#I’m seeing too many people being like WELL NOW IM NOT VOTING AT ALL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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the bodyguard

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

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

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

word count: 20,500

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

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“I’ll be okay.”

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

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

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

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

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

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

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

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

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

05:30.

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

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-Wha—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

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

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

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

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

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

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

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

“Toshinori—”

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

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

He had barely passed the admittance test.

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

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

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

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

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were tiny.

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

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

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

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

“Six months tops.”

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

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

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

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

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

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

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

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

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

Fuck, that one hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

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

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

“You got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

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

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

Or so the contract said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, so much for a good case.

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

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

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

You always managed to sneak away from him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

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

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

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

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

He wanted to be just a fan.

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

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

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

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

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

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

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

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

And then there’s only silence.

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

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

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

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

He knew that.

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

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

You were a good person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...how interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

“Very much.”

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

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

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

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

So much for change.

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

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

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

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

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

It had been a hard morning.

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

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

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

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

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

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

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

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

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

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

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

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

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

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

Oh, right.

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

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

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

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

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

“Compromises aren’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-”

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

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

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

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

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

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

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

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

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

The van turns on.

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

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

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

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

T082-23

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

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

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

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

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

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

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

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

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

For now, he was waiting for you.

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

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

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

“Should we go?”

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

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

The contract was then discussed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?”

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

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

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

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

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

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

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

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

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown.

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers.

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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cozy-possum · 3 years ago

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Love Death and Robots ‘Season’ 3

Overall thoughts (spoiler free) and per episode (spoilers) below the cut

Overall:

Much preferred the varied visuals to the second season, it felt like there was so much obvious cgi/3d stuff in the second one many blended together. Each of the stories were interesting and captivating in their own way. I enjoyed bringing back the robots from series one. The soundtrack for all the shorts was really good

Trigger warnings:

Three robots (dead bodies, dried blood, doomsday prepers)

Bad Travelling: Blood, gore, dead bodies, mutilation, murder, vomit

The Very pulse of the machine: Gore, dead body, blood, hallucinations, unreality, space

Night of the mini dead: sex, blood, zombies, death, war, nuclear threat

Kill team Kill: nuditiy, war, guns/weapons, blood, dead bodies

Swarm: Aliens, bugs (bug like aliens mostly beetle-esque) trypophobia, sex, body horror, blood, gore, vomit

Mason’s rats: Rats, guns, war, blood, dead bodies (rats) flashing lights (lasers) alcohol

In Vaulted Halls Entombed: war, guns/weapons, fighting, spider/bugs, gore, blood, body horror

Jibaro: Unreality, blood, violence, drowning, screaming/distorted sounds, reching/gagging, death, assault, gore

Three Robots: Exit Strategies: I enjoyed the tour around the various survival attempts of humans in the post-apocalyptic world. The humor and little digs at humans was cute and clever, a few of them could have been left off. Love how that one robot kept switching his hat. I also enjoyed how Elena clearly wasn’t as aware enough to know they were other robots. ‘Democratic cannibalism’ that’s an interesting concept, did they have reports on who was doing the best/worst? would it have gone farther than the secretary of Agriculture? Why is this US based, would love to see them going to other parts of the world at some point

Bad Travelling: Very visibly dark, made it hard to focus on the short. Enjoyed that the ‘monster’ was a big crab, it makes sense for it being in the ocean, can all of them speak like the one on the ship? I really liked the animation for this one. While very obvious cgi/3d it felt similar to the Secret wars from season one. Okay the little baby thanopods were cute. Did enjoy the twists of everyone voting x and Torrin blowing up the ship at the end really interesting.

The Very pulse of the machine: Not a huge fan of the people animation it looked like someone was trying to go for the ‘comic book’ angle but the lines felt too thin combined with the 3d made it look bulbous, the backgrounds and the elctromagnetic/hallucinations are beautiful. So they’re on Io one of Jupiter’s moons, it looks pretty cool. I do enjoy Martha casually arguing with Burton to start the ‘hallucination’ part. Relly enjoyed the ending and the surreal visuals they added.

Night of the mini dead: okay hands down fav episode, I have a weakness for minatures IS THIS A MODEL RAILWAY/TOWN IM GONNA DIE HAPPY NOW, the hockey scene made me cry laughing, in fact this whole short did, the little high pitched helium voices got me THE POPEMOBILE!!!!! the garbage truck zombie killer, ahh toxic waste zombies niceeeee; not the penguins 😭

Kill team Kill: Like the animation style, enjoyed the idea of the terminator grizzly bear, maars-bot is great it’s like stabby on steroids, it was an okay action short, the animation style is what saved it for me, not very interesting otherwise

Swarm: Ooo centuar aliens they look soft, like a peach. The animation is that hyper realiztic 3d/cgi which I’m not a fan of for humans. I do love a good swarm/hivemind concept, and i’m digging the various alien species seen so far, also hell yeah space fungi!! Not surprised that the swarm took over a human, similar to the thanopod from Bad Travelling, fun horror concept; “intelligence is not a winning survival trait” thats a raw ass quote my dude

Mason’s rats: If Chicken Run and the Rats of NIMH were squashed together but Scottish and with a slightly ‘happier’ ending than i was expecting (well i saw the twist but nice to know it happened) really enjoyable and cute premise and ending

In Vaulted Halls Entombed: more hyper realistic cgi/3d, still not my fav for humans; feeling very generic war/action scene with like ‘spooky elder god’ to mix things up; digging the little spider things, the little faces they had was a cool touch, didn’t really care for the whole “elder god brings vision of end of world thing”

Jibaro: Visually chaotic, there’s a lot going on, cgi and sharp movements and shaky cam all gave me a headache, the cgi of the people got a little too distorted (although I suppose thats the point) the fashion was cool though, although I felt it could have been far shorter, i liked the twist of him gaining his hearing back as a punishment of sorts for what he’d done

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Should’ve Known Better

Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader

Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst

A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol

ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Do you love me?"

It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.

He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.

So why was he asking it now?

And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?

"Come on, it'll be fun."

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."

It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.

Maybe not yet.

You'd rather not think about it for now.

"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."

Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.

"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Ugh, fine."

But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.

But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.

He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.

You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.

You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.

Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.

That was the mistake on your part.

You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.

"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.

He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.

"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.

Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.

Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.

His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.

Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.

"We fought again."

You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.

It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.

"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.

Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."

You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.

He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.

You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.

"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.

Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.

"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.

Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.

"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.

"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.

Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."

That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.

Come over

I miss u xoxo

Miss eating u out

Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again

You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.

im free nxt Sat

Yay

Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot

dude, we were at the mall together just last wk

U really dont get attached do u?

Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.

what u mean?

Nothing

Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.

No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.

Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.

Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.

"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."

Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.

"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.

"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.

"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.

You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.

You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.

Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.

Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.

Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.

"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.

"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.

"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."

You merely hummed in response.

"Think I might ask her out."

The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.

You should've said no. You should've known better.

The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.

But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.

"These are amazing."

You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.

Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.

"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.

One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.

Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.

Or so you thought.

"Do you love me?"

It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.

You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.

That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.

"Yes."

It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.

They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?

"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.

Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.

It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.

Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.

You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.

"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."

It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.

When r u coming home?

In a little while, Daph

That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.

You're fine.

You should've said no. You should've known better.

Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.

The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.

It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.

You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.

Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.

But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.

u back together?

No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.

if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank

Wait what? Hey, are u mad?

r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?

Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.

Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.

You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.

He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.

For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.

All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.

The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."

“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”

Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?

He didn't.

He said he would but instead, they got back together.

It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.

Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.

You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.

You live, you love and you learn.

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #oneshots: eb frank #endings beginnings #frank endings beginnings #sebastian stan

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monsterenergysimp · 4 years ago

Text

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats super cool actually

i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

[link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Kind of Education: V Is For Vanilla (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, light dom/sub dynamics, light dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, light breast/nipple play, nipple sucking, light biting, i think thats it, honestly this chapter is (as the title says) pretty vanilla. But things will get more intense in later chapters.

Words: 7,128

A/N: ahhhhhh it’s finally here. This professor Rog idea has been kicking around my head for months now and finally I’m actually doing something about it lmao

This series is going to be LONG (like in my plan it’s 15 chapters) because I have So Many kinks I want to squeeze into it. Some were chosen by me and some were chosen by everyone who voted in the poll I put up a few weeks ago and i am seriously so excited about what’s coming.

Smut scenes in this and all future chapters will be marked with stars so that if there is a kink you’d like to avoid you can skip over it and still enjoy the rest of the series.

Also, I know the chapter title doesn’t super make sense since he’s a university bio sciences professor which doesn’t have a lot to do with the alphabet but 🤷‍♀️ that was the working chapter title and it kind of stuck. Plus, ya’ll know I love chapter titles that have a theme lmao. Anyway, no more stalling. Enjoy the filth and start preparing yourselves for it to get so much filthier.

(the ultimate hot professor rog moment tbh)

@atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

His office door was open when you got there which didn’t give you much time to hesitate or rethink your decision to ask your Professor for help. He would have seen you approaching or stalling in the doorway and invited you in anyway to query you about your reasons for being there. So, instead, you raised your fist and rapped a pattern on the door frame with your knuckles. “Professor Taylor? Can I have a word?” “Miss Y/L/N,” he seemed surprised to see you, his eyes widening behind his spectacles, “come in. What can I help you with?” You closed the door behind you and took a seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to remember how you’d planned to broach the subject. Professor Taylor – Roger, as you’d been told you could call him – waited patiently. “It’s tricky, Professor. Umm, see, well um,” “Is this something to do with the coursework? If you’re worried about the last assignment, you don’t need to be. It was really good, what you handed in.” “Really?” “Mmhmm. I was going to give you all feedback next week but if it’ll help put your mind at ease I can show you the comments I have for you early,” You were half a second away from asking to see them when you remembered that wasn’t what you’d come to ask about, “A-actually that’s okay Professor.” “Oh? So was it something else you wanted? I know that this Masters course is more work than previous classes you’ve had with me but you seem to be keeping on top of it all. I’m very impressed by what you’ve accomplished so far.” “Thank you Professor, but, um, that’s not really what I’m here about,” “No?” He leaned forward resting his chin on his hands, “You know, there’s no need to be nervous about talking to me, I’m not going to fail you,” he chuckled as he sat up straight again, clearly trying to lighten the mood though his expression became more serious as he said, “if you’re having trouble with something, or someone, please tell me and I will do what I can to help, whether it’s pointing you in the direction of someone more able to support you or talking to people on your behalf.” You nodded, feeling marginally calmer though still nervous, “I was actually hoping for some private tutoring,” “Oh? Well if you’d like to put your name down as a tutor I have a form here somewhere, if you fill it out I can pass it on and have your name added to the database,” Roger rifled through a stack of papers on his desk, only stopping when you spoke again. “No, not, uh, not tutoring work. I more meant tutoring from you. In an area that this Uni doesn’t provide classes in,” “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to explain because I’m not quite sure what you’re after,” You took a breath and resisted the urge to speak to the floor, “My boyfriend dumped me last week.” “I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see how-” “He dumped me because apparently I’m not kinky enough. I don’t know, he always wanted me to be super obedient in the bedroom but I never really understood it.” Roger shifted in his seat, “Miss Y/L/N I don’t think this is app-” “I want someone to explain it all to me, teach me how to be what he wants so I can get him back. If I can show him that I can learn, that I can submit in the way he expects, then we won’t have to break up. I love him and I’d do anything to get him back and I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re the best person to teach me.” “I’m not sure I understand why you would come to me with this. I am very sorry to hear you’re dealing with that but it’s not really appropriate for me to be discussing such matters with my student.” “Just…” you held your hand up to try and stop him from standing and opening the door for you, “You must realise that you have a, um, a reputation.” Roger was taken aback by that, throwing you a confused expression as he settled back into his seat. “Surely you’ve heard the rumours about you. About what you like to get up to with women.” “I can assure you I haven’t,” “Seriously? Everyone talks about it. I mean part of it is probably just because you’ve got that whole DILF thing working for you so like half the students here have crushes on you. But then you throw in the gossip about how you like to tie women up and all the rest of it,” Roger closed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite keep up with everything you’d just said, “How- I mean, those rumours have no bearing on- on anything and they aren’t even- what I mean to say is-” “Professor, it’s okay. It’s just gossip, nothing serious in it. But if you do like that sort of thing, I could really use your help. I won’t tell anyone, all I want is my boyfriend back,” Roger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “This is insane, what you’re asking is insane.” “No it’s not,” “Okay, lets, Miss Y/L/N, just for a moment, let’s imagine that, hypothetically, I say yes to this. What then?” “Well, I’d expect we’d meet up once or twice a week, you’d teach me the basics of kink, anything you thought I should know. Then in four months’ time I can talk to Dylan and show him what I’ve learnt and he’ll take me back.” “Why four months?” “Oh, we’re pretty much guaranteed to see each other then. Two of our mutual friends are getting married and we’ll both be at the wedding. So will you do it?” “Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know that this is a good idea,” “Why not?” “Well our ages for one thing,” “So what? You’re mature and experienced and that’s what I need. Plus, surely having someone half your age throw herself at you is a bonus.” He smiled slightly, “All the same, it’s wrong. I’m your teacher.” “Exactly, who better to teach me?” “The ethics of this- and the rules of this university. If anyone found out I’d lose my job, you’d lose your place at this school so you wouldn’t get to complete your degree. Not to mention I’m sure you have family and friends who would chop my bollocks off before they ran me out of town.” “It’s not like I’m underage, I’m doing a bloody Masters. And no one would find out. We can meet in secret.” “It’s still so risky, Ms Y/L/N,” “Look, Professor, I wouldn’t tell anyone, you won’t tell anyone. As long as we’re careful about when and where we meet no one will find out. Please, Professor. I need this,” you thought you could see his resolve cracking but decided to give him a final push, “But if you really don’t want to then I’ll find someone else. I’m sure I can meet someone online. Fetlife? That’s a website for this kind of thing, right?” “Fine, I’ll do it.” He said suddenly, “But we do it my way. And certainly not on campus.” “Okay,” “Are you free tonight?” “You wanna get right into it?” “I want to discuss this further, off campus, to set some ground rules, and I think we’ll both be more comfortable discussing it over dinner.” “Dinner? Like a date?” “A business deal. Miss Y/L/N, if you can’t take this seriously,” “I can, I promise. Dinner where?” “Well, public places are out of the question. So you can come over to my house. Be there by Seven and make sure no one knows. Here’s the address,” “Thank you Professor,” Roger grunted as he scrawled his address on a scrap of paper, holding it out to you, “Go, out of my office before I come to my senses,” You nodded and scurried off, taking heart from the bemused tone behind his snippy words. In a matter of a few short months you’d be able to put this breakup behind you and show Dylan just how much he meant to you.

A few minutes before seven o’clock you rang Roger’s door bell, looking around at the long driveway and the tidy garden beds at the front of the house as you waited. He opened the door quickly and hurried you inside glancing around the front yard as if someone were spying on him. “I brought wine,” you said, holding the bottle out, “You’ve got a nice place,” “You sound surprised,” he said as he took your jacket from you and hung it on a coat rack to the side of the entrance before taking the wine with a gracious nod and examining the label, “Y’know being a university professor doesn’t actually pay too badly.” “Yeah but this place is massive,” He chucked, “I inherited a little from my Nan and Pop and then there was the album. That was enough to buy this place.” “Album?” “Oh, I was in a band in my youth, one mildly successful album and a couple of writing credits on the singles set me up nicely. Not nicely enough to retire on but still.” He shrugged as he led you through his sizeable house, up a set of stairs and towards the back balcony, “Plus, this place didn’t seem so big when I was sharing it with my ex-wife and our kids. Uhh, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Now, make yourself comfortable out here and I’ll just go check on the food.” You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the sheer number of rooms and hallways you’d passed as well as the fact that your old Biology professor had once been in a band. It was hard considering you’d only ever seen him presenting lectures to an audience of tired and often hungover students but you supposed he did have a kind of magnetism that would have been at home on a stage. Still, you’d have liked to see pictures.

Roger returned a few moments later with two plates of food, a couple of wine glasses tucked in the crook of his arm. You quickly reached to relieve him of something, before one of the glasses could shatter and put an end to all your plans. Though perhaps a broken glass would have helped break the ice. It wasn’t the most comfortable dinner you ever had. You found it hard to swallow, hard to sit still, torn between wanting to jump right to the main topic and wanting to let Roger bring it up in his own time. The last thing you wanted was to come across as just trying to get a leg over the hottest professor on campus as if for a dare or a joke. Him retracting his agreement was a very close second last. Instead, you gulped down your drink and tried to focus on the reasonably nice meal Roger had prepared for you. Finally, after watching you top up your glass for the third time, he put you out of your misery. “Why me?” “What?” “Why did you approach me with this idea of…tutoring?” “Like I said before, the rumours abo-” “Okay but there must have been something beyond that. There could have been rumours about any staff member. If the school gossip had said Professor Richardson had a sex dungeon where he tied up women and spanked them, would you have approached him?” “So you have heard the rumours,” “Of course I have. Answer the question,” You stalled by taking another drink, though only a sip that time, “No, I wouldn’t have.” “So, why me?” “You’re hot?” Roger gave you a look you’d seen in the classroom – his stop fucking around look, usually reserved for first years who still treated dissection and cadavers as a joke. You shrugged, “You’re one of the best teachers I ever had. You always said we could come to you with any problems we were having and whenever I took you up on that offer to go over the coursework you were encouraging and supportive and knew how to push me in the right direction without giving me all the answers. I guess I felt like I could trust you. Like you’d take me seriously or at least hear me out before shutting the door in my face. And if the rumours happened to be false then you seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t be offended by them or my proposition.” Roger smiled to himself, but it was only for a few brief seconds and then his professional demeanour was back in place, “Alright, well, I’m listening now so why don’t you tell me about this ex and the sort of things he requested of you. And then I’ll decide whether to kick you off my property or not.” There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t serious about throwing you out, but it didn’t stop you from feeling timid about the conversation, “Umm, okay. His name is Dylan. We were both in your Bachelor bio class, that’s how we met. Or kind of. We were aware of each other but went to different parties and hung out with different people. It wasn’t until last year that we actually met and got chatting and started seeing each other. I thought it was the real thing, like proper love, soulmate stuff. So when he broke up with me it took me completely by surprise. Everything felt perfect with him. Except for the sex.” You paused, feeling a little self-conscious about speaking so frankly about your personal life, and with your professor no less. Roger removed his spectacles and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt, “Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to have to be able to talk about sex with me if you actually want this to work.” “The sex was fucking great okay? Especially at the start. But the longer we went out the more he pushed for me to be submissive to him. He’d joke around about wanting to fuck me while I was asleep or mostly asleep, and he’d dirty talk by calling me his toy or saying that he owned me or sometimes about pimping me out to his friends. I indulged some of his ideas like when he wanted to be especially rough with me, pushing my head down into the mattress, pulling my hair, slapping me, things like that. And it was fun, but I never enjoyed it the same way he did and whenever he brought up the sleep stuff or if he tried to bend me over while I was cooking dinner I always stopped him. He’d laugh about it and say he was just joking but I guess he meant it more than I thought he did.” Roger remained quiet, watching you thoughtfully until he was sure you were finished, “If we did this what limits would you want in place?” “None. I want to be the perfect submissive for Dylan, I want to prove I can be whatever he wants.” Roger shook his head and put down his glass, “What was it you told Dylan when he suggested using you while you were in the middle of something or if he brought up the sleep stuff?” “I just told him no, I wasn’t into it or I was busy.” “Then that’s a limit. If you don’t want to do those things, that’s okay. Everyone has limits.” “But that’s the point. I need to learn how to be into those things so he’ll have me back. My limits are what made him leave.” Roger exhaled heavily though his nose, “Okay then, is there anything you would consider a turn off?” “I don’t know,” “Well I don’t believe that. I’m sure you have at least some idea of what you like and what you don’t.” “Yeah I guess I do but if I’m the submissive one then it doesn’t matter what I want. This is about Dylan and doing what he wants.” “Personally, I’m not big into feet stuff – toe sucking, foot jobs, anything like that – it just doesn’t appeal to me, whether I’m acting more dominant or more submissive, and I’ve made sure to tell every one of the women I’ve been with who hinted that they’d be into doing that kind of thing. A lot of women, in my experience at least, don’t like anal or things like knife play or scenes that feel violent or menacing.” He paused, watching your reactions, “From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like Dylan might be into free use and consensual non-consent so if either of those things sound like a turn off to you, you should let me know. Dylan will have limits of what he’s comfortable with and comfortable doing to others, I guarantee it. You need to make your limits known too. It’s all part of being in a D/S relationship and playing with any kind of BDSM type kink. The main rule we follow is safe, sane and consensual, and believe me, I will make sure we follow it during our lessons. So, is there anything you would consider a turn off or anything you wouldn’t want to do, even for Dylan?” “Can I think about it and get back to you?” “I suppose so. If it helps I can give you an idea of things I could teach you and you can tell me if any of them don’t feel right.” “Yeah, I think that would help,” “Alright umm, obviously because this is about what Dylan likes we should address consensual non-consent and free use at some point, but they would come later. Somnophilia too. I’d probably start with something easier or more common anyway. Spanking is nearly guaranteed, basic bondage methods – cuffs, ropes, that sort of thing – maybe some more extreme bondage too depending on how much you enjoyed the basic bondage. Ummm, choking, maybe some gags, tease and denial for sure. Any of that sounding too scary or intimidating or just not fun?” “They all sound okay I think, although some of them I haven’t heard of before.” “It’s a start at least. Of course, I would begin with the smaller kinks and work our way up to the more intense ones, and hopefully by that point we’ll both be more familiar with your limits and what you are interested in taking further.” “So, does that mean your agreeing to tutor me?” “I can definitely work with this.” “You mean it?” “Yes. Apparently I do.” He trailed his gaze over you for a moment, “How would you feel if I suggested we move this to the bedroom?” Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped your shock hadn’t shown on your face, “You want to start now?” “Sort of. What do we do at the beginning of a science experiment?” “Measure a control group,” “Exactly, you do a control before you mess with variables so you have something to measure them against. In this case, I think we’ll be able to tailor kinks to you better if I have some idea of what you enjoy during sex and what it takes to get you off. Is that okay?” “Yeah, of course, yeah. Makes sense.” “If you want to wait a couple of days we can,” “No, now’s as good a time as any. And the sooner we get into it all the better really.” Roger chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to help you out of your seat, “You’ve always been an enthusiastic student.”

Leaving your plates and glasses on the balcony table, Roger led you towards his bedroom. You wished you’d had a little more to drink, just to dull the sudden wave of nerves that had risen up. You were about to fuck a professor. Professor Taylor. It was a bizarre scenario you’d got yourself into and in an effort to distract yourself a little and calm down, you focused on his bedroom wall as he busied about closing curtains, eyes trained on a framed watercolour of a lake under some cherry blossom trees. “You like it?” “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s pretty,” “I got that while I was in Japan a few years ago.” You nodded, not sure what to say next. “Are you okay?” You turned and found Roger much closer than he had been a moment before. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes, sorry, just a bit nervous I guess. Feels kind of odd now that I’m actually here. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect you to agree to this.” “I did tell you your idea was insane. But that’s okay,” he slowly reached forward, his hand settling on your hip and gently tugging, encouraging you to step in closer, “It’s kind of weird for me too. So, we’ll go slow. And if you want to stop at any time we can.” You nodded, eyes glued to Roger, and let your tongue wet your lips. His eyes followed the movement, “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” There was a playfulness to his voice, teasing almost, and you found yourself relaxing and agreeing that you did. And for the first time you realised just what it meant for those rumours to be true. “So then kiss me.”

******

A kiss you could do. Pushing aside the realisation that this was your first kiss since Dylan left, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Roger’s, though you pulled away quickly. Roger didn’t say anything, just waited, lips lightly parted. Your heart was racing with excitement and uncertainty, but you wanted more. He welcomed your lips the second time they met his, his hand gripping your hip harder now that he was certain you were going to stay. It was almost needy the way he kissed back, something you’d not have expected from your Professor. His nose bumped yours and yet he didn’t seem to care, leaning further into you, his tongue tickling your lip seconds before you felt it slide against your own tongue. Familiar but entirely different from the kisses you were used to. His hands didn’t move like Dylan’s did, not grabbing but gently squeezing, reassuringly firm. His leg was suddenly between yours and you took a step back in surprise. Roger followed so you took another and another until you felt the edge of the bed behind you. Dylan and your nerves almost entirely forgotten, you reached for Roger’s belt. He let you unbuckle it and pull it loose before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, kissing you between looks heavy with desire. He broke away for a moment and toed off his shoes, bending to take his socks off too, “So, is there anything you particularly like, any positions?” You copied his movements, kicking your own shoes just under the bed, “Not really. I can work with whatever.” “Stop trying to please me and tell me what you like Ms Y/L/N,” he said, reaching for your hips again so he could push your jeans down. “I mean I guess I like being on top, riding, whatever you want to call it.,” you quickly unhooked your bra and let it drop to the floor, “But Dylan tended to like me under him.” “New rule,” Roger said, kicking his own pants off his ankle as you tugged his shirt from his shoulders, “No talking about your ex when we’re this close to being naked. Okay?” “Yeah, sorry, good rule.” “Y’know I could have taken your bra off too,” “Faster this way,” “I’ll let you have it this time. But next time I unwrap you myself.” You shivered at the implications of the statement as Roger resumed the kiss and pressed you backwards onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of you, his hands braced on each side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you once more, hungrily.

He didn’t stay there long though. A few seconds later he’d shimmied down your body, creating a trail of kiss warmed skin, until his face was positioned directly above your breasts. You raised your head and watched enraptured as he his eyes met yours, the hint of a mischievous grin lighting up his face, and then he lowered his lips to the top of your left breast. You let your head drop back to the bed and ached your back a little, pushing your chest towards him. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “what if I do this?” slowly he let his teeth sink into you, just for a second. It was enough to pull a small hum of appreciation from you so he repeated the action on your right breast. “Feels good?” “Yeah,” you breathed out, softly. “Yeah?” he asked, pushing himself up so he was straddling your waist, “What about this?” You felt his warm breath surround your nipple before you felt his tongue lap against it or his lips enclose it, letting your eyes slip shut as you drew your lip between your teeth. He seemed to appreciate the response and made sure to repeat the action a few times against each nipple, sucking on one as his gently flicked the other with his thumb. You tingled at the sensation of his warm saliva cooling and gently squeezed your legs together. “Don’t be shy,” he said, sitting up again and laying a hand over each of your breasts, “I can tell you enjoy it when I play with your tits,” You pulled in a shaky breath as he squeezed your breasts, “Mmhmm, yeah,” “Do you want some more?” “Yes, Professor,” He made a short clicking sound with his tongue, “I think we’re past Professor by now, you can call me Roger. And you can tell me what you want,” “I want more,” “More what?” You hummed again at the feeling of him massaging your boobs. “More what? Should I keep sucking on your perky fucking tits? Jesus they’re so fucking soft,” he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, “Or, should I give some other part a bit of attention? Your pussy’s probably feeling a bit left out, huh?” You’d expected him to boss you around, make demands, and you’d expected a bit of dirty talk (the kind where he’d tell you how sexy you looked or that he couldn’t wait to fuck you). But the reality surpassed everything you’d considered likely. You certainly hadn’t expected to get wet just from his tone and his words. And you definitely hadn’t expected to be doing what he asked, agreeing with everything he said. But that’s exactly what was happening, and it felt good. “Please touch my pussy.” “It would be my pleasure,” he smiled softly as he climbed off of your waist and pulled your underwear down, “and yours.”

The change of position gave you a moment to catch your breath but also to take in Roger’s appearance properly. You had to admit you liked what you saw. Of course, you already knew he was attractive. More than once you’d found yourself distracted in class, mind on what a cute bum he had or how shapely his hands were or else on his fluffy hair, light blonde but with streaks of grey blended throughout. He was the epitome of the hot teacher really, especially with his gravelly voice and the youthful sparkle of his eyes, magnified by his usual pair of glasses. What you hadn’t seen before, and what you were revelling in now, was his naked torso. There were muscles in his arms, not Hollywood style bulging biceps and you’d certainly never have noticed them under the sleeves of his work shirts, but they were revealed as he shifted his position and you had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze them. A light fuzz of hair covered his chest, though it was so light it was barely visible, and a marginally thicker thatch of it trailed down into his underwear. And in between was his stomach, the years of fatherhood evidenced by how it softly protruded out over the hem of his underwear. Once, a few years ago, someone had found a photo of Professor Taylor taken in the 90s when he was twenty-something and, thanks to the university meme facebook page and a few students with near influencer levels of followers, just about the whole school had seen it and had wet dreams about it. He’d been stick thin then, eyes ringed by dark grungy eyeliner, long messy hair falling about his face, and his plaid shirt unbuttoned. The Roger settling beside you now was miles away from that boy but you liked his current look, from his shorter hair to his rounder body, though he seemed to have the same skinny legs. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look you over. “This is…better than I thought it would be,” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I just...I could never picture it before, actually being with you. But you’ve made it feel easy and, well not normal, but y’know, not too strange either.” “So you’ve been liking it so far?” “Mmhmm, it’s felt really good,” “Good, that’s what I want to hear. But,” your breath hitched as you felt his fingers stroke between your legs, “experiments not done yet.” He watched his hand as it moved, his fingers sliding between your lips, spreading the wetness that had begun to pool with his earlier attentions. Each shift of his fingers pulled soft sighs and small ohs from you as the pleasure began to slowly build and you pulled him down into another kiss, wanting to feel him closer. He eased the first finger into you gradually, whispering questions about how it felt and if you were ready for more. You’d have expected his constant quizzing to be annoying but he peppered them between comments about making you feel good and dirty talk about getting you ready for his cock as he pulled your hand over to his crotch to give him some small relief. And somehow everything just seemed to turn you on more, his obvious desire to make sure you were comfortable included. You barely registered when he added the second finger, pumping both into you rhythmically as he delicately sucked at your pulse point, though you knew the third was coming, a response to your pleas for more. You’d meant his dick really, ready to move things along but he’d been adamant about making sure you were properly stretched out, not relenting until he’d fit four fingers inside you. “Fo-four?” you whimpered as he pressed the last one into you, “Three not enough?” “Just to be on the safe side. My cock is about average length but its girthy,” “I – oh Roger – It feels huge to me,” “Please, I’m 46, I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world. But I also know it doesn’t need to be to fuck you so right.” You weren’t sure how to reply though he didn’t give you many options, jerking his fingers inside you and making you moan. “I know there are nerves involved which can impact how wet you get and I don’t want to do anything that would cause you pain or discomfort, so I’m going to finger you until I’m ready to stop. You can beg all you want but I won’t fuck you until I decide you can handle it.” Even that was hot though you weren’t exactly sure why, but whatever it was you found yourself nodding in agreement, staring at him through eyes half lidded with pleasure.

When Roger was satisfied that you were ready for more than his fingers, he pulled them from you and got to his knees, shuffling around to rummage through his bedside cabinet. A moment later you realised why as he kicked off his underwear and tore open a condom. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, noting he’d described himself quite accurately. “Sorry,” he said as he caught your eye, “did you want to do that?” “No, that’s okay,” you chuckled, “just that Dylan never liked to wear them,” “Hey, we have a rule remember. And this is the first time I’m fucking one of my students, I’m not doing it raw, are you kidding?” “Sorry. And yeah, you’re probably right to use one.” “Hey, this is just the control remember. Condoms are a variable we can change later.” You laughed at that and nodded as Roger squirted some lube into his palm and began stroking himself, letting out small groans at the contact. “Are you going to fuck me yet or is there something else I have to wait for?” “Careful Ms Y/L/N, you know I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude.” He smiled as he crawled over you again, catching your lips quickly before he sat back on his heels and pushed your legs wide. With a final look, as if to give you a chance to end things before they went any further, he lined himself up and pressed himself into you. You gasped as he filled you easily, bottoming out. “God you feel good,” he panted, “are you okay? Can I move?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “please move.” He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, finding a rhythm. As he got more comfortable in the moment, Roger leaned over you again, pushing his face between your breasts and laving your skin with his tongue. He rediscovered the spots he’d found earlier, humming around your nipples and squeezing your boobs as he thrust into you. “Feel good?” “Yeah,” “You close yet?” “Not really.” “That’s alright,” he said softly as he readjusted his position, sitting back and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You felt the angle change as he fucked into you harder than before, his pace a little faster, “Play with your tits for me.” You didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, panting in sync with his thrusts as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, forcing more moans and whines from your throat. “That’s right, tell me how good it is to be spread out under your professor, full of my hard cock. Christ you’re so fucking tight. Why didn’t I fuck you sooner?”.” You let your moans pick up a little as he ploughed into you, willing yourself to reach your climax. “Yeah? You like that. Are you close now?” “Uh-” “So no.” “Sorry, i-it just takes a while usually. I could f-fake it if you wa-nt to stop.” “No!” his voice sounded strained as he stilled inside you, “This is about getting you off and I will keep fucking you even if it takes all night for you to cum. I just need to readjust again.” Your laugh became a small whine as he pulled out of you and rolled you over so you were on top of him, “what are you-?” “Ride me. You said you like being on top so ride me,” You smiled and pressed your lips to his quickly before settling yourself over him and carefully sinking down into place. As you took him as deep as you could you halted a moment to enjoy the sensation of being full again, gently rocking your hips as you braced your hands on Roger’s chest. He held your gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, pulling them out when they were dripping with saliva. He pressed them together with his thumb before bringing the wet digits to your right nipple, massaging it until you arched your back and tilted your head backwards. There was no way to resist any longer and you raised yourself on your knees before sinking back down, grunting as he hit just the right spot. “Better?” he grunted. “Mhmm,” you managed to get out before a moan, once again lifting and dropping yourself. You settled into the flow of it, the movement of your hips and the way you pulsed around him as you took him harder and faster, feeling the pleasure build and build and build. Until Roger’s voice, cracking with the effort, broke through your concentration. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna cum,” “Okay,” you said, not sure what else you could say, a little disappointed that it was going to be over before you could finish. So much for all night, though you supposed he’d only said that to help you relax and finish faster. At least it was hot watching him unravel beneath you, his grunts and groans loud and shameless, his hips spasming under yours. You waited until he was done, eyes closed and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and then lifted yourself to dismount him. Or you would have, except you felt his hands grab you by the hips and press you down again. “Your turn,” he said it so earnestly, no hint of the dominant teasing from earlier or any egotistical overconfidence, that you found yourself agreeing immediately, shocked into doing what he was guiding you to. You raised your hips again, let him pull you back down hard and before long you’d found your rhythm again. He let go of your hip, moving the hand to messily rub your clit as you shifted a little, changing the angle by a fraction. It was enough to have you careening towards the edge, even as Roger pulled air through his teeth as the extra stimulation. “So close,” you muttered before he could ask, eyes shut, intent on your mission. “C’mon, cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,” You nodded unthinkingly as he encouraged you, feeling it just out of reach until finally the familiar warmth washed over you, a long moan slipping from between your lips as you swivelled your hips, prolonging the orgasm as long as you could. “There you go, good girl.”

******

Roger gasped as you climbed off him and carefully removed his condom to throw it out. “I could have done that,” “You did enough.” He was smiling when you turned back to face him and beckoned you over to join him on the bed once more, pressing a kiss to your jaw and the corner of your mouth before he found your lips again. You sighed against him, lost in the blissful warmth of the moment. “I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” Roger said after some time, his arm draped over your side, your faces inches from each other. “You mean it?” “Yes.” “Because I’m a hot shag?” He let out an exhale of laughter, “Because I would rather you learnt about that kind of stuff from someone like me than some random on the internet who thinks that being dominant means being cruel or causing pain. At least I can make sure you approach things from a healthy angle with your own enjoyment in mind as much as your ex’s.” “Thank you. So…when do we start?” “Give me a few days to plan out some lessons, put together a curriculum.” “Oh, so it’s going to be like proper tutoring then.” “You’re the one that came to a teacher about this.” “Fair enough.” You would have happily stayed there longer and you later wondered if Roger would have let you had an alarm on his phone not gone off, a reminder to put his bins out for collection in the morning. He frowned as he realised the time and glanced at you. The piercing melody had brought the reality of the situation back to both of you. “I guess that means I should leave, right?” Roger sat up and scooted a little further away from you, “Yes, you probably should.” He paused for a moment, “No one can know about this.” “I know, I understand. It’s our secret.” He pulled in a breath, “Exactly, our secret. Do you need me to call you a cab?” “No, it’s fine, I drove here.” “Okay. Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you out.” “Are you okay with this? If you really don’t want to teach me, I’d understand.” “No I want to. More than I should.” “That’s okay. No one will know and we’ll do things your way, whatever you think is best.” “My way,” he muttered to himself, “Yes. Exactly. Okay. Um, tell you what,” he swung his legs out of the bed and bent forward to retrieve the underwear he’d discarded earlier, pulling them up under cover of the corner of the bed sheet, “I will grab my things and go collect our dishes from dinner. You can stay here and get changed and then when you’re ready to go, come find me in the kitchen, okay Ms Y/L/N?” “Sounds great, Professor Taylor.” He nodded at you once more before he left, bending to collect his pants and shirt on his way. You waited a minute or so, mind racing with the events of the evening and the promise of what would be coming, before you too stood and began to redress.

When you felt sufficiently tidy you stepped out into the hallway and headed in the direction you hoped led to the kitchen. Roger was there, redressed and hardly looking like he’d just got out of bed, leaning against the bench, eyes out of focus. When you arrived though his head jerked around towards your movement. “All good?” he asked, “got everything?” “Yeah, think so.” “Well,” he said, leading you towards the front door, “it was great having you. Over. Having you over. I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” “It was great for me too Professor.” “I will see you in class on Monday, don’t forget about that reading you’re meant to do.” “Got it. Um, can I ask about my next tutoring session, when would that be?” “I will talk to you about it after class on Monday if that’s okay.” “Absolutely, whatever works for you Professor.” He opened the door, standing on his side of the entrance as you stepped outside, “Right, well. Goodnight Ms Y/L/N,” “Goodnight Roger,” you said, quickly leaning in to kiss his cheek, “and thank you.” He still looked a little stunned as you got into your car, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #professor roger taylor #it feels so good to be posting this tbh #i cant wait for ya'll to read it and also the rest of the series ksjflsflsjflsjf

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equalstrashflavoredtrash · 4 years ago

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Echoy’aim - 1

a/n: so my hope is for this to be a series, im like really diggin the ideas i’ve got rolling around in my skull and i also wanna take it slow with this fic (I know i have a habit of rushing to the horny bits) While writing i listened to the album Ecophony Rinne by Geinoh Yamashirogumi, which i would totally recommend! it helped me with the vibe. also much love to @maybege and @whenimaunicorn for listening to me ramble and encouring this mess.

wordcount: 2,669 (lol nice)

warnings: this fic is Omegaverse, with a/b/o dynamics, later points in the story will be more smutty but so far nothing sexual happens

PART 2

alpha!Paz x reader // The Mandalorian (A/B/O)

Looking up at the sky, you couldn’t help but notice how bright the new moon was. Even when the moon Wolo was cast in the shadow of Otare, the artificial light pollution from the city of Odharra on its surface was always visible, always glowing. You couldn’t look at the moon without wondering what your family was doing. It was hard to keep track of the time difference between the celestial bodies but you knew that your mom was most likely in her lab working away.

“You also running late?” a voice from behind you asked. With a simple shake of your head you broke the course of your thoughts before turning to find Kel. She wore her commonplace smile, exuding a confidence you were jealous of; she seemed so content and happy with her state, resting her hand on top of her round belly.

“Yeah, just lost track of time,” you mumbled, falling in pace next to her as she waddled along the main path to the center of the village.

“Same here, it took forever to get Boej down for the night. I was so worn out I crashed next to him,” She laughed to herself, moving her hand to brace against her lower back. Without hesitation you stilled, giving her a moment to rest before she continued, “Do you know what this urgent council meeting is about anyway?”

“Apparently there was a distress call from just outside the atmosphere, and some families want to respond,” You mumbled with a shrug, relaying the sparse details you had overheard. The pair of you walked along in a shared silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but you still felt the need to fill the air. “Well, the shipment is arriving tomorrow. Jae will be back with you in no time.”

Kel nodded at your comment, smiling to herself before adding, “He’ll be back and staying on planet until these two are born.”

“I'm sure it’s hard for him to be away from his riduur, especially when you’re so far along.” You tried to ignore the ache in your chest as you watched her rub along the curve of her pregnant belly. It was the same ache you felt when she announced her first son, or when she confided in you before anyone else when she learned was having twins. The pheromones a pregnant omega gave off were supposed to calming in nature to those around them, but the smell of her did not seem to have that effect on you. You wanted to be happy for her, as much as the whole tribe was—it seemed everyone wanted to touch and feel the kicks of her budding children—but you couldn’t help feeling outside of the events as the older omegas reminisced on their pregnancies and offered advice for Kel’s comfort.

Kel’s expression softened as she took in the way you gazed at her body. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she pulled you close, giving a squeeze as she nudged her forehead against yours, “Don’t worry, you’ll find a mate soon. I'm sure of it.”

You tried to smile and seem agreeable, but also took the opportunity of approaching the Greathouse as a chance to break apart. Kel waved as she went in through the main door while you slipped around the corner of the building. Quietly as you could, you used a side entrance to cut to your seat near the center without disturbing too many of the onlookers. You settled on your knees in your place, just behind your grandmother.

The Greathouse was as full as you’d ever seen it, members of the tribe packed in from wall to wall, standing where there wasn’t room to sit; all witnessing the elders’ discussion. Spectators were never uncommon for these meetings, but you couldn’t think of a time you’d seen this many at once.

The seating arrangement in the great space during meetings was in the shape of a wagon wheel. In the center of the hall—at the wheel’s axle—was the fire pit. Circled around that were the eldest alpha of each family. Six in all, a mix of men and women, each with their helmets—an important heirloom and family symbol—proudly displayed before them. Behind the alphas sat their families, spread out to fill the slices of space like the spokes of a wheel. The circle of elders was broken only by your grandmother, the Alor and seventh member of the council. She was the only one without a helmet as she was the only omega. Across the room you could see Kel settle down among her family as a cousin offered her his chair.

You tried to quietly whisper an apology for your tardiness but your grandmother waved you off, patting your leg with one hand. In the other she held a small leather pouch. The discussion was in full swing now but you focused more on reaching for the steaming kettle by the fire than what was being said at the moment. You refilled your grandmother’s mug before pouring a drink for yourself.

“They are Mandalorians!” One of the leader’s voices boomed from across the circle.

“They are warriors!” Another replied, slamming her balled fist on the ground to emphasize her point. “We are farmers, we have chosen peace—all of us have!—there is no place for warriors among us.”

The people watching were nearly silent—only occasionally clapping in agreement—rapt with attention as the group of six continued to make their points over the crackling of the fire and each other. You tried to listen to the arguing, weighing their opinions in your own mind, but your eyes kept wandering to your grandmother’s hands.

Idly, she took a sip of her tea, unbothered by the noise, all while continuing to rhythmically bounce the pouch in her grasp. You could almost hear the familiar muffled sounds of the contents being jostled by the movement, the way they clack against each other.

“This bickering will get us nowhere!” The man seated to your grandmother’s right rang out. It was Vres, your eldest Uncle, and the head of your own family. “Please, Alor,” he said in a calmer voice now that the arguing had halted, turning to face his mother, “Tell us, what do the bones say?”

All eyes were on your grandmother—necks craning forward to get a clearer view while those in the back stood from their seats—all watching as she twisted her wrist, pouring the fragments of bone from the pouch. The small white pieces, edges smoothed and rounded by age, bounced and scattered about, settling in place upon the ground before her, seemingly at random—but you watched the way her finger guided along above the arrangement. Studying each one in time, taking in their relation to each other. You tried to recall your lessons and understand what she was reading.

“The bones speak of the echoy’aim,” she finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the audience, “They speak of the deep pain we all know.” Carefully she reached forward, gently picking up one bone with her bent, arthritic fingers, holding it up to the light of the flame. This one you recognized.

‘Both possibilities and aliit, our family,’ your grandmother had explained when she’d decided it was time for you to learn and had first shown you the bones. ‘It breaks off in two directions, representing the parting of ways or the branching of generations; what matters is how you read it.’

“They remind us that when one brother is safe, we all are safe.”

- .-- --- --- .-- ..- ...-

There wasn't much contest after your grandmother spoke. The vote was unanimous—begrudgingly so by some—that the soldiers would stay with the tribe. The matter of whether they would truly integrate with Cuun Adate, or move on after a briefer respite, was left open to future discussion.

The covert arrived late at night, eager to land after an arduous journey. Most of Cuun Yaim was asleep when their ships first touched ground. You were awake in the loft of the Greathouse at the time, having said that you were going to bed but then losing track of time reading on your holopad.

It was lonely in the loft now. You missed the nights with the other omegas. When you moved from your parent’s home to the loft, the other beds were taken, since all of the other omegas had come of age before you even arrived in Cuun Yaim. You had ended up sleeping next to Kel, spending most of those nights together talking until you fell asleep; discussing the possibilities of the future as a full member of the tribe with a loving riduur.

Now, most nights you spent your time alone in the loft, bundled up with all the extra, unused pillows from the other beds. The loft was reserved for young omegas without a mate. It was over the main entrance of the great space, looking down over the central fire pit. It got very warm and cozy on cold nights, especially after gatherings that filled the hall with people like tonight’s meeting.

At the far end of the hall was the Alor's residence, where your grandmother lived. Your Uncle and his family currently stayed there too, helping to care for her in her old age after she minded and taught their younglings during the day.

After the last riduurok—when it was apparent that you would be the only one left un-mated and alone in the loft—your grandmother offered for you to sleep downstairs but you refused, insisting you wanted your own space and that the warm loft would be nice in the coming cold months.

So now you spent your evenings alone, reading your holopad as you listened to the dying fire below and the muffled sounds of your uncle’s riduur singing their pups to sleep.

This night was different due to the expected arrivals. You could hear your grandmother still awake working away at her weaving and humming along—the wooden clacking of the loom keeping time—far past when she would normally turn in.

Your eyelids were heavy, the text before you becoming blurry as your wrist started to slump, almost dropping the holopad when you were jolted awake by the creak of the large door opening.

Cautiously crawling across the wooden planks on your knees, you listened closely, trying to count the footsteps before you could see how many people had entered. You were so focused that you hadn't noticed that the clack-clack of your grandmother's loom had stopped.

Shuffling on your belly, you approached the edge of the loft. Carefully you eased forward, peering over the sawed ends of the boards to watch what was happening around the fire. Your grandmother was plain to see in her usual seat but you followed her line of vision and spotted the newcomers entering the hall.

The pair were easy to identify as Mandalorian; the first wore a golden beskar helmet that bore a series of small horns that circled around the crown of their head—almost Zobrak-like in their arrangement. A helmet that was not removed despite entering the great hall, something you chalked up to them being uneasy in a new place. Still, they knelt when approaching the fire, showing deference to your kin. That was when you noticed the second visitor. You could smell him before you even looked his way. His scent commanded your attention instantly—his pheromones, both musky and masculine in essence, held your gaze on him though you wanted to hear what the other was saying to your grandmother. Still you forced yourself to pay attention.

The one in the horned helmet stepped forward, urging your grandmother to stay seated. Reaching forward your grandmother clasped their forearm, a greeting you recognized as one shared between friends or equals.

"I apologize for our untimely arrival, but I'm sure you understand the urgent nature of our situation. Thank you again, for taking my people in on such short notice." Hearing the second Alor's voice you recognized she was a woman and wondered vaguely curious of her disposition and what their covert's traditions were.

Normally it was easy to tell by scent who was an alpha or omega, but the smell of the silent soldier was so overpowering to you, every other scent in the room was dampened compared to him—even the smell of the wood smoke. It was hard to discern much about his appearance from above but he stood tall, clad in blue armor. He seemed intimidating in stature, even without the protective layer of beskar you could tell he would tower over you.

He remained silent as the two Alors spoke, standing near the fire to warm while listening to the conversation. You felt almost mesmerised as you studied him, unable to tear your eyes away a second time. It was like watching the alphas in the village spar: paying close attention at every moment so you don’t miss the winning blow—but now instead of hoping to see a hard right hook you would have been content just seeing his fingers idly twitch.

You thought he was engrossed in the Alors' conversation when his helmet abruptly turned, almost instantly focusing on you. Even though his entire face was obscured by the dark tint of his helmet's visor, you could feel his eyes landing on you tucked away in the shadowy eaves of the Greathouse.

He held your gaze so intently you found yourself loathe to break the connection, even though normally you would look away from such direct eye contact. He was a proud alpha—you could not only by how he held himself, but by the heady scent of his disposition swirling up with the wood smoke to find you in the loft.

There was something warm about the smell you couldn't name. Breathing it in, you felt not quite drowsy, but content. Lulled by his infatuating scent, you tucked your arms in close and rested your cheek on your wrist—all the while continuing to keep gaze with the blue soldier.

Your grandmother waved away the other Alor's apologies with her usual air. "You are safe, that is what matters most." She leaned forward, using the end of her cane to poke at the crumbling embers that were the last log. "You must be tired, please rest here."

"It is too late. The others will sleep on the ship tonight, so as not to disturb the village, but Paz and I will gladly accept your offer." Holding out a gloved hand she gestured to her silent companion as your grandmother hummed in agreement.

"Very well, then I must turn in." Your grandmother declared as she braced her cane, moving to stand. You could feel your muscles twitch with the impulse to help her, even though you were watching from the shadows. Instead of yourself stepping forward, it was the blue soldier.

He circled around the fire in barely two long steps, reaching for her elbow before she could dismiss his aid as she normally would. He walked slowly, keeping her pace as she shuffled along to the door that led to her living space.

"I had my son-in-law set out some blankets for you, I hope there is all you need," your grandmother commented, turning around to speak to him.

"All that you provide is more than plenty, and I am thankful for it." His response was simple enough—the proper manners for speaking to an Alor—and your grandmother approved, smiling as she ducked past the curtain that separated the living quarters from the great space. The sound of his voice sent a pang through you, something that echoed in your form before settling as a warm heat between your thighs.

Returning to your bed, you climbed under the covers, basking in his scent as it continued to waft up to you as the blue soldier rested below your rafters. Unable to deny your biology, you were easily lulled into a comfortable sleep—resting more easily than you had since the loft had become so empty.

/// NEXT >> //

Glossary [literal definition](functional definition) Echoy’aim - [searching/mourning + home](the Mandalorian Diaspora) Cuun Adate - [my people](the name of the Tribe) Cuun Yaim - [my home](the name of the Village) Otare - The planet Cuun Yaim is on Wolo - The Moon of Otare Odharra - The largest city on Wolo Riduur - Spouse (mate) Riduurok - a bond of love, marriage

///

if you enjoyed this and want to read more, please leave a comment letting me know!! Feedback is a big motivator for me! also lmk if you would like to be tagged in the future 💚💚

tag list:

@maybege @whenimaunicorn @grungyblonde @cptnbvcks @ivarinleatherpants @ayybtch @trippedmetaldetector @gallowsjoker @vvpoisonous @spacegayofficial @zombiexbody @ivars-heathen

#alpha!paz #alpha!paz x reader #paz visla x reader #the mandalorian #paz visla #my writing

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bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years ago

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Parents fucking suck bro. [Corpse Husband & Reader]

Warnings: Arguments, bad parents, swearing, crying Summary: Y/N loves playing with Among Us with the others, even if she's the youngest among them. While shes playing with them, her parents walk in and are not happy with the fact she’s playing with them. There's a big argument and shit goes down but Corpse is there to comfort Y/N. Tag list: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20 @fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland @loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @hairbrush-anon @babyhoneystvles

--------- --------- ---------

“Hey guys” Y/N greeted happily as they entered the lobby in Among Us. They have been playing Among Us with Felix, Sean, Rae, Toast, Sykkuno, Charlie, and Corpse for a while now. Y/N was 18 and still living at home, making money off of YouTube. They’re parents were strict and wanted them to have a “real job” like being a doctor. Y/N knew their parents were toxic and would disapprove of their job choice, so they keep it a secret.

“hey Y/N”

“Hello”

“hii”

“Whats up Y/N”

Everyone began to greet them, which made them smile. Y/N was filming the gameplay of this for a new video on their channel. Everyone seemed to love when they played Among Us, so they always played it- doing commentary and music on the side. “How you guys doing on this..” they looked out the window of their darkened bedroom, seeing heavy rain pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky. “Pretty damn depressing day where i'm at, holy shit.”

There was a couple of laughs and chuckles, and everyone began to state what the weather was like where they were. There was a lot of “Its nice out where am”s. It rains a fuck ton where Y/N lives, especially during spring. But they loved it, rain was their favorite.

“Alrriiight is everyone here?” Toast asked.

“Nope, Corpse is joining.” Sean announced, which caused sounds of happiness. Corpse was everyone's favorite, it was that damn voice. Corpse was Y/Ns bestie, they always had each other backs. There was many people who shipped them, but they both only wanted to be friends.

A few seconds after Sean spoke, Corpse joined. “Hey guys.” Corpse said, he sounded tired. But that was common for him, he told you about his insomnia. He probably didn’t get any sleep last night.

“Alright lets start the game.” Sean said, clicking to begin the game. Y/N smiled at the big letters reading “IMPOSTER” at the top of their screen. They’re a really good imposter- as they were told. They first went to blend in with crewmates, going to walk around a bit. While roaming around, they went into electrical to fake a task. Y/N saw this as the perfect chance to get their first kill in. So, they snuck up and killed him, then they vented to escape.

After a minute, a dead body was reported and they were now at an emergency meeting.

“Where was the body?” Toast asked.

“I found the body iiin.. electrical.” Rae replied, “Who was in there last?”

“I did see Y/N walking towards electrical.” Felix said, “That is where the body was found.”

“Yeah, but did go into electrical?” Y/N said, “I was heading to reactor, I had a task there.”

“Not the best alibi.” Sean said, “But I’ll take it.”

“Could be Rea, but.. wait no.” Sykkuno said.

“How could it be me if I reported the body?” Rae chuckled.

“Yeah I know I just realized.” Sykkuno replied.

“So... skip vote?” Corpse said.

“I’m still sus on Y/N.” Felix said while voting for Y/N.

“Vote Aoc shes kinda sus.” Y/N said, voting for Rae.

“Wha- Y/N!” Rae said.

“Sus.” Y/N said plainly.

“Ok yeah i'm skipping this vote.” Toast said, skipping the vote.

Most people skipped the vote, so no one was out. Y/N continued to play the game how she would, until she killed someone and had to quickly vent because someone just walked by. That made them shriek, “oh sugar honey ICED tEA-” they laughed, “That was a close one, hah.” Well seemed they were being too loud because their mother walked in.

“Why are you being so loud?” She asked, just as an emergency meeting started.

“Oh shit- my moms here hold on.” Y/N said, going to mute but misclicking, so now they were all going to hear this. “I’m just playing Among Us.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a job instead of playing stupid video games?” Mom said, stepping into the room.

“Oh- uhm... I do YouTube as a job. I make money of it.” Y/N replied quietly, knowing what was to come next.

‘whAT?! YouTube is not a fucking job Y/N!! Me and your father told you many many times that we want you to be a doctor!” Mom yelled. Y/Ns sister got into a great college because of her smarts and intelligence, shes going to be a surgeon one day. But that just wasn’t Y/N, they wanted to make content for the people on the internet. And so far, it was working pretty damn well.

Y/N sighed, “Oh my god mom shut up! I hate all that doctor college bullshit. Im making enough money on here!”

“Are you delusional?! Why can’t you be more like your sister, shes so successful!” Mom yelled, she was in disbelief. She wanted to have the perfect children, but she only got one.

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COMPARE ME TO HER?!?” Y/N screamed, beginning to cry. “What does it fucking matter?!”

“You are such a fucking disappointment. Get off that damn game!” Mom said, running over to pull Y/N away. But Y/N pushed her back.

“Bro FUCK off! its my goddamn business, Im a fucking adult now, leave my shit alone!” Y/N screamed through the tears.

“I am your mother! I know best! Now get off that fuckin- OW!” Y/N slapped their mother straight across the face, pushing her out of their room and closing the door, locking it. They sat back down and looked at her screen.

“Oh fuck. You heard all of that.” Y/n choked a little, “Shit.”

This is where Corpse came in, breaking the silence and shock between everyone. They listened to the whole thing, messaging each other in the chat what to do. “Hey, your moms an asshat.”

Y/N flinched, hearing banging on her door and screaming. “And a fucking psychopath!” they sunk down a bit, putting their hands on their forehead and breathing heavily. “Shes gonna kill me!”

“Hey hey hey, its alright Y/N. Don’t let her get to you, she doesn’t know what shes saying.” Rae said.

“I personally think you have great content.” Toast said, “I don’t think i would trust you as a doctor.”

“hey don’t listen to her Y/N, we’re always here for you.” Corpse said, “DM me and we can talk about it more, ok?”

Y/N sniffled, “Ok.” Then they muted, taking their phone out to DM Corpse.

T/N: Hey

Corpse_Husband: Hey are you doing alright?

T/N: No

T/N: Do you think im a disappointment? Is YouTube really worth it?

Corpse_Husband: Disappointment? no. The only disappointment is that sad excuse of a mother you have. And YouTube? hell yeah its worth it. I started youtube off when I was younger and had a blast. If you’re having fun and making bank keep doing it! You’re 18, your mother doesn’t control you anymore.

Corpse_Husband: Pewdiepie is a subscriber to your channel

Corpse_Husband: That should be enough motivation

T/N: you have weird ways of making me happy :’)

Corpse_Husband: I do have facts.

Corpse_Husband: But seriously, please dont have a panic attack, those suck. But do you wanna play more Among Us? It might cheer you up :D

T/N: Yeah yeah yeah thanks. And sure, I’ll play more among us. Thanks Corpse, your the best best friend 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🌹🌹🥀

Corpse_Husband: 🥺

~The End~

Oh my god this ones terrible. I might rewrite it in the future.

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #fanfiction #requests #oneshots #bad parenting

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burntmcnuggies · 4 years ago

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Hawks and S/O Play Among Us

Hawks x Reader

Just a small headcanon I made since me, my mom, my brother, my step-sister, and some of my friends play all the time! If you wanna play together or just chat with me lemme know and I’ll make a private group for you all to join and chat with me! ;)

Warnings: strong language, excess use of profanity, so if you don’t like very strong language please leave! A slight little bit of suggestive sexiness from Hawks, but it’s very very brief! That’s it!

Enjoy!

* Cheats all the time. So make sure you both are in separate rooms. If you’re beside him playing on your phones, he will for sure peek over and see if you’re an imposter or not.

* If you’re both Crewmate he’ll stay glued to your side. He’ll do all tasks with you, make sure he follows you if something got sabotaged, even though this may cause you to lose. “Hawks go to the other one! We only have 15 seconds!” “But what if you die? I’ll be all alone, and everyone will sus me because I stayed with you all the time!” “That’s why you don’t follow me and act sus!” Needless to say it’s difficult getting him to leave your side. If you do die, he’ll start blaming your killer even though he has no proof at all. Then he gets voted out and you do tasks together as ghosts. He’s one of those people to randomly start accusing people, and will use you as an alibi. “I was with my girlfriend and brown was following us. He’s pretty sus.” Then you get spams in the chat saying “wtf.”

* if you’re both imposters, he’ll make sure to sit by you and run around freely by himself knowing you’re safe. Even in a fictional game he makes sure you’re safe... most of the time. “FUCK! FUCK!! BROWN SAW ME!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!” “LIE!” “THEY ALL WANNA VOTE ME OUT WHAT THE FUCK?!?!” Voting occurs, and you vote him out. “YOU BETRAYED ME?!?!” “WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?! IT WOULD BE SUS IF I DIDNT!!!” He’ll start pouring and follow you around in his little ghost form, assisting in sabotage and warning you if there’s anyone around so you can kill people. If you were away from each other, he would venture on his own and sometimes follow you to see if you can double kill. “Yes! Good job, dovie, you make a great sidekick!” If you are being accused, he’ll defend you immediately, which makes it all the more suspicious. Then you both end up getting voted out.

* You’re the imposter and he’s the crewmate. You kill Hawks first. Always. You have to or else he’ll rat you out immediately. He’s very competitive if you are on opposite teams. If you do get voted out he’ll rub it in your face and laugh. “You’re so predictable, dovie. It’s not even funny!” Well, apparently he thinks it’s funny. He also thinks it’s funny seeing the pouty expression on your face. If your teammate kills him, you start laughing at him. “Hah! Yellow got revenge! Thank you yellow! Carry us to victory!” He scowls. “At least I made it farther.” If you successfully kill him, he’ll stalk you through his little ghost and scrutinize your methods. “You killed him in the open, If it were real you’d be locked away by now.” “It’s a game babe. Let me play how I wanna play. You’re acting childish cause I killed you.” “I hope they vote you out. Liar. Murderer. Imposter!” When you end up winning he’ll pout. “I’ll get you next time, baby bird.”

* He’s the imposter and you’re the crewmate. He’s very good at it. He likes to wait and kill you last since he loves to taunt you. Then he’ll lie to the entire chat and act all innocent. However, if you’re playing with friends, this plan always backfires. You don’t even suspect him because he’s so good at playing the role of an imposter, it’s almost scary. If he’s the imposter, he always wins. If he’s acting sus, you call an emergency meeting and immediately convince everyone to vote him out. It’s a desperate last effort tactic to try and win against him. Of course, he smooth talks his way out of things and you’re the one that gets booted. There will be a small little thing at the end where you are playing with friends :)

* Characters, of course yours is whatever you want, but Hawks... he loves to do stupid ass nicknames that you and all your friends and his make fun of. It’s consisted of “Sexy Bird” “No. 2 Bitches” “(Y/N)’s dick giver” “chickenman” “nugget king” “Endeavor my daddy” “Endeavorsimp” “Hawks” The last one is to try and make his fans day if he has any that play when you both just play online together. His character is almost always yellow with little goggles on top, a white suit, and a mini crewmate as his pet. Many don’t believe that it’s actually Hawks, not until he posts pictures on his social media of you and him playing together.

* Playing with Friends: You, Hawks, Endeavor, Mirko, Dabi, Tokoyami, Shoto, Twice, Shigaraki, and Aizawa (you convinced him to play) All of you are on call. Hawks invited Endeavor, Mirko, and Tokoyami. You invited everyone else. (Lets all pretend that you all are normal and there’s no heroes or villains, just all adults with jobs playing kid games. (U/N) is username by the way since you all get to choose ^^

Below is a short story I wrote for this!

------------------------------------

Small Key!

-(U/N) = You (Orange, Pink, Light Green)

-Sexy Bird = Hawks (Yellow)

-Dabeebee = Dabi (Purple)

-Zzzawa = Aizawa (Dark Green)

-QueenRab = Mirko (White)

-MyDadSucks = Shoto (Cyan)

-DarkBoy = Tokoyami (Black)

-Crustball = Shigaraki (Dark Blue)

-2wice = Twice (Brown)

-Endeavor = Endeavor (Red)

------------------------------------

“Hey everyone!” -(U/N)

“Stop being so happy (Y/N).” -Zzzawa

“Hey Doll.” -Dabeebee

“Dabi~! Your user name is your name in my phone!!! How sweet!” -(U/N)

“Hey, I’m right here. Don’t make me come up there and teach you who you belong to again pretty birdie.” -Sexy Bird

“TMI!! I don’t wanna hear about you’re pathetic sex like Keigo. Baby dick.” -QueenRab

“Language Mirko. Please. Who else is joining (Y/N)-“ -Endeavor

“YOU BITCH WE HAVE BOMB ASS SEX!!! TELL HER (Y/N)!!!!” -Sexy Bird

“Can we just start?” -Crustball

“Please.” -Zzzawa

“I agree.” -MyDadSucks

“Shoto change your name.” -Endeavor

“Fuck off old man.” -MyDadSucks

“I am ready to begin this journey of darkness and deceit.” -DarkBoy

“Me too! Oh hell no, I’m not doin’ this.” -2wice

“Guys! Shut up! I’m about to start the game so we all have to go on mute okay?” -(U/N)

“(Y/NNNNN)! You didn’t tell Mirko about our fucking amazing se-“ -Sexy Bird

------------------------------------

You pressed start before your lover could even finish whatever he was saying and rolled your eyes shouting from the guest bedroom. “KEIGO YOU BASTARD IM REALLY GONNA KILL YOU IF YOU SAY ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT OUT SEX LIFE!!!!” He shouted back almost immediately. “SHE CALLED OUR SEX PATHETIC!!!!” You called back. “ITS NOT BABE ITS FUCKING AMAZING NOW SHUT UP AND PLAY!!!!” The little ‘Shhhh’ appeared and it turned out you and Dabi were the imposters. You grinned widely and went towards the right of “The Skeld” map. You ran up towards weapons to pretend to do the task. You took the time to attempt to sabotage the lights like you always did, but it sadly was still loading. Then a purple little astronaut came beside you with little wolf ears. And the name labeled above was red with the word “Dabeebee.”

‘Alright Dabi... lets kick some ass.’ You thought to yourself with a grin as you finally got your kill cool down relinquished. The first thing you sabotaged was lights, and then you began your search for your lover. You went down and turned left, checking to see if anyone was in communications. No one. You then went through lower storage and up Into electrical. You were met with a dark blue color. Poor Shigaraki, your first victim. Keigo could probably wait. Dabi would back you up. You clicked the kill button on your phone and immediately jumped into a vent. You popped out of MedBay and pretended to do the sample task. Then your screen flashed.

------------------------------------

*DISCUSS/ Dabeebee reported a body*

*Crustball has died*

------------------------------------

“Well, there goes the crusty bastard. He sucked anyways.” -Dabeebee

“Where was the body?” -(U/N)

“It’s (Y/N). I know it is.” -Sexy Bird

“What the hell kinda evidence for you have that it was (Y/N)? I’ll kick your ass if you do it again. You weren’t near her you were with Endeavor and I.” -QueenRab

“Those are some pretty bold accusations against me my love.” -(U/N)

“(Y/N) was with me the whole time. The body was in electrical. We were together going down there and she kept going while I went to go do a task.” -Dabeebee

“It was Dabi! No it wasn’t, he’s a good guy! No! He’s evil!” -2wice

“It was Endeavor.” -MyDadSucks

“It’s (Y/N) and Dabi. You guys have to believe me! I know my birdie and she is an imposter right now. Don’t trust her.” -Sexy Bird

“Shut the fuck up.” -QueenRab

“Kei baby you soundin’ kinda sus, quickly blaming me and Dabi.” -(U/N)

“It’s Dabi and I. And no, I didn’t-“ -Endeavor

“WHATEVER ENDEAVOR WE AREN’T IN SCHOOL!!!” -(U/N)

“I’m a school teacher, (Y/N). Don’t forget I tutored you our freshmen year.” -Zzzawa

“That makes me sound old Shōta.” -(U/N)

“Discussion time just ended. What’re we doing?” -MyDadSucks

“I’m still voting (Y/N).” -Sexy Bird

“Oh yes, I love you too Kei’. So much.” -(U/N)

“It was dark. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know where I was.” -DarkBoy

“I’m votin’ Keigo cause he’s bein’ a petty little dickless bitch.” QueenRab

“RUDE.” -Sexy Bird

“I’m skipping.” -Dabeebee

“Me too.” -(U/N), DarkBoy, 2wice, Endeavor, and Zzzawa

------------------------------------

7 skips: (Y/N), Dabeebee, DarkBoy, 2wice, Endeavor, and Zzzawa

1 vote for Endeavor: MyDadSucks

1 vote for Sexy Bird: QueenRab

1 vote for (U/N): Sexy Bird

------------------------------------

*NO ONE WAS EJECTED*

------------------------------------

‘That’s good no one believe Keigo. If they did me and Dabi would be- Dabi and I would be dead.’ Next turn you went left, heading down to MedBay to “finish” the samples. While you waited you checked to see if you could sabotage. A couple seconds later the oxygen depletion was activated. ‘Nice Dabi!’ You cracked a smile and left MedBay, running into a red character, Endeavor. Poor Endeavor. You successfully reached lower engine before killing the old player. You quickly passed Mirko and your face paled once you realized she would find the body and report it, seeing you leaving. You only continued in, receiving nothing from the others about a dead body. You weren’t gonna ask questions. Suddenly...

------------------------------------

*DISCUSS/ MyDadSucks reported a body*

*Endeavor and QueenRab have died*

------------------------------------

“Well, it wasn’t my old man.” -MyDadSucks

“ITS (Y/N) AND DABI!!!! VOTE (Y/N) OUT OR WERE GOING TO LOSE!!!!” -Sexy Bird

“I already voted.” -Zzzawa

“That fast? Who’d you vote for?” -(U/N)

“Hawks.” -Zzzawa

“WHAT?!?!” -Sexy Bird

“I agree! No wait! He’s telling the truth! No way! He’s totally an imposter!” -2wice

“You are being very loud and suspicious. You’re also only blaming (Y/N) and Dabi for no reason. You didn’t even ask where the body was. You passed me coming up from reactor. And the body was in lower engine. You were the only one I sa-“ -MyDadSucks

“I WAS WATCHIN’ SECURITY CAMS!!!! CMON MAN!!” -Sexy Bird

“I’m voting Kei’ too.” -(U/N)

“Me too.” -Dabeebee

“I will not eject my mentor. He’s taught me a lot. He’s intelligent. I believe him.” -DarkBoy

“THANK YOU TOKOYAMI!!! SOMEONE HERE APPRECIATES MY SMARTS!!” -Sexy Bird

“What smarts? You’re a total birdbrain.” -(U/N)

------------------------------------

5 votes for Sexy Bird: MyDadSucks, Zzzawa, Dabeebee, 2wice, and (U/N).

2 votes for (U/N): DarkBoy and Sexy Bird

------------------------------------

*Sexy Bird WAS EJECTED*

------------------------------------

(Dead Chat)

“YOU WERE RIGHT KEIGO ITS (Y/N) and DABI!!!! HE KILLED ME WHEN I FOUND ENDEAVORS BODY AFTER SHE KILLED HIM IN LOWER ENGINE!!!” -QueenRab

“I was the first one to die. It’s been boring. I haven’t been doing anything.” -Crustball

“YOU ARENT DOING TASKS?!?!?!” -QueenRab

“They’re already going to win.” -Endeavor

“SHUT UP!!!” -QueenRab

“I KNEW IT!!!!” -Sexy Bird

------------------------------------

You covered your mouth in shock that you actually got everyone to vote out Hawks. Aizawa was annoyed, Shoto was getting suspicious of how loud and pushy he was being to vote you out without any evidence, Dabi was your teammate so of course he’d vote with you, and then Twice just went with everyone else. You ran down first, running to admin with Tokoyami following right behind you. All the sudden your lover burst into the guest bedroom and stomped over towards your bed, spreading his wings and plopping beside you. “I knew it was you and Dabi. But nobody fuckin’ believed me.” You rolled your eyes and pretended to do the key scan while you sabotaged reactor. “Keigo, you were acting wayyyyy too sus. This is why you always lose when we play with friends. You’re too loud. You gotta be calm and persuasive. How on earth did you become an undercover agent for the FBI.”

“Shut the fuck up. I just wanna win that’s all. I also wanna be right, and I was, and now everyone’s comin’ and tellin’ me I’m right.” He smirked smugly and wrapped one of his wings around you, pulling you close to his chest while he watched you play. You went with Tokoyami and when you finally got him alone in navigation you killed him. Your thumb jerked upwards to go to the vent, but as soon as you did a Dark Green astronaut cane into view. Seeing you vent and leave the dead body. “Fuck!” You cursed and banged your head lightly in your head as the screen lit up. Your lover laughed. “Hey~ there’s still a chance we could win.” You sent him a glare. “Dabi will let us win. He’s a pro! C’mon Dabi! Help me out bro!”

------------------------------------

*DISCUSS/ Zzzawa reported a body*

*DarkBoy has died*

------------------------------------

“(Y/N) vented.” -Zzzawa

“What? Aizawa I literally just fucking saw you leave the body—SHES LYING!!!!” -(U/N)

“Is that Hawks?” -MyDadSucks

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE LITERALLY THE WORST GET THE FUCK OUT OR YOU’RE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH!!!! —THIS IS MY HOUSE!!!! AND I NEED THE BED FOR MY WINGS BABY BIRD!!!!” -(U/N)

“Can you guys fuck some other time? Are you sure you saw (Y/N) vent Mr. Caterpillar man. Do you have your contracts in?” -Dabeebee

“I don’t need input from a unemployed burnt looking drug dealer. It was (Y/N).” -Zzzawa

“A bit harsh coming from a raggedy looking old man.” -Dabeebee

“Can I just point out Twice has been awfully quiet? He bein’ pretty sus right now.” -(U/N)

“I’m the imposter! No I’m not! I’m a crewmate believe me!” -2wice

“He’s too stupid to be an imposter. I’ve been with him he was in MedBay.” -Dabeebee

“Yeah I was! But Hawks is already dead and ratted (Y/N) out! So it’s gotta he her!” -2wice

“Voting ends soon. I’m voting (Y/N). My apologies.” -MyDadSucks

“Agreed.” -Zzzawa

“Awe Shoto it’s okay, I love you so much. This is why you aren’t dead yet because you’re a pure angel! -I’m sittin’ right here pretty bird- no you aren’t an angel, you’re a devilish asshole.” -(U/N)

“I love you too, (Y/N).” -MyDadSucks

“Sorry doll, votes are stacked against you. Good game though.” -Dabeebee

“Yeah, fuck you Dabi.” -(U/N)

“Anytime baby, I’m open.” -Dabeebee

------------------------------------

4 votes for (U/N): MyDadSucks, Zzzawa, Dabeebee, and 2wice

1 vote for Zzzawa: (U/N)

------------------------------------

*(U/N) WAS EJECTED*

------------------------------------

(Dead chat)

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the imposter who killed me.” -Crustball

“(Y/N) I TRUSTED YOU!!!!” -QueenRab

“Guys it’s just a game, don’t take it so-“ -(U/N)

“I STILL WANNA BEAT ALL YOU LAME ASS BITCHES!!!! ILL KICK ALL YOU’RE ASSES!!! JUST YOU FUCKING WAIT!!” -QueenRab

“Mirko please calm down. You’re being loud and obnoxious.” -Endeavor

“(Y/N) is right, even though she killed me. I applaud her devotion to the role. She outsmarted us well.” -DarkBoy

“TOKOYAMI!!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE!!!! -HAWKS GO GET YOUR OWN PHONE STOP YELLING AND GRABBING MINE!!!” -(U/N)

“HAWKS YOURE NOT DOING YOUR TASKS?!?!” -QueenRab

“HELL NO THATS BORING. I LIKE WATCHING (Y/N) LOSE! -HEY! I KILLED YOU!” -(U/N)

------------------------------------

You muted yourself and stopped listening to the chat of everyone arguing, mainly Mirko to everyone about doing tasks. You wondered around and looked for Dabi, following him around and assisting in Sabotage. Warm hands roamed over your waist, and a soft kiss was placed on your temple, soft red feathers brushing over your shoulders and lightly dusting over your leg. “Someone’s getting cuddly.” You announced quizzically, watching Dabi lure Twice into comms before killing him and running out. Your lovers scruffy chin rested against your shoulder, his head leaning against yours as he watched your screen. “Even though I’m still annoyed that you killed me, I’m proud of you baby bird. It’s difficult for people to out talk me. Especially you.”

“Was that an insult or a compliment?” You asked not really sure how to feel about his comment. He laughed lowly, the rumbled of his chest vibrating your back. “Hmm... let’s say both. Win win, yeah?” He began to kiss up your neck, the soft smacking of his wet lips against your skin echoing in your ears and making you shiver. “Keigo... what are you doing?” He hummed in dismissal of your words, rubbing your sides gently before slipping down to your hip. “What? I can’t love on you? I show my pretty bird some affection~?” Your lips set into a firm line and you gave him a look. “...you’re still sleeping on the couch.” He pouted. “So... no sex?”

------------------------------------

*DISCUSS/Zzzawa reported a body*

*2wice has died*

------------------------------------

“It was in communications.” -Zzzawa

“Dabi was with me the whole time. I met up with him after he finished a task in weapons. We fixed oxygen and met back up in the cafeteria and moved to reactor.” -MyDadSucks

“You’re the only one down there, and imposters can self report. You put yourself in a bit of a bind there. Mr. Caterpillar man. Guess the teacher ain’t that smart.” -Dabeebee

“I agree. My apologies Mr. Aizawa. No offense or hard feelings.” -MyDadSucks

“None taken Shoto. The evidence is stacked against me. Good game Dabi.” -Zzzawa

“Nice knowin’ ya both.” -Dabeebee

“Wait what-“ -MyDadSucks

------------------------------------

*Zzzawa WAS EJECTED*

------------------------------------

Victory flashed in your screen and you fist pumped the air cheering in victory. Hawks frowned beside you, pulling his hands away and tucking his wings between you, cocooning himself away from you to sulk that he had lost in a game he was supposed to be really good at. “Baby come here.” You called out to him, gently stroking his wings. He grunted and moved a wing down to glare. “...we can have sex later?” He moved his wings to wrap around you again and his arms were around you tightly, hot breath fanning slightly over your ear. “Thank you love bird~ and congrats on winnin’ the game. But...” You swallowed thickly. “B-But what...?”

“I’ll be winnin’ in the bedroom.”

------------------------------------

“Did you forget we weren’t on mute anymore? Horny idiots.” -Zzzawa

“Hawks!” -Endeavor

“(Y/N) IM COMING TO BEAT HIS ASS!!! DONT LET HIM TOUCH YOU!!!” QueenRab

“I think I should get reward for winning, doll. Wanna come to my place? Forget about that birdbrained idiot. Cum for me~” -Dabeebee

“DABI THE FUCK?! Stop being sexual. It’s disgusting.” -Crustball

“I don’t understand why you’re all like this. Was there a class I missed about being weird?” -MyDadSucks

“No. They’re just weird.” -DarkBoy

“Wait we lost.” -2wice

------------------------------------

END.

#my hero academia #my hero headcanons #bnha dabi #hawks #hawks headcanons #among us #my hero academia tokoyami #shoto todoroki #shoto aizawa #mr aizawa #shigaraki tomura #pro hero mirko #endeavor #twice mha #my hero academia x reader #crack headcanon

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greycappedjester · 3 years ago

Note

HI IM OBSESSED WITH ALL YOUR HAIKYUU STORIES I LITERALLY LOVE THEM ALL YOUR CHARACTERIATION AND STORY WRITING AND STYLE IS SO AWESOME AND PLEASING TO READ I FEEL SO MANY EMOTIONS WHILE READING and because i am in love with him, i wanted ot ask if you have any random headcanons about hinata and his random friendships with people? it can be any characters or comething i just always love hinata content. i also especially liked him and hoshi friendship in hogwarts and how kagehnas understood ech oth

Thank you so, so much :)

Sorry this one's taken a bit to answer; but, I am soooooo glad you like the series and the characterizations and just, ahhh, thank you so much!

So, random friendship headcanons we go....

Hinata and Aone:

-So, Aone is one of the current Prefects where he's amazing and everybody loves him. But, earlier than that and back in first year when Hinata was trying to figure him out a bit because "wow, he's huge and kind of scary but he plays Quidditch so he has to be cool and he's a Hufflepfuff so that's probably good but he also kinda looks like he wants to murder me but maybe he means that in a good way". Anyway, Hinata had a habit of getting lost on his way to Quidditch practice and weirdly almost always ending up next to bathrooms. Until one day, he came back to his room and found a carefully drawn little map with a lot of the major hallways detailed on it. It didn't have a name but, months later, he recognized it as Aone's handwriting and it was one of the kindest things that had ever happened to Hinata at that point. After that, they had an unspoken bond and Hinata only got lost 83% of the time.

Kageyama, Yachi, and Kenma:

-I don't know if I've ever mentioned; but, I need these three as my socially anxious "oh, fuck, someone's talking to me ABORT ABORT how tf do I make small talk" friends. Sure, they all have vastly different responses (Kageyama: Yell at it or glare until it goes away; Yachi: Hide or maybe mutter anxiously; Kenma: grab nearest book and hope they go away) but every now and then they'll have a moment when Lev and Hinata are being particularly Extroverted (TM) when those three just look at each other and go "right, they're the crazy ones here" (No shade to all my extrovert friends, ya'll got Hinata and Lev over there being like "I think our friends need more company!!!!! :D" while the social anxiety trio hiss like angry cats in the corner)

Iwaizumi and Bokuto:

-Voted (in their friend group) "Most Likely to Go the Longest Without Getting Into Any Kind of Mortal Peril" for four years running. I honestly think that except for having the friends they do that the worst trouble Iwaizumi and Bokuto would ever get into would be Quidditch related. That said, I also think both of them would be bored out of their minds since all of them are some kind of brand of danger prone. However, on the days that Bokuto and Iwaizumi are left to their own devices, two things happen: (1) absolutely nothing and it's a peaceful day; (2) everyone comes back to the two in some strange competition--including arm wrestling (Winner: Iwaizumi), orgami (Winner: Bokuto), card stacking (Tie as they decided to work together to combine card stacks into the ultimate card castle....everyone was as disturbed as they were impressed). Idk how to describe it but in terms of energy Iwaizumi and Bokuto have the low-fi version of bro energy where it's equally strange but somehow nothing's on fire...like it would be for any of the other pairings

Daichi and Noya (or also the beginning of the Crows)

The story of how Daichi looked at those crazy Gryffindor first years and went "well, someone's gotta make sure they don't die": Daichi's second year was a strange one. He'd finally made it to the reserve Keeper on the Quidditch team and there was talk that he could take over next year while at the same time that batshit wild first year with the crazy hair turned out to be some kind of flying prodigy and was immediately made Seeker.

Who's a good person to keep an eye on him? "DAICHI," cheers the rest of the Quidditch team. "Wait, what," says Daichi who was late to the meeting. And, thus, Daichi became the father of one (soon two as he learned Tanaka and Noya were a package deal). "Well, at least I'm not doing this alone," said Daichi. "W-what do you mean," said Victim #2-also-named-Asahi.

And, thus X2, Noya and Tanaka (plus Ennoshita who was dragged along with), got two live-in babysitters...one more effective than the other since Asahi got an immediate crush and was completely unhelpful in actually stopping anything since he just kind of blushed and stuttered whenever Noya smiled at him.

Chaos reigned.

Noya and Tanaka friends with the centaurs, made beginning plans to ride the Giant Squid (didn't actually make friends with it until second year), and gave Daichi a lifelong fear of acromantula.

You see, our poor hero Daichi was very fed up and more than a little exhausted. But, at least he had Asahi. "They're really not that bad," Asahi insisted. "I gave Noya a Butterbeer earlier and he said--" Nevermind, Daichi was completely alone.

However, while Daichi debated the pros and cons of child abandonment, he happened to come across an unusual sight.

The sight was Noya, dirty and slightly bruised like he always seemed to be, but holding a small little thing in his hand that took Daichi more than a few seconds to realize what it was.

"Is that a bowtruckle?"

Noya grinned. "Yeah. Little guy fell out of his nest." He nodded up at a tree. "Took me forever to get him to come over. Bowtruckle's are skittish and don't trust people much."

Daichi blinked. "Aren't those nearly extinct and used for lockpicking."

"Yeah, probably why they don't trust people much."

Theoretically, Daichi knew that bowtruckles were incredibly, incredibly rare and that there was more than one magical creatures student that would cry just seeing one, let alone knowing there was a whole nest on campus.

...But, that would also mean that everyone else would know about it, too, and somehow Daichi didn't think that everyone else would handle the little creatures with the same care and patience that Noya did. Actually, come to think of it, Daichi wasn't sure that even he could. Funny enough, Daichi had never seen Noya actually quiet before.

In the end, Daichi helped Noya out with a good Levitation Charm and decided that maybe it wasn't that bad being a single parent at the ripe old age of twelve years old. At least he had some pretty good kids.

.....he has since vocally regretted that roughly 2,012 times and actually regretted it 0.

#hq at hogwarts

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

Captain Bucheon 01

(gif is not mine)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader (Lee Nari)

Genre: policeman AU; enemies to lovers AU

Warnings: langauge

A/N: First chapter! Yay! Super excited! Also, the feedback I got for the prologue - THANK YOU SO MUCH. Im super excited and happy and grateful. Hope you will enjoy this one! ^^

story masterlist masterlist

: prologue

>>>First<<<

Loud screeching was what woke you up. Thundering of footsteps down the corridor made you groan and turn in bed because for god's sake, it was Saturday morning and they just had to be loud at 10am!

Your roommate, lying in the bed just four feet next to yours, stirred awake too, though considering her eyes were fully open, she must have been up for a while now. “I’m glad it’s them waking you up and not me.”

You sighed and managed to smile but you were tired. Life in dormitories sucked, but yours even more so since you were assigned probably the worst dorms in the campus. Having to share bathroom and shower rooms made you leave your comfort zone. But finding toilets in the terrible state you did just purely horrified you. Why weren’t some girls flushing the toilets?!

“You know very well I won’t kill you if you wake me up, Yuyeon-ah,” you mumbled, your voice hoarse. Having Yuyeon as your roommate was the only positive aspect of the dorm life. Some would argue it’s the most important one but you were selfish and you wished you had a private bathroom like the other, more advanced, dorms had. There wasn’t even a kitchen where you could cook your ramyeon deliciously!

“Doubtful,” muttered Yuyeon, amused, and she moved to sit up and start her morning routine while you decided to lie around for just a little bit longer.

Working tirelessly many evenings made you tired and the exhaustion always caught up with you during weekends, where, frankly, you didn't have work. Also, it being the beginning of your second semester, the tension and stress were on but you decided you wouldn't let it affect you too much. You have had enough stress in your entire life and you swore you would become your usual cheerful self.

And you had been, indeed, working on it. But that meant getting over, and hopefully, forgetting everything that happened almost one year ago. Your brother was still in prison and your family, terribly disappointed and in pure shock at what had become of your brother (plus your underage drinking fiasco), you all decided it would be better for you to move to the dorms for the time being. Another story was forgetting about the person who was behind the entire turn-over of your life.

Byun Baekhyun.

You never saw him after that one time he came to your high school. In that moment, you were numb, paralyzed and it hurt to see him. He dared to act like he cared. But over the time, you grew hate towards him. A hate that was weirdly combined with some emotions you really didn't want to pay too much attention to, because they were all based on a fake relationship. A relationship, that was something so beautiful, just for it to end up becoming a complete nightmare. A trauma. A terrible trust issue that you might never be able to get rid of.

It was safe to say that you, Lee Nari, would rather spit at Byun Baekhyun than ever start a conversation with him let alone acknowledge his presence were you to meet him. Not that you were expecting to meet him. After all, you had been incredibly careful - especially around Oh Sehun - in avoiding him by never-ever-ever-ever even coming as much as close to the street where the main Bucheon Police Station was located (but too bad for you; it was literally in downtown Bucheon) and even if you had to cross it, you whined and had to be dragged by your wrist (by Yuyeon). On the good side, there was never a chance for you to cross his apartment building as he lived in a different neighborhood. So that was, thankfully, out of the possible trouble inducing locations’s list.

But still, you couldn't help feeling anxious about spotting him somewhere. The first few months, you might have been looking around with too much hope, wanting to see his real self instead of the ogling at the few photos you had together stored in your phone. Just one glance of his eyes, nose, lips was what you wanted; it was maddening.

Then the flashes of that day came back, ruining every sweet memory, every sweet touch of his engraved into your skin, every stroke of his lips - it all vanished, instead morphing into his stern, burning gaze of which you were on the receiving side. The way he blamed you, the way he wanted to arrest you, and then the way he wouldn't let even your own mother hit you yet he gave you the harshest of punches… The moment of you overhearing his conversation with his tall colleague (you already forgot his name) until your entire world crashed on you. He lied. He never liked you. He never wanted a real relationship with you. He used you to get to you. Byun Baekhyun wanted to arrest you and then he arrested your brother and smashed your heart into tiny pieces. How could you ever recover?

“What, you're not getting up?” shrieked Yuyeon when she came back from the bathrooms, towel hanging around her neck. “The results of the votes are today so you better get up and prepare. You're the school's star, missy,” she grumbled and went over to her table, continuing her complex skin-care routine.

Right.

The way to get over Byun Baekhyun was to live and you could do that thanks to your friends.

Pfft, you had places to be. Forget about Byun Baekhyun.

Because of your communications major, you somehow ended up in the university’s student council. You were representing your school year but it was still unclear how the hell you managed to win over more than half of your classmates when all you ever did was hide or be with Yuyeon.

You entered Bucheon University with pretty damaged self-esteem, your cheerful self still recovering from the scandal. However, despite always doing something mischievous with Yuyeon neither of you had a huge circle of friends. It was only natural that the two of you did everything together. Even now, it was mostly you and her, plus Sehun and some other friends. Unfortunately to you, many males voted because of the nature of your chest. The quiet girl with huuuge boobs, they were saying with hushed voices.

“Don’t pay attention to them, it’s you winning at the end of the day,” advised Yuyeon at the time.

So when the both of you waltzed into the seminar room with a round table in the middle and took seats (Yuyeon was there for your moral support), you could only glare at one senior who was sitting opposite you, his eyebrows wiggling as he shamelessly drunk in your chest which was, as per usual, hidden under an L-sized hoodie. It seemed you could never escape.

When the president of the student council, Chul, appeared you all stood up and bowed to him respectfully even though he was a student just like you. He was the oldest though.

To your surprise, he walked straight over to your chair, throwing a charming smile at Yuyeon, who let out a quiet scoff in return, before leaning down to whisper in your ear, not forgetting to touch your shoulder gently: “May I have a chat with you? It’s rather private.”

When he leaned away, you blinked twice but nodded and followed him outside for a moment. You could hear whispers erupting after you left though you paid no attention to them.

“What is it, Chul?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Chul was one of the very few who never got distracted by it and you were thankful. He helped you a lot in your first semester, like finding you a job and teaching you how to drive a scooter so that you could easily do the deliveries while introducing you to some other interesting people on the campus.

“So about the spring festival - I have two things,” he started, his gaze set on your eyes, always making sure he reciprocated the eye contact. “First, you are taking part in the relay running for our team with representatives. Second, you have been requested as the MC-“

Before he could finish, you sighed holding out your hand to stop him, feeling the nerves kick in, not even paying attention to the first news. “Those votes aren’t even valid. They are all mocking me, Chul. Besides, I don’t wanna do it.”

Chul let you finish, patiently nodding. “Well, hence me stealing you from the meeting.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been requested,” he repeated, emphasizing the last word, “by our main star.”

“I thought we haven’t heard back from the agencies yet?” you asked. You’d written countless emails to various agencies, asking for special famous idols of theirs. To your utter distaste, it also included Siamsa but you couldn’t tell anyone you knew what an annoying, fake bitch she was.

He shrugged. “Well, we heard back from a couple. Siamsa agreed to be the main star of the festival under one condition,” he murmured, lowering his voice. He pointed his index finger at you. “If you’ll do the MCing for her.”

That left you speechless. That delusional woman wanted what now?! “I don’t want to, Chul,” you shook your head, frowning.

It made you wonder why you were getting nervous in the first place. Was it because of her status and having to stand in front of your entire school or was it because of the connection you both shared and that was Byun Baekhyun? Just the idea of having to face her and having to be reminded that she dated your ex made you weirdly sick in your stomach.

He sighed, scratching his neck. “I’m sorry, Nari, but I’m afraid I’m gonna want you to accept it. She is the hottest idol out there and everyone wants her the most. Imagine the attention our university - and especially us, the school council, could bring in. Don’t let us down,” he added gently, though you could sense authority in his voice. Chul was always fair, you had to admit. He never asked you to do anything that made you uncomfortable, never asked you the reason for your reluctance in the past but now he insisted and it showed in his intense gaze.

“I’ll help you with the preparations,” he added, smiling encouragingly. “You’re much more outspoken and talented than you give yourself credit for, so I’m sure you’ll be a star just like Siamsa.”

Well, he really didn’t have to say that last sentence. If there was someone you wanted to be like, it was your good old self. Of course you had more talent, after all you were the big-mouthed one.

Chul patiently waited, seeing that you were mulling over the options. When you looked up at him, you slowly nodded while hating yourself. “Fine. I’ll do it. But-” you stopped him from smiling widely, “what happened with the original voting? Who won?”

“Obviously, you.”

You shook your head quickly. “But I mean who is the actual winner?”

“Not important,” he muttered, brushing past you. “Let's head back inside. Not everyone has the time to sit around waiting on a Saturday.”

Once the meeting was over, you couldn't wait to spill the news to Yuyeon but needed to wait until lunch time, when you would meet Oh Sehun. You had sent him a text earlier asking if he was still grabbing lunch with you and Yuyeon (secretly you were writing these messages for obvious reasons - you couldn't risk he would be with Baekhyun). Since he had agreed, you and Yuyeon were speed-walking to the cafeteria, both of you hungry.

Once sat down and joined by the tall friend, you looked around varily just to make sure he really came alone.

Sehun sighed, tired with your dramatics. “I'm alone, Nari,” he rolled his eyes as he was mixing his tuna bibimbap. “And now spill. The both of you have been acting like rabbits on energy drinks.”

Shooting him a frown, you still rambled away for ten minutes, telling them what had happened. Yuyeon knew about Siamsa and your past experience with her and Sehun also knew the vital triangle connection of Siamsa, Baekhyun and you. He still seemed shocked and even uncomfortable when he heard your entire story.

“What made her request you?” he asked after he swallowed a big chunk of food. “I mean - does she even know your name? Your university?”

“And you literally met her a year ago,” added fervently Yuyeon, deep frown wrinkling her forehead.

Just like your friends, you also had many questions but no answers. Mulling over various possibilities, Sehun finally spoke up: “Should I ask Baek-”

“No.” Your answer was abrupt, but cold, empty and harsh to which Sehun winced the slightest bit. Even hearing his name made your heart race fast and hence the sudden cold behavior. Sehun knew you as a cheerful, kind girl so seeing you being affected by his friend to this extent made him quite perplexed but nothing he wasn’t used to by now. It was his fault; he should have known better than to bring him up.

Yuyeon shot you an unsure look but this time, you ignored it, focusing on shoving around the rice in the steel bowl with the spoon.

“You should have declined,” tried Yuyeon.

“I did decline,” you answered eagerly. “I feel like that bitch might have something up her sleeve. If she does, I should be ready.”

Sehun was flicking his gaze between you and Yuyeon, thinking over your words. Surely, things you didn't know about could hardly hurt you, right?

After lunch, Sehun bid his goodbyes to you.

“Where are you off to?” you pouted, looking up at him with puppy eyes. “It’s Saturday, let’s do something fun!”

“I’m going to the running tracks today with my friend,” answered Sehun and ruffled your hair in amusement to which you pulled back and away from his sneaky hand. “Maybe later, hm? I bet you’re gonna do something with the student council anyway.”

“You and your running, aish!” grumbled Yuyeon. “Go, go, we don’t need you anyway.”

“Don’t get into trouble!” Shouted Sehun as he turned to walk towards the gymnasium and the track field. He waved one more time before he had his broad back on you.

You scoffed and grabbed Yuyeon’s hand, yanking her towards the dorms. “Well, making trouble has been more challenging since we are old enough to do trouble,” you exclaimed, jumping a few times to make Yuyeon walk faster. She whined and tried to pull away but your grip tightened and you snickered. “But that doesn’t mean we still can’t go and have fun tonight!”

“Let’s do one more round.”

“Hyung,” groaned Sehun tiredly, feeling the sweat dripping down the sides of his face. “Enough.”

“One more.” Byun Baekhyun shook his head once before he took off for another round. “Losers will keep losing!” he shouted with a cheeky, handsome smile, running backwards for a bit to check on Sehun and when he saw the tall male run after him in challenge, he snickered and turned back, dashing off into a sprint.

It’d been like this for almost a year. Baekhyun was always a gym buddy with Sehun but in the past eleven months, Sehun became a small, indirect punching back. Whether it was because he suddenly became a mutual friend with a certain someone or whether it was a punishment for being there that night with her, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

One thing he surely did know was that running helped him ease his mind and relax, maybe make him feel a little bit more numb like he so wished to be.

Getting rid of any intruding thoughts of Lee Nari was difficult. He felt sorry for her, the victim of his job. Fooling around with a young girl was not his plan but he knew he did it for the better good. He tried to persuade himself that he did it for the better good while pushing back the need to search for her and make sure she was doing alright.

As he was nearing the finish line, Sehun caught up with him and they both jogged towards their bags nearby the tracks to freshen up. Sehun was heaving like a parched horse which made Baekhyun chuckle as he reached for two bottles, throwing one to his friend.

“Cheers,” exhaled Sehun harshly and quickly opened the bottle, gulping down the needed liquid.

Baekhyun hummed in reply and waited for his heartbeat to calm down before he would have a sip. “How’s everything?” he decided to ask. “The new semester just started.”

Sehun swallowed and closed the bottle. “It’s just the first week. You know the drill - introductions and boring stuff.”

“Nothing interesting happened then?” Baekhyun was very subtle in hints. Sehun was, thankfully, quick-witted.

“We will have the university festival in May,” he replied with the slightest of smirks on his face. “Siamsa is confirmed to perform.”

Baekhyun wasn’t looking at Sehun and even the information he just heard wasn’t worthy enough to make him pay attention. “Cool. She is an artist after all.” He noticed some girls approaching the track and he felt a small tinge of dissatisfaction. He really liked when the track was only his.

“One of my friends will be the MC. Actually, guess what! Siamsa made a special request. Funny, right? In what universe does a singer of her caliber ask for a mere first year student?”

Baekhyun snapped his head to Sehun. “Why?”

Sehun shrugged. “We don’t know why she wanted her out of everyone... though-“ Sehun pulled a thinking face. “It might have something to do with you.”

Baekhyun sighed, already feeling tired. “I don’t like that one bit. Siamsa is sneaky.”

Sehun nodded. “She didn’t want to do it but her senior kind of ordered her. So I guess she doesn’t have another choice.”

“What kind of senior is that if he makes her do stuff against her will?” huffed Baekhyun, his hands on his hips. “Isn’t he supposed to be there to support her?”

“Well, yeah. He did a lot for her so she feels like she has to do it.” Sehun decided to not share any more than that despite sensing Baekhyun’s questioning stare. He knew Baekhyun wanted to know what that “a lot” meant.

When Baekhyun knew he wouldn’t be getting more out of Sehun, he sighed and tapped his shoulder. “Thanks for telling me.” He moved to grab his bag from the floor when Sehun stopped him.

“Hyung.”

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows in question, waiting.

Sehun opened his mouth but then ended up closing it. Baekhyun was a tough nut to crack. It was obvious he was always interested in Nari’s well-being but him pretending not to do so was frustrating.

“I think-“ he re-started, remembering Nari’s emotionless face when he mentioned Baekhyun earlier that day. He opened his mouth to talk but Baekhyun was faster:

“I think it is better to leave everything up to her, Sehun. She is a smart young woman. If anyone can do well, it is Lee Nari. After all, she is finally able to do everything she was pretending to be doing.”

Sehun snorted a laugh, mockingly rolling his eyes. “And since when did you become so-ugh, respectful about that? Nari is stubborn and doesn't know anything about life.”

“It is none of my concern, Sehun,” replied quietly Baekhyun, looking somewhere off in the distance. “But I know she is stronger than you give her credit for.”

“She might hate you and she might not be over what happened between you two-”

“I locked up her brother,” gritted Baekhyun, “and before that, I wanted to lock her up. What makes you think there is any way for both of us to function normally even if we do meet?”

Sehun sighed. It was difficult to communicate with the both of them. Yes, they were both hurt but goddamn it. Anyone could know they cared for each other.

Baekhyun sensed Sehun's dilemma and so he stepped to the taller male and gave him a curt smile. “Don't push it, Sehun. She will be fine.”

Sweat was gradually collecting around your hairline until it turned into one huge tear drop travelling down the side of your face. The text message was as clear as the night sky.

Unknown number

drop it at the 1047 unit

top floor

“It's impossible,” you muttered, feeling yourself becoming nervous. You were standing in front of 1047 and it was definitely not the top floor. It was the first floor, just like the first number indicated.

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you raked your head about possible connections you could contact when you couldn't deliver the boxes as you were supposed to. There was never a responsible person, only an unknown number sending you messages with the quest and a requirement to always be careful (you supposed the carefulness was concerning the boxes). You would receive a confirmation message when the box was in safe hands. That was it. No unnecessary contracts; just you and the job at hand.

You tried calling Chul, you senior. After all, he was the one who fetched you the job but even he wasn't available at that moment.

When you were just about to lose your mind, your phone rang making you almost drop the box. Thank god for your reflexes. “H-hello? Chul?”

“Hey, what's up?” he chirped.

You told him quickly your problem but you weren't expecting his light voice to become more serious. “You can't find the place? Are you sure you are in the right building- shit, the time is almost up. I'll be there right now:”

Heaving out a breath, you checked your wrist watch. The box was supposed to be delivered within fifteen minutes. How would Chul make it in time for you, you weren't sure but you soon found out when you heard his rushing steps, his phone's screen lit up with the exact information you were provided with.

“Hey,” he breathed, taking in your worried gaze as you gave him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the fuss.”

He shook his head once, muttering a single “no need” before he took the box out of your arms and put it down in front of the door. Grabbing your hand he started pulling you downstairs. “We gotta get out of here.”

“Huh?” you looked back at the box helplessly, before you couldn't look anymore, instead watching out for your step on the stairs. “Wait - Chul, I need to fulfill the task.”

He shushed you and before you knew it, you were outside in the chilly air. Dragging you a few more metres, he heard an approaching car's engine and he was fast to push you into a small alley that was barely lit by any street lamps.

“Chul-” you started, frowning. You didn't like him manhandling you like that.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered as he made you press your back against the wall.

“Yeah,” you breathed, eager to hear any information he could provide you with to explain what the hell was going on.

To your utter horror, a police car drove by, but you weren't terrified about why the police car was there. You were terrified about a certain someone sitting in that car and you possibly having to face that certain someone. Just the thought of having to see his shocked or disappointed face yet again made you inwardly whimper.

When the car was far enough, Chul turned to you. “You are doing a great job, you really are. But you mustn't, by any means, get caught by the police while doing deliveries. Got it?”

Feeling your heart thumping loudly from the adrenaline, you nodded. “What about the box then?”

Chul cursed when he looked at his phone. “Three minutes left. Go in and check the box. If it's still there, take it to the top floor as per request. Sometimes they give misleading information to you in case your phone gets stolen. Next time, make sure to double-check all the information they give you, okay?”

You were nodding eagerly and already started walking back to the small apartment building.

“I have to go but write to me if the mission is successful. Now go, quickly,” he said and without waiting, took off into the opposite direction.

Due to the stress, you didn't even stop to think about the weirdness of the situation. Rushing back in, you went to the first floor where you left the box. You were rendered motionless when the box was no longer there.

Someone took it.

Feeling fear creeping into your system, you took out your phone to call Chul just when you received a confirmation message.

Unknown number

the box has been successfully delivered

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