave it to you.” She sighed, touching the crystal hanging close to my heart.

With a smile, I nodded, eyeing the stone myself. “It’s one of my most prized possessions,” I gushed, heat returning to my cheeks as I thought about receiving the gift.

“Then I have some great news for you.” She let go of my necklace and stepped back a bit, crossing her arms under her breasts. “You and your beloved have the same soulmark. It seems Kakashi is your soulmate.”

My heart stopped beating in my chest for a second. Wide eyes met her neutral ones, and I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to it. “I’ve healed Kakashi time and time again, so I know his mark. It’s under his mask, so you would never get the chance to see it. Yet, it matches yours perfectly. Congratulations.”

“Lady Hokage, I-I...Thank you for telling me! This is all I’ve been wishing for for years. Meeting my soulmate, I’ve only ever thought about it in my dreams. I-I can’t believe it.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/N. You and Kakashi will have a mission in 2 days, I suggest you tell him sometime then, when you have time together,” she advised. I nodded gratefully.

She bid me a goodbye and shut the door as she left. My heart was still in overdrive as I processed what she had just told me.

I would just have to wait a few days and then I could tell him everything. It would be the best day of my life.

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goldenfawnwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Birds of A Feather- Part 11 Hawks fic

Summary: It’s been a long work week and Finch finds herself going home alone again. How long will this last? On the other side Hawks is asking himself the same thing as he watches her walk away.

Warnings: Angst, violence, catastrophe y’know the good stuff.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy!

Finally the work week was over. Finch was beyond tired and stressed from the blatant tenseness between her and her boss. She was way too excited to get off and run for the door, as she knew Asami was waiting on her at their usual bar.

Hawks almost stopped her. He didn’t know what in the world had her so excited but he brushed it off, sitting at his desk for some time longer. He really couldn’t get her out of his mind but at the same time, he was kinda pissed off at her. He didn’t understand why she was being like this, so stone cold with him. She never did that before, she never really cared what he did. Not that there was another woman in the picture then either. But he was being honest, she was just a friend that came to visit. Nothing was going on between them.

Finch didn’t care. Even if he was telling the truth she didn’t want to risk getting her heart broken and possibly losing her job. As she rushed off to meet her best friend she shoved the thoughts out of her mind of him. She had worn something a little fancier than usual to work today and Hawks had half a mind to ask what was going on but he kept his mouth shut. A pinkish red blouse, swooping down and showing her bare back, a slightly shorter pencil skirt, and a pair of nude heels. She wasn’t usually in brighter colors, he noticed. She had also stopped wearing the hair pin he had gotten her, which hurt his feelings a bit but he wouldn’t admit it.

When she got to the bar they began drinking, laughing and dancing, having a good time. Finch was relieved to not think about Hawks for just a moment but that soon ended. As a good looking man with an odd quirk approached her, she gave Asami a knowing look.

“Hey girls! I’m Yanaka, we just wanted to know if you guys might want to join our group?”

Asami glanced over, spotting the three guys across the crowded bar. She looked at Finch, who was obviously what he came here for.

“S-sure we’d love to!”

She replied, her face reddened with alcohol. As they moved to where the other group was Asami kept an eye on Finch, squinting when Yanaka ran a hand across her bare, lower back, leading her across the room. She didn’t know about this guy and his group of friends. She was really concerned about how Finch was acting, she usually was more reserved and it didn’t bother her at first but now she was a little concerned.

The night was going well enough, she kept her eye on Finch who eventually went out to the dance floor with Yanaka. She was trying to keep an eye on her while holding up a conversation with the other two guys, They talked about a bunch of everything and nothing but it was getting harder to keep track of doing both. She didn’t even realize when she lost sight of the two, looking back while laughing before it hit her, her eyes widening in panic. They were gone from the dance floor.

About 20 minutes later when Finch still hadn’t come back into sight she started to really get worried. The other two guys were constantly trying to change the subject and change the topic, which only made it worse, Asami getting up and excusing herself to the restroom, the only place she knew they wouldn’t follow. Locking herself in a stall she pulled out her phone, trying to call Finch, text her, still not getting any reply and after 3 minutes she was in tears. She was praying nothing happened like last time, that maybe she was just freaking out for no reason, but she couldn’t calm herself down.

In a last ditch attempt she texted someone she knew Finch wouldn’t agree with. She was desperate, typing with shaking hands, begging him to do anything.

When she wiped her tears in the mirror and rejoined the group she was still scanning the dance floor looking for Finch as the two guys talked her ear off. She never got a reply from Hawks but about 10 minutes later she spotted him from across the room, walking towards her. She gave him a desperate look as she made his way to her.

“Hey miss sparky, who are these guys?”

“U-uh, this is Aito, and Haruma, Yanaka was with Finch, I’m not sure where they went.”

She exchanged information smoothly and without suspicion, smiling as she introduced the two men sitting on each side of her.

“Ya, man, he’s probably just having a smoke or something, no big deal!”

Auto assured him. Hawks gave Asami a look and she shot on back.

“Well, uh, why don’t you stay here, and I’ll get us some drinks Star.”

She nodded a little too quickly but knew she could play it off as if she just had a crush to the two other men. She swallowed hard, watching Hawks walk off into the crowd. She knew he wasn’t too pleased with what was going on but, he was the only one who she could think of that would help.

He walked the perimeter of the club and bar, scanning through people. He knew she must be wearing the same clothes as earlier, it was too early for her to have stopped to change. As he made his way to the back alley of the club his stomach sunk. He just had a bad feeling. Right before he rounded the corner into the alley he stopped, posting up against the wall as he listened. It was her voice.

“I-I don’t know Yanaka, we should probably get back, Im sure my friend is worried by n-now...”

“Aw peach, don’t worry~ This’ll only take a second...”

“Yanaka please, I don't-”

“Aw just be a good girl for me ya?”

Hawks was so very close to rounding the corner and stopping him but he waited just a second longer, just until he heard Finch squeal and the sound of a slap. He raced around the corner, setting eyes on the girl, her wings trapped against the brick wall and the slimy guy pinning her there.

He was silent as he walked up behind the guy, Finch’s eyes squeezed shut as she waited for what he assumed was another slap across the face, judging by the red mark on her cheek. He grabbed the guys shoulder, catching him by surprise as he turned him around, punching him square in the jaw. The man’s yell was cut off as he fell, scrambling away from Hawks with a hand holding his jaw.

“H-hey what the hell man!”

“Finch it’s time to go.”

Hawks growled, grabbing the girl by the arm and dragging her out of the alley. Finch was stumbling behind him and Hawks was getting more and more frustrated, whipping her around in front of him and steadying her once they got out of the alley and away from the sleezeball.

“How do you not learn?! Why did you come back here after what happened last time?!”

She stuttered, her face reddened. He couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or alcohol.

“I-I didn’t need you to s-save me-”

She slurred. Hawks sighed angrily and picked up her phone from her hand, calling Asami.

“I’ve got her she’s fine. Just get home please. I don’t need another person to worry about.”

He grumbled, hanging up without giving Asami time to respond.

“What the hell is with you? This is the second time you’ve done this- It’s like you want something to happen-”

“I didn’t want anything to happen Hawks! I just wanted to have a good time!”

She yelled back at him, ripping her arm away from his grip. He quickly caught it again, pulling her closer.

“All you ever do is get yourself in trouble Finch, and I have to come save you-”

“I didn’t need your help! I was fine!”

“Oh ya, fine! Totally fine! With the pervert groping you up in a dirty back alley?!”

“Maybe!”

Hawks didn’t respond, the pause giving her enough time to let it sink in as her eyes started to water.

“Oh- don’t cry-”

It was too late. She was full on bawling.

“I’m fine! I can be fine on my own, I don’t need anyone to take care of me like a child!”

She cried, furiously wiping away her own tears with her sleeves. Hawks wasn’t sure what to do.

“S-stop crying, let’s just go home, you’re drunk.”

“I don’t want to go home with you, I’ll make it home fine by myself, leave me alone.”

She started walking down the street by herself and Hawks had half a mind to let her, but after what had happened he wasn’t even sure she’d remember tonight, let alone make it all the way home.

“Come one love bird don't be like that~”

He called, giving her his best sultry voice. Maybe if he played nice she would mind. She froze where she stood.

“Let me at least make sure you get home alright.”

He requested. She sighed before nodding, still not facing him. And so he followed her on her walk home, staying a few feet behind her the whole time. He didn’t want to push her any more than he had.

“Hawks, why did you come tonight?”

“Asami called-”

“Ya but, why did you actually come? You could’ve just told her it wasn’t your problem.”

“I-I’m a hero, I save people, it’s my job.”

She was silent then. It was just his job, not his feelings. There was nothing meaningful about it, just his responsibility. She silently sighed, getting to her front door of her apartment and fumbling with the keys. Hawks gently took them, unlocking the door for her. She paused before she went in, turning back to Hawks to say something when suddenly he was kissing her. After a second she responded deepening it as his hands gently ran across her waist and his fingers grazed along her bare back.

“I’m sorry for tonight...”

He panted when they separated. She only nodded silently.

“And I’m sorry for kissing you-”

“Don’t be.”

She cut him off lowly, suddenly aware of how short her skirt had became, getting hiked up slightly throughout the night. She pulled it back into place, brushing off her blouse.

“Um... Can I kiss you again?”

He wondered, giving her a look with pin prick pupils. She cleared her throat.

“H-Hawks, I had a question actually...”

Her wings puffed slightly and she tried in vain to smooth them with her hands.

“Can I tell you something first?”

He stopped her, his eyes hooded as he looked over her. She nodded and waited and after a moment of him not replying she went to speak but was cut off. He pulled her into another kiss, her face blushing hotly as he wrapped his arms around her, braking away to kiss at her neck.

“H-hawks~”

“Call me Keigo sweetheart.”

Finch let out a low gasp, as she let her head fall back slightly to give him more access.

“Why don’t we go inside gorgeous?”

She only nodded in reply, pulling him inside the apartment. They continued their make out session on the couch, Hawks pushing her down onto her back gently.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for awhile now...”

He trailed off. She replied before he could continue.

“Ke-Keigo, I really like you.”

“I’m in love with you Finch.”

She blushed hotly and carded her fingers through his hair gently, pulling on the locks slightly.

“Then kiss me again.”

She replied, blushing hard. He gave a coy smirk before granting her wish.

#hawks #Hawks fanfic #bnha hawks #mha hawks

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scenarihoes · 6 years ago

Note

it looks like your requests are still open, so I’m comin in hot wiiiith some spicy nonsense: how do you feel about a shinsou x reader nsfw scenario? shinsou’s got dirty-talking dom vibes to me and i’m weak 😩💦 if there happens to be orgasm denial/edging and/or overstimulation involved i would love you forever, just so you know 😉😏💜

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOF

HUUUUGE AUTHORS NOTE! PLEASE READ!

ok so. only bout half this fic is finished LOL i really really really wanted to finish all of it, but i really just couldnt bring myself to.. it’s like, done? but not entirely polished yknow? that being said please excuse typos and grammar issues in the second half.. again, im really sorry!

please enjoy what i have regardless! i promise its still, how do i say,

hot.

—————

Hour One.

With narrowed eyes and lips pressed into a tight line, irritation makes it hard for Shinsou to shove the key into the lock properly. He’s glaring at you from the corners of his vision, taking in your smug posture and the corners of your lips upturned mischievously. It’s just barely past 10 pm and he can already feel the draw pulling him in with every step you take despite his annoyances.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” he says dully, hanging his coat on the rack while the door clicks shut. His fingers work his tie off his neck. “I should have known something like this would happen.”

You hum, bemused. “I’m afraid I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You were practically eye-fucking me the whole night in front of everyone.”

“It’s not like they were watching me. All eyes were on you.”

“Exactly.” Shinsou grunts as he slips his shoes off and nudges them on the mat with his toes. “You wear my brain out, acting like that just for a reaction.”

You bring a hand on to your mouth, a fake gasp sounding. “Why I would never!”

Choosing the perfect moment, you bend down and contort yourself just right to bare your thong for him. Your short dress offers a spectacular view, along with your V neck that cuts just a little bit too low. He knew you’d pick that one, he really did. It always got him a little hot under the collar and you took every chance you could to exploit that little fact.

Before you can even start to pull your heels off, bend over with one hand pressed against the door while the other words at the straps, you feel palms suddenly on either side of your hips. Instantly you’re grinning ear to ear.

“You’re always doing things like this to me in public,” he speaks like it doesn’t matter to him, but it does. He’s so bothered and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Making me work just to keep a straight face. You’re lucky I didn’t drag you into the bathroom and make you walk back out full of my cum.”

“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you have?” Dangerous, devious, you press both hands flat to the wall and rut yourself against him. When he responds equally as lustful, you can’t help but snicker at him. “I thought you said you were tired.”

“I said you wear my brain out, not that I was tired. Besides, do you honestly believe you deserve to just get a pass for tonight?”

Already Shinsou’s half hard against you, tenting in his formal pants. The grip on your waist tightens and while usually this would be the moment he pulls away with irritated grunt, he holds fast. He lets himself grind against you in such a easy, languid pace. Your breath catches in your throat when one of this hands wanders away and finds itself grasping your forearm. Without much time to brace yourself your hand is yanked from the wall and brought behind your back, then your other arm follows suite. He nudges your chest to the wall and clicks his tongue when you giggle.

“Don’t you think you’re enjoying this a little too much?” He taunts.

“I would enjoy it a whole lot more if you started actually touching me.”

Suddenly you’re shoved forward, cheek hitting the wall. He holds your arms taut behind your back. “What did I say about getting off easy?” He damn near growls. “During the downtime between your little stunts I had a lot of time to think about what I planned doing to you once we got home.”

“You fantasized about me while conversing with your friends? Now, what would they do if they found out everyone's favorite hero had such a dirty mind?”

His hand leaves your waist and a sharp smack is delivered to your ass. You hiss between your teeth as he brings his lips close to your ear. “Probably the same thoughts they’d have should they find out said hero’s wife is such a cock-hungry slut.”

Shinsou can feel a shiver rippling through you while his teeth clip and graze the skin of your neck, one hand strong enough to hold both your arms tucked behind your back while other starts to explore further. His broad palm hovers only an inch above your skin and he makes sure you’re aware of the way he just barely misses your breasts. Only when you try to arch into his palms does he pull away and instead find his hand catching your throat.

“You’re awfully impatient. You’ve had the whole night to prepare for this and you’re already rushing?”

“I haven’t been preparing anything. I’ve been waiting. I’ve had to wait the whole night for this,” Over your shoulder, you glance at him deviously. “Waited the whole night just for you fuck me. You should consider yourself lucky.”

Shinsou’s eyebrows raise like he can’t actually believe what you’re saying. It only takes a moment of processing before the lights of his eyes darken, his grip tightening, and you nearly wheeze at his thumb and index alone cutting your breath off. “I’m lucky?”

Despite your position you still giggle. “I could have done so much worse.”

Something in him shakes, and then ruptures. It’s nothing in anger, or disdain, but it’s not soft either. He nearly let’s a growl leave him but for the sake of control, he withholds it.

“Worse?” Your body is pushed forward and held even tighter to the wall. “Believe me, I’m going to show you worse.”

————-

Hour two.

Funny how quickly everything can change in the blink of an eye. Seed to flower, sun to rain, spring to winter.

Deviosity to utter and entire frustration. Neediness, too. Neediness above all else.

Your back would press flat to to his chest if not for the way you fervently arch away from him. Lips on your neck to suck dark marks into your skin, one hand eagerly fondling the mounds of your breast while the other makes sure to pay close attention in making sure the vibrating wand is pressed nice and tightly to your clit. Squirming is futile with the unrelenting vibrations- he’s got you stuck fast in your place. From the moment you were trapped against the wall by the frame of him, a promise to take you apart slipping from his lips, you were silently begging for something more than just the feeling of his clothed cock pressed between your legs.

Even with the rush, he was sure that every step he made guiding you to the bedroom was calculated. The dress was gone long ago and abandoned onto the floor like it hadn’t cost you almost half a grand. Your heels followed suit but you didn’t mind that loss- they were starting to hurt your feet, after all. Your unsurprising lack of undergarments drove him insane but the man was able to hold back his ferocious need to destroy you right there.

He even approached it with humor. From the closet he retrieved a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs you’d bought as a joke. You watch in both anticipation as well as disbelief when he approached, ordered you to put your hands behind your back. Of course you obliged without too much tenacity. Make me, you wanted to tell him with a snarky grin, but the gleam in his eyes warns you that he just may. With ease he clips your arms behind your back, but the metal isn’t slapped around your wrists. He connects the cuffs on your upper arms and lets the fur sit snug, high enough on your forearms so that your chest is beautifully pushed outwards.

“Since you’re so eager to show all this off,” he’d remarked as he climbed behind you, kept you on your knees and used his own to ensure your legs were spread. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem with this.”

The moment he brought a vibrator and pressed it between your legs, you knew you were finished. He himself knew it all, could count in his head how long it would take before you met your resolve and melted into a puddle of need in his hands. As he looks at you, nudges the vibrator just a little higher up so you buck your hips with a whine, he congratulates himself. It makes him laugh, unbeknownst to you.

An entire evening of being patted on the back for his latest success and this was his crowning moment.

“Feel good?” He coos in a facade of sweetness. He kisses trails up and down the sides of your throat, eyes shut serenely. You whimper in his hold and a sickening grin plays on his lips, only to grow with every rattle of the cuffs. The sound reaches him like an upcoming victory, reminds him that you’re at his mercy all over again. How can he not get drunk off the feeling?

How can he not nibble your skin and roll the head of the toy against your clit just to make you gasp so cutely? You’re already shaking and it spurs him on even further, then suddenly he rolls the vibrator once more and your voice jumps an octave as it presses against your nerves at just the right spot. He holds it there, let’s you thrash and squirm as it almost becomes too much even before it’s entirely begun. You’ve yet to come even once, let alone feel the rapture he’s planning to bestow upon you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi-” Your head tips back. “Fuck-”

This is his favorite part. He waits like a predator, listens to the ruggedness of your breathing, watches your hands curl into tight, useless fists. You’re already close and it makes his skin buzz as his plans start to unravel right there on the bed. Your back arches, you thrash, he waits for you to tense and then it’s gone. He tears the toy away from your rolling hips before you can reach that perfect high.

Your reaction is feral and it lights him aflame. Aggravation and desperation looks so much better on you than any whorish dress you could ever even hope to taunt him with.

Hands fisting and unfisting, trapped between your bodies, all you can do is curse his name while your release begrudgingly climbs back down. Shinsou laughs like a sadist and shifts demeanors as though he’s a damn actor on broadway- one moment someone and the next a different person entirely. The laughter dies into soft hums, his grin snuffs into a gentle smile and he kisses the hickies on your neck and below your ear.

Soft voice, tongue lapping at your skin. “Were you close?”

All you can do is groan in response, bothered at the loss of your orgasm. He tsks, reaches up and grips a hand to your throat. Someone else, now.

“You should have expected this.”

“God, please, I was right there.” Your voice shakes and it only excites him. It makes him want to push you even further, but it’s all reruns. He’s taken you apart time and time again to the point where he’s turned you into the defination of the word mess, but damn if it isn’t fun to pretend it’s all shiny and new.

“That’s the point.” He doesn’t want you to come down too far, so he turns vibrator down to the lowest setting and offers you just the softest of pleasure. You take it like a luxury, grinding down against feeling instantly to your heart's content. With the low setting, it’s nowhere near enough stimulation to get you off but fuck if you won’t try your hardest to get there anyways. Like a challenge, Shinsou welcomes it, grins against your skin and keeps his palm to your neck while you roll your hips.

When you find that you really can’t meet your end, he eats up the frustrated whine you offer.

Your begging comes as natural as day to night. It’s not babbles, you haven’t been pushed far enough. He snickers to himself. Yet.

“Hitoshi,” You whine, sweet and submissive. “Please let me cum.”

“Oh?” He breathes against your shoulder. “Maybe I will, just to watch you cry for me.” He throws you a line with evil intentions. “Tell me, are you sorry for what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” The depth of your voice let’s him know that you think this is all there is. An apology, an empty promise. “I’m sorry baby, please let me cum, I won’t do it again. I want to cum so bad…”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Shinsou laughs.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

———-

hour three.

it’s amazing just how much self control he’s gained over the years. had he been just a bit younger, he would have pounced the moment he pressed your body to the mattress and let the blankets fall in heaps around the edge. but, he’s glad he’s older now. glad he’s learned to really stop and smell the roses.

glad he’s learned to hold back just to take the back seat view as you practically fall apart in front of him.

with your face buried in your pillow, some of your pretty keens are slightly muffled, which is mildly disappointing. shinsou can deal with it, though. after all he’s much more interested in the way you’re still trying to chase your long since held off orgasm.

he’s still behind you but his demeanors had some altercations. he’s centered now, refocused. his hand drags the ever buzzing toy up and down your clit while you feebly try to match the pace with the rocking of your hips. he can’t imagine it’s comfortable with your arms trapped behind your back but hey, you’ve earned that. if anything it just enforces the idea that it’s exactly what it always was: punishment.

‘look at you, you’re a mess.’ he hums like he’s bored. ‘running your mouth about how my friends would feel if they found i was dirty minded, look at yourself.’

‘please-‘

‘don’t bother. you’ll cum when i say you can cum. until then, be good.’ he holds the toy straight to your clit and clicks it up a notch, tilts his head, watches when your hands curl into fists and your hips jerk. ‘think you can do that for me, hm? be good?’

you nod frantically and shake like a leaf. ‘y-yes si- fuck! yes sir!’

sir. it sounds nice in his head, he smugly leans back, that sadistic energy he started with resonating within him like a returning storm. he chuckles low in his chest and leans back so leisurely you’d nearly miss his erection should you sneak a glance.

he jumps the vibrator up to the highest sitting and he can’t hold back a grin when you arch and sob, rut your hips and still yourself until you’re finally climbing back up to that incredible edge. he lets you do it, too. he lets you moan and whimper and cry his name until you’re right there all over again. you’re trembling so hard it’s a wonder you don’t bust to pieces right there. your voice leaps higher, higher, you’re right there and pressing your clit flush against the buzzing sensation-

the pitiful scream that tears from your throat when he turns the toy off almost makes him feel bad.

almost.

tears spring from your eyes and he knows he’s finally won. you don’t even bother begging him at that point, face buried and cries muffles in the damp fabric of your pillow. it pulls at his heart in a strange way, but not enough for him to give in. not that easily. he just needs some assurance, a little confirmation that you’re his good girl and that you’ve learned your damn lesson.

he comforts you, pets his hands down the sweating curve of your spine and back up. you’re writhing in absolute need, aching for a release he’s been denying you for the better half of three hours. a deep, pensive sigh leaves him.

‘look at me,’ he says, and you do so without question. you look pitiful. crazy to think sex could turn you so pathetic before him. he runs his fingers through your hair, lets his eyes fall half lidded. ‘are you sorry?’

a hiccup leaves you as you nod. he nods as well.

‘and you’ve learned your lesson?’

‘yes sir.’ even through your choked sobs, you manage a steady voice long enough to answer him. it impresses him, brings a swell to his chest.

———-

hour four.

very gingerly, he nudges the toy against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting. you’re so over sensitive that you hiss through your teeth, eyes slipping shut, hips instantly rocking back against the familiar feeling. shinsou wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t trust him to let you follow through his time.

‘you wanna cum?’ he murmurs, and you nod, still trying to catch your breath while the intensity is low enough.

ah, what the hell.

he flicks it’s to the middle setting and sits back to watch you gasp and start to shake all over again. he torments you with that low vibration, lets you pretend to fuck yourself on the toy, rocking back and forth and stilling as it finds the perfect nerves to harass.

though it’s not the intensity you’d been begging for, he can see that it’s enough for you. your whimpers, curling toes and fingers, stuttering hips and twitching knees. you approach your end as quickly as it fell moments ago, but this time, shinsou doesn’t back down.

he lets you find the rise and the peak, and finally, finally the fall. god, how you crash around him. sputtered and broken moans spill from your throat like prayers, his name joining the mix in a beautiful chorus as you arch your back and rut your hips in tiny circles. you’re trembling but you’re still, the toy buzzing against your clit while your nerves travel in shivering waves of pleasure through the course of your body.

you’re babbling something through your ogasm as you ride it out, and only when he stops to listen does he really grasp what you’re subconsciously saying.

‘thank you sir, thank you, thank you, oh f-fuck, nggh- thank you,-‘

still rocking to ride the last of the euphoria out, shinsou feels pity in his chest when he gets the perfect idea. that same feeling when you’d first started to cry before him rises like a monument within him, but it’s not enough to deter his intentions.

you’ve still got a lesson to learn, after all. a little bit of tears was no promise.

as the last of your pleasure ebbs away, he remains where he is. he gets to watch like a spectator as your writhes of pleasure alternate and transform into a struggle to get away, hips cantering forward to escape the toy still remains ever pressed to your clit.

‘please- i can’t-!’ you gasp through your struggles to escape the pleasure, but he works you even deeper, works you ever harder. he jumps the intensity to high and holds your hips with his free hand just to keep you still while he presses it exactly where you can feel it the most. there’s nothing you can do but take it, the mind numbing pleasure, all too much as you’re forced to the edge all over again.

‘you can.’ he states as he watches. you arch and cry out through whimpered gasps, eyes squeezed shut, body tensed and stiff, you’re pushed into another orgasm before you even realize it. sharp keens make him wonder if you’re in pain, metaphorical stars dancing behind your eyelids. he pets you again as if he’s not the source of your agonizing pleasure.

‘no more, no more,’ you try to roll on your side to deter the feeling but shinsous got you in such a tight grasp that you can’t even rock your hips anymore. while your upper half is free to struggle in vain, your lower half is at his mercy. he makes sure you’re feeling it all as he lowers it to medium, only to jump it back to high when you’re finally able to start coming down.

———

hour four.

once more an onslaught of tears leak down your cheeks as incorrect please leave you. you cum again, and again, and again while he keeps his grip tight on your waist. everything feels like its too much, you’re shaking too much, feeling too much-

you cum again and something about the way you openly sob into the pillow makes him consider the simple concept of mercy. you’re so spent he knows you’re going to be sexed-out for the rest of the week, which in some ways, sucks, but this is too good to miss out on. the entire night had been perfect from the moment you boldly decided to tease him in plain sight to the instant you were beneath him torn apart by his very hands.

a deep breaths leaves him. you’ve learned your lesson.

‘good girl,’ he says, but he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he lowers the setting to medium, and then low, let’s you rut off the last of your final orgasm before he grants you the bliss of turning it off entirely. the very second you find yourself offered mercy, you turn to putty.

no energy, no drive, nothing left as you tip over onto your side and shake with the aftershocks. your arm tucks itself beneath you uncomfortably but your mind is elsewhere. given that it’s his fault, after all, shinsou decides it’s finally time to take care of you. he scoops you up into his arm and sighs deep into your hair, shuts his eyes and presses the latch on the cuffs that let you go free both metaphorically and physically. you don't even have the energy to wrap your arms around his shoulders. had there not been a lesson to be learned, he would have felt bad for pushing you so far overboard.

but this had been a lesson, so he doesn’t.

as he kisses the top of your head, he coos, ‘good girl.’ you pant and shake in his arms. ‘you were so good for me. are you okay?’

you can't speak, but you can nod, and so you do. slowly, languid in your exhaustion, you nod with shut eyes. shinsou smiles and breathes a laugh of relief, even though he knew you would be anyways.

his erection pressed against your back but he can’t bring himself to subject you to anything further. he very well could, gently fuck you and have you cum for him just one more time, but he decides against it. you’re beyond tired, and he can wait. what you need is a bath and 12 hours of good, deep, rest.

you’re still thankfully coherent as he gets up and carries you with him, bringing you to the bathroom connected to the bedroom. he sets you in the hardness of the tub and crawls in behind you, runs his hand through your hair and kisses the dark hickies he’s painted onto the canvas of your throat while he makes the water run.

he coos your name, and you make some noise of acknowledgement.

‘i love you.’ he murmurs, and if humans could purr, you would have done so. he smiled against your skin and whispers it again, three times, four and then he lets the hot water lull you to sleep.

the bath is warm against his skin, and he kisses the top of your head once more.

the perfect night.

#bnha #mha #shinsou hitoshi #lemon #i hatte that tag LOL #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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stunt-lads · 6 years ago

Text

Destiny’s gift;

Cordelia’s gift (but a travel mug tho);

Matt’s gift;

Pitch’s gift; Pitch's sweater;

Deyanira’s gift (from pitch); Deya's bedroom

for extra ambience feel free to listen to this if ya want

fun fact i forgot the word bedpost while writing this :))))

Cordelia, Matt, Destiny, Deyanira and Tyrant are mine

Nox and Jackilyn are @thisgirllovesherfandoms' and im just borrowing them

He never thought he’d see her frazzled, thought the first and last time she let her guard down so much would be after their disastrous fake date. That was until the holidays rolled around.

The first few weeks into December things went okay. Deyanira was her normal self, snarky and catty, the way he liked her if he was being honest with himself.

Jackilyn’s twin sister came to visit a few days before they would both leave to go home. The first time they met her, it was jarring for both Pitch and Jack to meet someone who looked identical to the bubbly and upbeat Jackilyn but was her complete opposite in fashion, personality, and attitude.

Deyanira treated them all to a movie and dinner, insisting on paying since her boss, North, was always incredibly generous with hours and holiday pay when December came around.

Pitch didn’t know why Jackilyn kept asking if Deyanira was going to be alright. She asked, no exaggeration, at least six times over the course of two days. Every time Deyanira insisted she was fine and things were planned and good to go, a fond smile on her face at Jackilyn’s worrying.

A few days after she saw the twins off to the bus station her facade began to crack. Her normally calm demeanor was beginning to wear down as her family called to make more and more plans and make sure things were still ready to go.

Pitch found it fascinating.

When he saw Jack off to the train station a week after Jackilyn and Nox left Deyanira looked about ready to snap. A near constant twitch was in her left eye and she looked like she hadn’t slept in a month.

He knew Destiny was a lot for Deyanira but that couldn’t be the only thing. He decided to figure it out and walked over one morning, knocking on her door, two coffees in hand.

When she opened it she looked exhausted, bags under her eyes, her hair disheveled and her clothes crumpled like she slept in them. Or hadn’t changed out of them for a few days. Grey pajama bottoms and a band logo he didn’t recognize was on her shirt.

He handed a coffee to her without a word and she was tired enough to smile gratefully and sincerely.

“Peppermint?” She asked after taking a sip and he smirked, nodding.

“‘Tis the season after all.” He sipped his own coffee, “I thought caffeine might be better than hot chocolate for you.”

She laughed softly and stepped aside. Welcoming him easily into her home. He walked in, impressed when he saw the setup. Their tree hadn’t been up before Jackilyn left but it was now, and completely decorated too, plus all the gifts were wrapped and perfectly placed underneath it.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, walking past him and pushing wrapping paper and bows off the couch and ungracefully onto the floor, “My mom’s a stickler for tradition and it has to be perfect.”

She collapsed onto the couch, sighing with exhaustion, he sat beside her staring at the tree, it was nice, not real of course, he doubted a real tree was something Deyanira would buy, but it was decorated completely with the lights strung and ready to be plugged in.

He smiled when he saw some of the decorations, no doubt gifts from Nox, a skeleton here, a coffin there, and a--

“Is that a mouse skull?” He asks and it startles her a little from her doze, she jerks awake and he feels bad, but then she smiles and laughs.

“Yeah, Jackilyn found out I collect bones and found a mouse skull turned into an ornament at a garage sale.” She smiles fondly and he feels his heart race a little, he doesn’t think about why, “It’s normally in my room, but I bring it out around the holidays.”

She groans as she stands, stretching and shuffling into the kitchen, “Well, that’s enough of a break for now, I have to start baking and making food for Christmas.”

“Do you want help?” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but he doesn’t doubt his decision when she looks at him hopefully, “Jack’s not here and my family doesn’t visit for the holidays, so I’m not doing anything anyways.”

“Honestly that would help a lot.” She pauses and then her familiar smirk is back, “So long as you don’t burn the food.”

He rolls his eyes, barely containing his own smirk, “No promises.”

They mesh well and before long the baking of all the cookies is done, the rest of the wrapping is done, and even the food is prepped for Christmas, what can be prepped anyways, and she looks so relieved and relaxed as they sit together on her couch, watching cheesy monster movies interspersed with Christmas movies.

“So, since you helped, I suppose it’s only polite that I invite you to Christmas dinner.” She says as she picks a new movie off Netflix, “If you don’t have any plans anyways I mean.”

“...Is this going to be as disastrous as our fake date?” He asks and grins at the glare she shoots at him.

“Dunno, buut I doubt it, Destiny is...subdued around our parents.”

He feels like there’s something there, something she doesn’t talk about, but he doesn’t pry, it’s not his place. Not yet anyway, but he files the info away for a later date.

“Well, sure I guess,” He pauses as the opening title begins playing on the tv, “Wait, do I have to wear a Christmas sweater?”

She laughs, “Absolutely. As gaudy as you can actually. It’s something I always do, it irritates my mother and my dad loves them.”

“Perfect, I have a terrible one that I always wear.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, neither one thinking much as they lean on each other and intertwine their fingers while they watch the movie.

Her family shows up at roughly noon on the 23rd of December. Or...most of her family.

He knows this because he hears a dog barking and it draws his attention enough to open the door.

He sees a beast of a German Shepherd and Deyanira kneeling before it, cooing softly and smiling so genuinely his heart stops for a second. She sees him and he thinks he imagines the way her eyes light up and her smile broadens.

“Pitch!” She sounds so excited and he just smiles awkwardly, raising an eyebrow slightly, “Dad, this is Pitch, he’s a friend.”

Pitch now realizes Destiny is in the hallway as well, with a man he’s never seen before, who reaches a hand out readily to shake his.

Pitch, still in pajamas suddenly feels embarrassed and on display but he composes himself and smiles easily, shaking the man’s hand.

“Pitch, this is my father Matthew Todd.”

“Pleasure to meet you Mr. Todd.” He speaks easily and shakes the man’s hand firmly.

Matthew laughs and it's deep and genuine, “I’m just Matt.”

“You already know Destiny,” Deyanira continues, unperturbed by the fact Pitch is in pajamas -- and he’s sure she’s aware how awkward he feels.

Destiny for her part smiles and gives a polite nod to him, “And this.” Deyanira says, grabbing the sides of the dog’s face and smooshing it lovingly, “Is Tyrant.”

She dissolves into baby talk that has the dog wiggling his whole body with his excited tail wagging. Pitch doesn’t miss the muzzle on the dog, or the spiked collar, and hesitates.

“Is he friendly?” He asks as he kneels beside the dog as well.

“Not at all!” Deyanira says cheerfully and Pitch laughs, but he knows how to deal with dogs and holds his hand out to let the big guy smell him. Tyrant tenses and Pitch is grateful for the barrier between them, but then, just as suddenly as he tensed, he’s relaxed again and pushing his body against Pitch for pets.

Pitch isn’t the only one who is surprised by the mood shift, especially not if Destiny’s soft hum and Deyanira’s gentle gasp are anything to go by. No one says anything aside from Deyanira starting to gush and praise the dog while Pitch stands up.

“Get dressed and come over.” Matt says as they all herd into Deyanira’s apartment, and Pitch nods before going to do just that.

Things go amazingly, Matt is incredibly funny and lighthearted and Destiny loves talking about some of the clients she gets, no names of course, but some of the stories are too good not to share.

Tyrant lets him pet him and scratch behind his ears, and even, much to everyone else’s surprise, lets Pitch play tug-o-war with him on the floor. When he lays down to sleep later, exhausted from playing, he lays at Pitch and Deyanira’s feet.

Pitch feels like he’s home, or rather, like he’s with Jack’s family, and it’s nice.

“Oh, Dey, mother will be arriving tomorrow morning.” Destiny says as they wind down and Pitch considers heading home, the mood shifts suddenly and even Matt seems to shift uncomfortably.

“...Okay.” Is all she says and Pitch files it away with the other comment she had made.

At 10 pm he heads home, with Deyanira seeing him out the door and chewing her lip nervously. He feels a tension set in when she closes the door behind her, standing in the hallway with him, and he eyes her curiously.

“Will you...” She licks her lips and he can feel how vulnerable she is from posture and body language alone, “Please come back tomorrow. Please spend Christmas with m--us.”

It’s a whisper, like she’s conspiring, and he knows how she must feel in that instant and does what he does best.

“I had already planned on it. You invited me earlier in the week and if you think I’m giving up free food, you’re mad.”

Her relief is palpable and he grins when she rolls her eyes, “Leave it to you to just want to come over for the free food.”

“Of course. What else do you think I visit for?” He snarks and then his breath catches in his throat as she hugs him tight.

“Thank you.” She whispers and then she’s gone, back inside her apartment and he’s left blinking in the hallway, heart racing and stomach in knots.

He doesn’t think about the feelings and what they mean as he heads inside his own apartment.

He understood, when she arrived, why Jackilyn had asked if Deya was going to be okay roughly 20 times. He also understood why Destiny and Deyanira both were so tense around their mother.

He didn’t really follow fashion, but he never thought that Cordelia Todd was their mother. It made sense in hindsight, how many people realistically have the last name Todd, and how could Destiny have afforded to travel for the years she did, but he never made the connection until she arrived.

She was...something.

Pitch was already at Deyanira’s place, sharing a coffee with Matt while Destiny and Deyanira tried to find a good Christmas movie for background noise.

The knock was sharp and unexpected, Tyrant leapt to his feet and barked once before racing to the door. Somehow, even with her being albino, Pitch saw the color fully drain from Deyanira’s face.

She stood, her legs shaking a little, and approached the door with purpose. When she opened it, there was no greeting before her mother simply walked inside.

“Honestly Deyanira, couldn’t you answer the door any faster?” Her voice was reprimanding, and Pitch watched as she walked in, barely looking at her other daughter or her husband.

“Where will we be sleeping?”

“My bed.” Deyanira answered in a monotone voice.

“Your bed? Where do you plan on sleeping then?” She asked, rounding on her eldest daughter, “Don’t tell me the couch. That’s no place for a woman to sleep Deyanira.”

Matt cleared his throat before she could continue her tirade, “Delia, dear, meet Pitch, Deyanira’s neighbor. He’ll be joining us for Christmas.”

Pitch smiled, and hoped it wasn’t forced as she turned around to face him, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes.

“Pitch?” She asked with obvious disdain, “Forgive me, but what kind of name is that?”

“It’s a nickname Mrs. Todd, my full name is often too difficult to pronounce for most people.” His voice must have sounded as snooty as he hoped because both Deyanira and Destiny cracked a smile, he kept a straight face however, as he continued, “My full name is Kozmotis Pitchiner, but Pitch is fine.”

He felt some sort of smug satisfaction when she called him Pitch later in the evening.

Their tradition, that Mrs. Todd is a stickler for, is that they open one gift on Christmas Eve.

So everyone is handed a gift, even Pitch who flounders a bit and sheepishly says “I didn’t grab your gift...” which Deyanira smiles knowingly at and he realizes he walked right into admitting he shopped for her.

“You can bring it in the morning.” She says with a wink and he sighs dramatically. It makes Destiny giggle and Matt smile, but Mrs. Todd narrows her eyes and scoffs softly.

Everyone tears into their gifts with abandon, even Tyrant rips the paper off his, revealing a plastic squeaky hamburger. Immediately he starts squeaking it and carries it around to everyone, showing it off and squeaking it in their faces.

Deyanira opens a gift from her father, a book on ancient embalming practices, and she thanks him profusely before cracking it open immediately.

Matt opens one from Destiny, revealing a nice and comfortable shirt, one that says “I love my daughter” in big letter with “(yes she bought me this t-shirt)” underneath it. He laughs and thanks her, proclaiming he’ll wear it under his sweater tomorrow.

Mrs. Todd also opens one from Destiny, it’s a travel mug and what it says makes her smile fondly, her facade of stern and overbearing cracking just a tiny bit.

“What’s it say, dear?” Matt asks, and Deyanira even looks up from her book.

“Dear Mom, thanks for putting up with a spoiled, ungrateful, messy, bratty child like my sibling. Love your favorite.”

Deyanira throws a pillow at her sister that has them all laughing, even Deyanira herself smiles and shakes her head.

Destiny opens a gift from their mother, she gasps softly as an extremely fuzzy sweater is revealed, it looks expensive, even to Pitch’s untrained eyes, and Destiny leaps off the floor, embracing her mother before putting the sweater on.

It’s big and bulky and Pitch personally thinks it’s hideous but he doesn’t know anything about fashion.

He feels eyes on him and swallows nervously before he opens his gift from Deyanira, it’s small and in a box, and he laughs before opening it.

“Hope it’s not a ring.” Deyanira snorts but she watches him close and he feels his throat close up a little bit when he sees the necklace, nestled softly in fabric padding. It looks like a camera lense, and he smiles taking it out of the box carefully.

Destiny gasps softly and makes an “ooo” sound when she sees it. Tyrant sniffs it, getting dog nose marks on it before losing interest and squeaking his toy again. Pitch puts it on, not making eye contact with Deyanira as Destiny cleans up the wrapping paper.

Matt plays with Tyrant, throwing crumpled and wadded up paper at the dog until he grumbles about it and starts tearing them up smaller. Distracted from his new toy for a moment too long. Destiny snatches it and squeaks it, running around the apartment as Tyrant chases her.

Pitch swallows past the lump in his throat and leans over before whispering a soft “Thank you.”

Deyanira just smiles and whispers just as softly, “You’re welcome.”

Only Mrs. Todd sees the exchange, unbeknownst to the two sitting by each other on the floor.

Pitch leaves shortly after, Deyanira telling him he can’t come back until tomorrow, and he better bring her gift.

He doesn’t stop touching the necklace all through his nightly routine.

He’s up at 7 am. Like every Christmas, but surprisingly he gets a knock on his door at 9.

He opens it in confusion, only to find a distraught Destiny at his door.

“What--”

“Dey won’t come out of her room.” The tone she takes makes him more alert suddenly, coffee mug in his hand held tighter, “She and mother got in an argument after you left last night,” She starts and he immediately sets his mug down, picking up his keys and Deyanira’s gift without thinking about it, “they went to bed angry and now that mom and dad are out of her room she’s locked herself in and I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to bother Jackil--”

But he’s already opening the door to Deyanira and Jackilyn’s apartment.

It smells divine, Matt apparently cooks when stressed because he’s started the preparations for dinner already. Mrs Todd sits on the couch, face blank as she stares at the television and Matt himself is knocking gently on Deyanira’s door.

Tyrant growls from the other side when Matt asks to come in.

Destiny follows Pitch close as he strides across the room to Deyanira’s bedroom door.

Pitch knocks firmly, “Let me in.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

There’s silence before she says, “Only you. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” They hear the lock click and he moves fast, sliding in and closing the door behind him, easily locking it once more before the others can even attempt to speak.

Tyrant is on the floor by her bed, little more than a black mass in the dim lighting of the room. She is laying on her side, facing away from the door.

His first order of business is walking across the room to the window, he opens the curtains and is nearly blinded by the brightness of the white snow.

Tyrant growls when he approaches the bed and Pitch just shushes him before sitting by Deyanira’s feet.

They sit in silence for a while before he clears his throat.

“So...Let’s start with, good morning and Merry Christmas.”

She scoffs and curls up tighter.

“Listen, I also hate the holidays but you can’t open your gift laying down.” He leans against the bedpost.

Deyanira is quiet and he wonders if she’s ignoring him but then she sighs and sits up, she readjusts and keeps her back to the head of the bed, she smiles when she sees his gaudy sweater.

“What the fuck is that.” She barely holds back a laugh.

“My hideous Christmas sweater.” He says casually, “It even lights up.” He presses the button and sure enough the lights on the tinsley green tree start flashing happily.

“I...Am speechless.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

They lapse into a silence again and he gently nudges her with his foot. “What happened?”

She sighs and closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the wall, and he sees her vulnerable again like on the elevator, “My mother...I...she wants me to model her fashion again, says I should because how of pretty I am. How I’m ‘wasting my beauty’ working dumb jobs and...”

She trails off and opens her eyes, a blush forming high on her face, “She saw yesterday, when you thanked me, and she thinks...I shouldn’t ‘think about a family’ when I ‘can’t even support myself financially.’”

“...Well it’s a good thing showing gratitude can’t get someone pregnant then or Jackilyn would be a mother by now.”

She laughs, it’s a bark of laughter that’s sudden and startling enough for Tyrant to jump onto the bed and sniff her curiously. They dissolve into laughter and when she’s done and they’ve composed themselves he hands her the gift he’d been holding onto.

“I’m sure you have a sweater already picked out for today,” He says casually as she opens the gift, “But it screamed your name when I saw it so...”

The black sweatshirt is immediately put on when she reads what it says, a grin on her face the entire time.

“Thank you.” She says softly and sincerely.

He smiles before whispering, “Careful, we don’t want you pregnant now do we?”

She laughs and then goes quiet, she moves closer, suddenly in his space and he’s sure she can hear his heart racing in his chest, but instead of saying anything she hugs him again, he pretends not to notice the tears leaking from her eyes as she sniffles against him.

He returns the embrace and they sit like that for a while until Tyrant breaks them up, nuzzling his face in between their arms and demanding hugs as well, slobber covered squeaky toy and all.

They break apart and laugh at the dogs antics and before either one knows what’s happening Deyanira leans forward and kisses him. His mind sort of stops, train of thought derailing in an explosive crash.

She is apparently unfazed, easily standing up and pulling him up with her.

He still hasn’t regained himself by the time she opens the door, Tyrant bolting into the living room, squeaking the toy all the way, and the two of them following after him.

Her eyes are red from crying but no one says anything, opting instead to simply hug her and things are uneasy but calm, Mrs. Todd eyes him closely and he wonders what she’s thinking before Matt asks for his help in the kitchen.

The day seems to flash past and before he knows it, it’s already 11 pm. He’s seated on the floor, back to the couch, with Deyanira sitting behind him on the sofa itself. Sprawled across his lap is Tyrant, squeaky hamburger nearby and assortment of other new toys strewn across the apartment.

Destiny is beside her sister, the two of them playfully arguing over which movie to pick, and Matt and Cordelia, because she had insisted at dinner that he call her that, sat together on the other sofa, occasionally whispering to one another.

He yawned and sighed, moving the dead weight dog off his lap, “Time for me to head to bed. Thank you for having me join you for today.��

They all bid him goodnight and he headed home.

A knock sounded on his apartment door when he was in the middle of brushing his teeth, so with toothbrush in mouth and pajama shirt slung over his shoulder, he didn’t even check to see who it was before opening the door.

Before him stood Cordelia. He felt exposed but she spoke before he could say anything.

“You make my daughter happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. You and her roommate are good for her.”

He blinked owlishly, but she continued, once again before he could speak.

“I don’t know if you two plan to spend the rest of your lives together or just have fun but I approve of whatever you two decide. I just want her happy and healthy and you seem to want the same.” She smiled and gently patted his cheek as he blinked again.

And then she turned and left to go back to Deyanira’s and he was left in the doorway with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and his shirt still slung over his shoulder.

When he closed the door he wondered what the hell just happened.

The next couple of days flew past, and before long Deyanira’s family was leaving. They all said their goodbyes and Matt pulled Pitch aside, and suddenly Pitch was apprehensive.

“Listen, I have no idea what your relationship with my Deyanira is, but she seems genuinely happy with you around so whatever it is, you’re doing great.”

Once again, as he rambled on, Pitch couldn’t get a word in edgewise and before he knew it they were gone.

And then it was just the two of them. And Tyrant.

Deyanira had apparently talked to the landlady of the building and she had said so long as the dog doesn’t bark too much she didn’t care if he stayed.

“Guess Jackilyn is getting a dog for Christmas.” Deyanira had laughed when she told Pitch about it.

And then they were sitting on the couch together again, this time with Tyrant at their feet, and their hands again intertwined easily.

“...Are we dating?” He asked suddenly and she turned to look at him curiously.

“Uhhh,” She said elequently, “I mean...Not technically, no...Why? Do you want to be?”

“I...don’t know.” He said turning to look at her curiously as well.

“Oh good, great, perfect, because neither do I.” She was sincere, he could tell, which made him laugh.

“We are a mess.” He whispered before leaning close and kissing her cheek.

“Absolutely.” She laughed, and they cuddled up together again, watching something more geared for Halloween than Christmas, but it didn't matter. They were happy.

#my writing #oc: deyanira todd #oc: destiny todd #oc: cordelia todd #oc: matthew todd #friend oc: jackilyn lantern #friend oc: nox #oc: tyrant #i rlly hope the linebreaks fuckin work #a week and 4k+ words later and its finally done #ty moirail for humoring me

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a-splash-of-stucky · 7 years ago

Text

A Messed Up Place | Eleven

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Truths are revealed.

Warnings: Lots of shouting — an extremely heated argument takes place. Lots of name-calling and swearing. Excessive use of the word ‘fuck’.

Notes: Written for @hellomissmabel’s birthday/2k celebration.

It is honestly a relief to finally be able to write this chapter. This was the first scene that popped into my head all those weeks ago, when I first planned AMUP. I have been dying to write it ever since. Anyway. Much angst ahead. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

AMUP Masterlist

Bucky takes a hefty swig out of his water bottle. The icy water is a cooling salve as it trickles down his throat. He takes a few more sips as he towels off his wet hair and glances around the empty, dimly lit gym.

It’s a quarter past two in the morning. Bucky had gone to bed at around 10, only to be woken up by his own screams a couple of hours later, his skin covered in a layer of cold sweat, sheets tangled around his legs and heart thundering against his ribs.

The nightmare had been about Steve, of course. Bucky doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the details.

Fully aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep with his brain feeling that wired, and unwilling to spend several hours tossing and turning in bed, whilst waiting for the sun to come up, Bucky had changed into a tank top and a pair of loose shorts to hit the gym. Even if he couldn’t tire himself out, at least he’d be able to occupy his time.

Bucky ends up spending nearly two hours in there. He does three rounds of his usual routine on the machines, before spending a ridiculously large amount of time pummelling the shit out of the reinforced punching bags. It’s a strangely cathartic activity.

After taking a shower, he changes into a clean sweatshirt and a pair of black joggers. Bucky dumps his gross-smelling gym gear and damp towel into the laundry basket they keep in the corner of the gym, before heading to the kitchen to make himself a midnight snack. He’s got a craving for macaroni and cheese.

The compound is in darkness, as would be expected at this hour of night. Bucky doesn’t bother asking FRIDAY to turn on the lights. He passes by the entrance to the common room-lounge area on his way to the kitchen and frowns when he hears the unmistakable sound of hitched sobs and stifled sniffles. He pauses, cocking his head to the side. Who could it be?

Keeping his footsteps as light as a feather, Bucky creeps inside. Though it’s dark, his enhanced eyesight picks out the silhouette of a figure huddled up on one of the couches, lying on their side with their back towards Bucky. He’s got a pretty good idea of who it could be.

“Y/N?” Bucky whispers.

The darkened figure startles, simultaneously uncurling and twisting their body, pushing themselves up onto their forearms. “B-bucky?” you ask, your voice croaky and thick with tears.

“FRIDAY, d’you mind getting the lights? Keep ‘em dim, please,” Bucky murmurs, as he crosses over to the couch and plops beside you, on your right. A few of the ceiling lights come on, casting pale yellow circles around the periphery of the room.

“Hey, hey—doll,” he croons, holding his arms out and letting you curl up against his side. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, as he tucks your head underneath his chin and loops his arms over your shoulders and around your waist. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, breath coming out as uneven sobs. Bucky strokes his hand up and down your back, whispers mindless babble into your hair. The front of his sweatshirt is quickly becoming damp as a result of your tears.

“Hey, now—what’s wrong, doll?” he murmurs, “Why’re you out here all alone, huh? Talk to me.”

“I-I-I,” you stammer, breaking off with a loud hiccup,as you fight to get your lungs to take in a deep enough inhale so that you can talk properly.

Bucky hums sympathetically, settling back against the couch and leaning away from you, to give you some space. You brush the backs of your hands over your cheeks, using the sleeves of your hoodie to wipe away the snot and tears. You glance at Bucky through the corner of your eye and let out a half-strangled sob. “Bu-ucky,” you hiccup, “I-I’ve gotta te-ell you something.”

“Mmm? What is it, doll?” he asks, only half-listening to you. Bucky’s more concerned about trying to get your lungs working the way they should. You sound worryingly like you’re about to have an asthma attack — and Bucky would know what those look like, given the number of times he’s had to help get Steve through one, back in the day — and Bucky’s not sure the extent to which asthma attacks and unborn babies go together.

“I-um. I-I still lo-ove—,” you bite your tongue, cutting yourself off and turning to look away from Bucky.

“Steve?” he offers, “You still love ‘im? S’okay, doll, that’s—,”

“That’s not what I was gonna say,” you interrupt, voice coming out surprisingly sharp, despite your tears. You wipe your nose one more time before turning to look Bucky dead in the eye, paralysing him with the intensity of your gaze.

“I was going to say you, Bucky.”

If this is a dream, Bucky’s not sure whether it’s one he wants to wake up from. He swallows nervously, before forcing his jaw to move, to shape the words. “M-me? I-I—but, Steve?” he stutters helplessly, brain unable to process what it is you’ve just admitted to.

“You, Bucky,” you repeat, turning your body so that you can look at Bucky directly, without having to crane your neck around. “I’ve always had feelings for you, okay? And I know—,”

“Wait, what?” Bucky squeaks, head spinning in confusion.

“Will you listen to me? Let me finish?” you ask impatiently. Bucky snaps his jaw shut and nods fervently, gesturing for you to continue with one hand.

“I—yeah. I’ve always had feelings for you, and you’ve—you always ignored me when I tried to show you. So—it didn’t look like things were even gonna work between us, no matter how hard I tried, which is why I started dating Steve—I—to…but now Steve’s dead, and a twisted, horrible part of me can’t help but feel g-glad, because I don’t think I would’ve been fully happy in that marriage and—but—I—shit this is so fucking messed up, and—but I feel so guilty for leading him on and I fucking hate this shit!” you hiss, your voice rising to shriller tones with each word that tumbles out of your mouth.

“I hate it, I fucking hate it! You made me do this!”

What?

Bucky’s mind has gone from confused, to stunned, to completely dumbstruck, all in the space of about ten seconds. He’s speechless. Completely, utterly at a loss for words. There’re so many things that you’ve just said that he needs to question, to examine, to pick apart and analyse — in fact, there’s almost too many. He’s not sure where to even begin. Although you seem delirious, and even though you’re probably sleep-deprived, there’s no mistaking the solemnity in your tone. You mean every word you’ve just said.

There is one statement that stands out, though. One that is screaming for more answers, for a further explanation.

“Y/N,” Bucky says softly, fighting to keep his anger in check and hoping that it doesn’t come through in his voice. “What-I—Steve? Why Steve? Did you—what? I don’t understand — were you actually in love with him?” he asks, “Did you—did you use my best friend against me? Did Steve ever mean anything to you?”

Bucky needs to know. No matter how much he may love you, no matter how much he may want to love you, there is one unwavering fact when it comes to Bucky and Steve: he’s with Steve ’til the end of the line. And if someone messes with Steve, by default, you can be goddamn sure that Bucky’s getting involved too. If there is one person he would die defending, it’s Steve Rogers.

You’re silent for a minute, chewing over your thoughts. Bucky’s words have apparently struck a chord. You stare off into the distance, fiddling with your fingers and biting on your bottom lip. Perhaps your silence should be alarming, Bucky thinks — if you truly loved Steve, wouldn’t your answer be an immediate, resounding ‘yes’?

“Not at first,” you admit softly, keeping your eyes trained on Bucky’s knees. It means that you don’t notice the barely-restrained fury in Bucky’s expression. “I mean…okay, so what happened was he asked me out on a date, back when you and I were still…yeah. He asked me out.”

You pause, running your fingers through your hair. “I will admit, at first, I wanted to say no, because like I said, I had — have — feelings for you. And I was still hopeful about us. But…but he asked so nicely, and he looked so hopeful that I—I didn’t have the heart to say no,” you murmur, your expression turning wistfully sad as you recall the memory. “I loved you, but…but—god this is gonna sound so bad,” you chuckle mirthlessly, “Some fucked up part of my brain rationalised that maybe…you seeing me with Steve would kick you into gear, or something—,”

“Y/N, I swear to god—,”

“I’m not done,” you say sharply, fingers clenching into fists in your lap. For a second, your entire body is tensed up, before you take a deep, calming breath, relaxing once more and continuing on with your story. “My point is: fucking sue me if you want to, but initially, I got with Steve with the intent of making you jealous,” you admit.

“Fucking hate me all you want, okay? Hate me because Steve’s not here to do so. I-I deserve it, yeah? I get it, I deserve your hate, your anger — call me a bitch, a coward, an asshole, a liar, whatever you want. I’m all of the above. I get it. Hate me, Bucky,” you growl brokenly, vicious venom lacing your every word.

Somehow, despite what you’ve just admitted to, Bucky can’t quite do that. He’s—a part of him hates you. Loathes you, in fact. But another part of him — the irrational, stupid, lovesick puppy inside him — still believes in you. He’s—torn. Conflicted. He’s fighting a warped internal battle between what is right and what is less right, because, as he’s come to realise, ‘wrong’ is simply a matter of perspective.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice calmer, softer now. It sounds almost eerily detached, even. “I started dating Steve despite being fully aware of the fact that he had feelings for me on a level which I did not reciprocate,” you say. There’s an undertone of bitterness and self-hatred to your words. “I knew that I wasn’t being fair. I was being mean. But—the thing is, Bucky, please, please, please, believe me when I say this…I never, ever meant for things to get this far.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky scoffs.

Bucky feels…a lot. He’s enraged, mostly. His entire perspective of you has changed. You’re not the person he once thought you were — that is the glaringly obvious fact that’s staring him in the face, right now. You’re not the person he made you out to be, the woman he fell in love with.

“You could’ve put a stop to it, anytime you wanted to, right?” Bucky points out, not bothering to conceal his pain and anger. In fact, it’s a relief to finally allow those emotions to bleed into his words, a relief to finally voice the thoughts that have been clamouring for attention inside his head.

“You weren’t under any obligations to stay with Steve. And—and besides, if you were done waiting around for me, instead of trying to make me—make me jealous,” he spits out, relishing the way you recoil at the word, “Why didn’t you ask me yourself, huh? Why couldn’t you come to me and ask me out?”

“I—I fucking didn’t want to pressure you, okay?” you snap, your gaze meeting his once more. There’s a heat in your eyes that makes Bucky want to smirk — he’s fighting fire with fire, and as irrational as that may be, it feels good.

“You—I didn’t know for certain if you felt the same about me,” you explain. “And I—look, I knew that it was overwhelming for you to have to adjust to all this,” you say, flapping your arms and gesturing wildly around you, “So I didn’t want to…to add my own pressures on you. If you fell in love with me—great, but—but I didn’t want you to feel like you had to date me, or love, or take pity on me, just ‘cause I had feelings for you.”

“And, I guess,” you sigh, your shoulders deflating and losing their tension as you drag a hand down your face, “I thought that with time, I could — maybe, fall in love with Steve and get over you. The heart can only hold so much love in it, right?”

You laugh dejectedly, shaking your head as if you can’t believe how stupid you were. “Fucking wrong,” you snort, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was — am, still am — in love with Steve, but in love with you, as well! I ended up falling for Steve, because who in their right mind wouldn’t do the same?”

“You’re right,” you say, nodding your head slowly, “I was under no obligation to be with him, but I couldn’t end out relationship because I didn’t want to.” You lift your eyes to meet his gaze. Bucky’s breath catches when he catches the glimmer of unshed tears in yours.

“I love him, I love you, and I couldn't decide between you two. I’m a fucking selfish bitch, okay?” you huff, tightening your arms around yourself defensively. “There. I said it. I’m a fucking selfish bitch, who didn’t want to leave Steve even though,” you pause, gulping audibly. “Even though I knew I was hurting you.”

Bucky’s jaw tenses in anger. “You knew you were hurting me and yet you kept on doing it anyway.”

“I—,”

“Fuck you,” Bucky hisses, “Fuck you, fuck your manipulative games, fuck you for fucking with me, with my head, my feelings, do I—do I mean nothing to you?”

“You do!” you protest, “Bucky, I swear, please—,”

“Could’ve fucking fooled me,” Bucky continues, bulldozing onwards, as if you’d never interrupted him. “What with the way you treated me, and all.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes,” you growl, your own anger finally making your composure snap. “You’re not perfect either, jerk. Look, both of us are in the wrong—,”

“But we wouldn’t even fucking be in this position had you put an end to things with Steve when you could!” Bucky shouts, not caring if he wakes up half the compound in the process.

You swallow, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that are on the verge of spilling from your eyes. “I—I never meant to get engaged, or anything,” you whisper, “I—it was only ever meant to be a couple of dates with him, and then I was gonna put an end to it and tell him it wasn’t gonna work out between us. I swear on my life, Bucky, that’s what I fully intended to do. But—,” you laugh deliriously, “You can’t help but fall in love with Stevie. I didn’t do anything to deserve him, but he—he loved me. A lot. And I—I found myself responding to that.”

“So did I love him initially?” you ask, straightening up and raking your fingers through your disheveled hair, “No. Probably not. Not the way I love you, at least. But do I love him now?” you pause, tipping your head back to stare at the ceiling as you consider your next words.

“Goddamn it, I’m not sure. I love him, in some capacity. I care for him, and I’m—I’m brokenhearted because he’s dead, but—but it’s still not the way I love you. And…and I feel so guilty about the fact that—,”

“Don’t sob to me,” Bucky growls, cutting you off when your voice begins to waver and your eyes start to become teary, once more. Your mouth pulls into a tight line. Before you can say anything else, Bucky jumps in, wanting to share his own thoughts.

“I thought the world of you,” Bucky says softly. His tone is low, surprisingly calm, despite the roiling anger inside him. “I thought you were an angel on earth, a goddess among men. Turns out, I was wrong. Stevie should’ve had better than someone like you.”

You snap your head towards him, your eyes ablaze with rage. “Well fuck you, Barnes!” you shout, “Here is my fucking apology for not being good enough, for not meeting your—your unreasonably high expectations! And—and what the fuck? There are more dimensions of love than just the romantic, okay? Can’t you see that?”

“I—I still care for him, Bucky,” you explain, your voice more than a little bit hysterical, “And—I dunno, I have a feeling that he knew something was up. Steve—he knew…something. About—about…you and me.”

Bucky thinks back to Steve’s video and can’t help but agree with you on that one.

“But—he died with a lie,” you say, your voice cracking at the last word. You clear your throat. “I was gonna come clean and tell him, I really was, but I—but now he’s gone. He’s fucking dead, and he never got to know the truth.”

“No thanks to you.”

You snort indignantly. “Oh that’s rich, coming from you!” you snap, “Mr ‘I keep a million secrets up my sleeve’. You could’ve come clean to me, to Steve at any point and yet you didn’t. Do you even love me?”

Bucky inhales sharply. He closes his eyes and takes a moment to calm his thoughts.

It’s now or never.

“I do,” he says quietly. “Y/N—doll, I do, Ido love you. Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve loved you for—for as long as I’ve known you.”

Now that he’s started, there’s no stopping. He’s taken that first step — they say the first step is the hardest for a reason — and it’s all downhill from here. It’s like the dam inside Bucky’s mind has finally been burst. The words that he’s been holding back all this while can finally come rushing through. They spill out of his mouth in a mad, uncontrollable torrent.

“I—I need you the way I need oxygen, baby,” Bucky continues, “I love you, I swear, I love you. My heart belonged to you before it ever belonged to me, before I even knew what it was to love!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip and turning to look off into the distance, out of the window. Bucky drinks in your profile, which lately, has been more gaunt and waif-like than normal. “Don’t say that,” you whisper tightly, “Don’t say words like that if you don’t mean them. Don’t just say them just for the sake of saying them—,”

“I do mean them!” Bucky says urgently, his hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder. You turn to face him, your gaze locking onto his. God, the trepidation and fear in your eyes is enough to make his heart break all over again. “Y/N, I—we’ve done some stupid things, but I mean it. I love you.”

You shake your head sadly, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I thought—I thought hearing those words from you would be the best thing to ever happen to me, but—it’s not,” you say, sighing dejectedly. “It’s not what I needed to hear, right now. Now—now, when things are like this, when I have to have Steve’s kid—,”

“It might not even be his,” Bucky blurts, unthinkingly. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he catches onto what he’s just said. What he’s just implicitly admitted to.

Oh so slowly, you turn to face him, your eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What?”

It’s just one word, but one word is more than enough to instil sheer terror in Bucky’s bones. “I—Nothing. Nothing, forget I said that,” he stammers.

“What d’you mean, it might not be his?” you ask, your voice barely masking the threat lying beneath.

“Noth—,”

“Fucking tell me!” you screech, lunging forward and grabbing fistfuls of his sweatshirt. Your expression is positively feral. “How in all of fucking hell could this baby not be Steve’s and why on this goddamn planet would you fucking know?”

Bucky licks his lips nervously. “It’s not Steve’s,” he repeats slowly, “Or…at least I don’t think it is.”

“Why?” you breathe, voice wavering with wrath, “What makes you say that?”

“You’re—um,” Bucky swallows again, tries to remember how to make his mouth work.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you growl menacingly, yanking him closer towards you, “This is my body we’re talking about. If you know something that I don’t, spill it.”

“In KL,” Bucky says quickly, “In—in KL, on that mission, on—on that night, that last night, uh—you were drunk. And—um. And so I brought you back to the hotel and you…you wanted to have sex.”

“What?” you breathe, letting go of his sweatshirt in shock. Your eyes are as wide as saucers. “Why didn’t you—,”

“I tried to stop you—I, okay fine, I admit, you have no reason to believe me on this, but I swear on Steve’s head that I’m not lying to you!” Bucky says vehemently, “I tried to stop you. I told you no, I was gonna leave, but you—but you kept pushing, and I—I couldn’t,” Bucky pauses, blinking away the tears that have suddenly sprung to his eyes. “I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

“So we fucked,” you say flatly.

“We fucked,” Bucky confirms. “I—um. I didn’t think it was gonna happen, so I didn’t pack any condoms with me.”

“We had unprotected sex,” you murmur, burying your face in your palms.

“I—I did pull out,” Bucky says. “I did! I promise you, I did!” he repeats, throwing his hands up in surrender when you arch an eyebrow in disbelief. “I—I uhh, I really did pull out, but it—it was uh, kinda at the last second, so stuff could’a…y’know…it might’ve been too late.”

Bucky runs his tongue over his chapped lips. His throat feels unnaturally dry, perhaps due to the nerves. He watches as you slump against the back of the couch. You’re gaze is blank and you’re making no sounds. It’s beginning to unnerve him.

“Y/N?” he asks tentatively.

“Fuck you, Barnes,” you say, your voice eerily cool. “Fuck you for doing this to me.”

Maybe it’s your choice of words, maybe it’s the tone with which you’ve spoken, maybe it’s the cumulative effect of the events of the last week, but for whatever reason — that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

“Oh, now I’m the only bad guy in this equation?” Bucky snorts, “Need I remind you which one of us is the manipulative bitch?”

Your jaw drops open in shock. “I—fuck you, Barnes, you’re one to talk about bad guys — you fucking slept with me when I was drunk! Taking advantage of me!”

“I said no!” Bucky roars, “I pushed you away, I told you I didn’t want it! You’re as much of a rapist as I am, in this situation!”

You blink rapidly, grinding your teeth together as your hands clench into fists. Bucky holds his breath, waiting for you to lash out, to land your next blow, and is surprised when it does not come.

“You’re—okay, you’re right,” you sigh, rubbing the heel of your palm into your eye tiredly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forced myself on you, I—I can’t imagine how shitty I made you feel. I’m sorry I put us in that situation, I’m sorry I acted like an idiot, I’m sorry for dragging you into this drama, I’m sorry, okay?”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but it’s there. I’m sorry,” you murmur. You sigh heavily, removing your hand from your face as you look towards Bucky once more.

“But that doesn’t change how I feel,” you continue, your tone sharpening as your rage resurfaces. “The issue’s still there: I’m pregnant, and this might be your baby. Were you ever gonna tell me about this, by the way? Huh? Were you ever gonna tell how we fucked whilst I was drunk? How you broke all the rules we ever put in place?”

“I—,” Bucky sputters, at a loss for words. “No, you know what? Yeah. Yeah, I did break all out rules. And I’m sorry. I truly am sorry for that. But I came clean in the end, but—but what the fuck? You can’t be telling me that what you did was any less worse.”

“That’s not what I’m saying—,”

“Then what the fuck are you trying to say, Y/N?” Bucky asks sharply, “Because my patience is running thin and I am fucking done dealing with your bullshit.”

You clench your jaw. “Right. Okay, you know what I wanna say? You wanna know the real reason, the reason deep-down why I got with Steve? Wanna see how blackened and fucked up the innermost parts of my soul are?” you snarl. “I got with Steve because I wanted you to fight for me, Bucky.”

“Y/N—,”

“I wanted you to goddamn fight for me,” you hiss, “Are—are you blind? Are you an idiot, or something? Could you not see what I—if you truly loved me like you say you do, you would’ve fought for me, asked me to stay.”

“What kind of jacked up logic is that?” Bucky sputters, stunned. “Am I blind? Fuck you, Y/N, you’re the one that’s blind! Could you— could you not see? Could you not see how obvious I was? I adored you, clung to you like a needy puppy, but you had no clue, and I don’t know how that;s even possible! I was so fucking obvious! Smiling every time I saw you, laughing every time you talked to me — you didn’t see that?”

“You didn’t see how much pain you put me through?” Bucky continues, his voice harsh. “I’m pretty sure I was — am, probably — fucking depressed. When you told me you were dating Steve, when you told me that you’d gotten engaged, when you—,” he breaks off, laughing hysterically, “When you asked me to fucking pick out your lingerie, like— I was in pain, okay? The entire time! You hurt me!”

“Every time I saw you two together, happy together — whether or not you were pretending — it hurt like someone was stabbing a million knives into my gut, okay?”

“I was wrong about you,” Bucky spits, “I thought you were an angel, I though you were better than this.”

“No one told you to idolise me, Bucky!” you scream, lashing out, fighting back just as hard. “I’m fucked up! I am fucked up in the head, okay? I didn’t ask to fall in love with both of you, I didn’t ask you to fall in love with me, I didn’t ask for any of this to happen!”

Bucky leans back against the armrest, runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends slightly. “You know what? Fuck it, I’m done,” hey growls. He pushes himself onto his feet and moves to stalk past you.

Your fingers catch hold of the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling him to a stop. “Barnes, sit your ass down—,”

“No,” he hisses, shaking your hand off of him. “You don’t fucking get to tell me what to do, Y/N. I’m heading up. Goodnight.”

Maybe it’s the finality in his tone that sends you into a panic, but whatever the case, you leap up at that moment, your hand gripping onto Bucky’s shoulder. He grits his teeth and resists the urge to brush you away.

“Bucky—,” you whisper, “Please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please sit down, please—let’s talk.”

“Oh, we’ve talked plenty, Y/N,” Bucky snarls, whirling around to face you. The expression on your face — a cross between on heartbroken, sorrowful and apologetic — gives him pause. The heated words he was going to hurl at you die in his throat.

Bucky sighs heavily as rakes his fingers through his messy hair. “Okay, look. Let’s—I think we need some time to cool off. To…to process everything that’s just been said.”

“Bucky—,”

“We can talk. I’m not—now. Sometime later, not now,” he mumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his joggers. “Now…this is too much. I—need some time to process all…this,” he says, gesturing wildly between the two of you.

“Okay,” you whisper, dropping your hand to the side, letting go of him. “I—I do love you, Bucky. Still. Even—even if you…even after—I do. I love you.”

Bucky turns away, not wanting to let you see his expression. Something in his heart aches.

Those are the words he’s wanted to hear from you, the words he’s always wanted to hear falling from your mouth for as long as he can remember. Hearing you say them should be a salve on the wounds of his broken heart, but…they’re not. They’re anything but.

They don’t have the same meaning, the same symbolism, the same weight that they used to. The no longer hold the same promise.

He loves you, still. Fucking hell Barnes, will you get a grip on yourself? he chastises.

Bucky loves you, even though he probably shouldn’t, at this point. Maybe it’s a different kind of love, maybe it’s not to the same extent — he doesn’t know anymore. He hates you and loves you in equal measure and if that doesn’t summarise how screwed up his life has become, then nothing else will.

The thing is, there’s more to the picture now, he has to remember that. How can he abandon you? He can’t just love you, not only because of his promise to Steve — as misguided as that may have been — but also because you’re potentially carrying his child in your womb.

Bucky feels like an absolute shit hole.

All he’s ever wanted in this life is for you to want him, to love him. And, as it turns out — you do. You do love him, but you probably hate him, as well. It’s fucked up, is what it is.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Bucky says tightly, as strides out of the common room. “I’ll—see you.”

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