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batsplat · 27 days ago

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hi bat<3 i feel like you’re definitely not a die-hard fan of the big 3, but for someone like me who’s been watching men’s tennis since the early 2010s, they’re like everything.

so i wanted to ask: out of the big 3 (or big 4?) pairings, which duo do you think is more interesting? like which one feels more worth exploring in your opinion?

i just watched roger’s docu recently, and omg he gave novak a solo moment. not like a story about them, just a montage of novak yelling and screaming on court. then roger went, “this might not reflect well on novak.” it lowkey gave me vale/jorge vibes, not a perfect parallel, but within the big3/big4, they’re the duo that feels the least… connected. and yet, when it comes to tactical and technical richness, they’re at the top. roger’s obviously way more arrogant than vale, like he just doesn’t see novak as special or even interesting. meanwhile, novak used to be that guy who wanted everyone to like him, but now he’s completely over it. over the years, there’s just been this constant low-key, non-vibe-y energy between them. but their matches? they somehow deliver these insane moments at the most unexpected times. at the laver cup, roger said something to novak, and then novak cried.

i’m less into roger/rafa, partly because i’m not a rafa fan, but also because they suddenly turned into this ideal rivalry narrative, and honestly, that kinda freaked me out. i’m slowly starting to understand the feelings between them, though. like, i still don’t buy into the whole “greatest rival” thing because, let’s be real, on both the competitive and career-defining levels, it’s just not that mutual. but yeah, their pairing definitely had its advantages—sorry for saying this, but it’s true. the 2008 wimb F is obviously historic, but if you actually watch it all the way through, it’s not that great. it’s the unpredictable weather that gave it that epic feel.

and then there’s andy/novak, who’ve always been my fave because of their history and the emotional layers in their rivalry. like, when viktor troicki recently said novak was looking for a “big name” coach, my friends and i joked about it being roger, but none of us thought of andy. and then it happened. i still can’t believe it. from my very limited tennis perspective, andy’s kinda feels like a subset of novak’s. i don’t really know what qualities do coaches even need in tennis, and how do they maximize a player’s potential? so i’m really curious to see what they come up with together. their dynamic peaked in 2016, which was also the only time the big4 rivalries genuinely made me sad. so yeah, they totally deserve this heartwarming closure.

okay so first off, I have to confess I get a failing grade as a hater because I read this ask reading ?? eating breakfast with this on

I dozed off to the 2019 wimbledon final last night so idk. this isn't nadal retirement-prompted nostalgia, I actually failed as a hater there too and completely missed his last match happening so like. arrived to dance on the grave a day late. BUT the djokovic/murray coaching news DID awaken something suppressed in me. I'll probably watch the 2012 uso final next just to feel something

anyway, what this does go to show is that for all that I am obviously extremely not a fan of the big three, as a tennis fan it's also not like I can pretend to be completely immune. I grew up watching them!! I remember watching so many of their matches! often with my family! I would argue about them all the time as a fan, whether with my family or people at the tennis club or indeed my maths teacher. I was always rooting for SOMEONE, like I did have an order of preference. and... uh, it should be mentioned that I am also not a complete neutral who just intellectually hated the big three because I thought they were shitty sources of narrative tension. I was a massive murray fan as a kid so I did also just get my heart repeatedly broken by them. we're talking 'cried during murray's speech at wimbledon 2012'... I actually watched the wimbledon 2013 final at the tennis club where I trained and was EXTREMELY smug (and delighted) when murray won because EVERYONE including my coach thought djokovic would win and had been extremely annoying in my direction throughout the experience. but also I have never enjoyed a men's australian open final in my life, except 2012 I suppose. that venue holds nothing but pain and misery for me

so with my biases stated up front, where the big 3/4 rivalries are concerned, I'm basically in the 'anybody but fedal' camp. that one I feel nothing for and its popularity continues to absolutely baffle me. no hate to anyone who enjoys it but I do treat its continued dominance basically like a psyop. idk who's responsible for this or why they're doing it, but SOMEBODY is pursuing some kind of nefarious agenda. call me casey stoner because I've cracked the code. I understand they're both individually rather popular and I suppose in a detached unemotional way I do get how that could happen, but as a unit? idk man. also, EYE am a rivalry enjoyer, but I get very suspicious when too many fans are an enjoyer of a particular rivalry... (or y'know, sometimes you've got rivalries that have a lot of 'theoretical fans' but you can kinda tell they do basically hate one of the competitors involved and will immediately throw them overboard if they have to take a side, which also passes the test.) just shows to me that there's zero edge there. most partisan fans of an athlete hate anyone who is a threat to their athlete, that's just how people are. if there's this little hate then that tells me that there's too little threat which tells me the stakes aren't quite there competitively or emotionally... which tells me that there's no real reason to care. I'm well aware that federer fans used to be more likely to be nadal haters back in the noughties (david foster wallace coming through for me again on that front) and that nadal fans are more into that rivalry than federer fans and that they're both retired now... but still!! if it was a proper fun rivalry, more partisan fans would still be bitter. fundamentally the rivalry is good for both of them in terms of legacy and pr and all that shit and they both clearly agree so it's just... empty

which yeah, so full agree on the stuff you say lol. I HAVE watched the wimbledon 2008 final (and I... think?? must have watched it at the time, I was still pretty young and clearly it wasn't a defining enough experience it stuck in my mind lol) but it's been years by now. so I can't actually reallyyyy speak to its quality and I'm probably not going to rewatch it any time soon. I do also just think it's the most boring match-up tennis-wise... partly this is because my favourite big three playstyle is djokovic's - I love how he moves around the court, I love the compact backhand and the emphasis on counterpunching... the nadal/federer match-up was mostly defined by federer attempting to figure out ways to prevent nadal from bullying his backhand. which I do know is oversimplifying things lol but it's. kinda true. djokovic/federer is the best match-up tennis-wise even if it's a bit one-sided in the biggest moments (which, whatever, that was narratively engaging too)... federer's full artistry against djokovic's precision was just more exciting to watch. then comes djokovic/nadal which is a bit of a counterpuncher-off, like they are quite tactically similar in a lot of ways, extremely optimised baseliners... but that means they were always going to push each other the furthest - they were already half a step ahead of federer in the evolution of tennis and everyone now is obviously basing their tennis primarily on how they changed the game. and, y'know, nadal's biggest rival is djokovic!! I get why if you're a nadal fan, you'd want it to be federer, but well! tough!

and YES yes I ABSOLUTELY agree that federer/djokovic is the most interesting interpersonally because federer was SO arrogant towards djokovic. the worst thing that happened to federer is that he became a pr merchant, like at least being a cunt was INTERESTING. he used to be absolutely dreadful about murray too!! aggressively unpleasant!! but that one was also frustrating because... murray didn't end up surpassing him... (I genuinely have like. traumatic flashbacks to watching their atp finals 2014 match. I don't think my soul ever quite recovered from that day.) but with djokovic!! people used to be so unpleasant about him - and okay, by now unfortunately he's given everyone plenty of cause, but BACK THEN it was a completely different story. it was so much fun rooting for him when the crowds were being horrid to him and he stuck it in their faces... before he did all the boob throwing business - staring icily at them when he beat their hero? hot

and federer was so so snide about the guy... pepperidge farm remembers when he accused teenage djokovic of faking his injuries in 2006

The 19-year-old Djokovic called his trainer multiple times. He had hamstring issues, but Federer thought he was faking his injuries to disrupt Wawrinka’s rhythm. “I don’t trust his injuries. I’m serious. I think he’s a joke, you know, when it comes down to his injuries,” Federer said.

OR in 2009

Djokovic, the No. 3 seed, threw in the towel midway through the fourth set of his quarterfinal with Andy Roddick, trailing 6-7 (3), 6-4, 6-2, 2-1. But in pointed comments, Federer, the No. 2 seed, noted that it wasn't the first time Djokovic has withdrawn midway through a match in a Grand Slam. "He's not a guy who's never given up before ... it's disappointing," said Federer, who will face Roddick in the semifinals. "I've only done it once in my career ... Andy totally deserved to win that match." "I'm almost in favor of saying, you know what, if you're not fit enough, just get out of here," Federer added. "If Novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth. Thanks to Andy that he retired in the end. Andy pushed him to the limits. Hats off to Andy."

'if novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth' ...? what are you even saying

and like, on a moral level I do actually think this is pretty gross and have a massive bone to pick with federer on his whole 'look at me aren't I amazing for never retiring from a match' schtick, which continues to have lasting harmful consequences in this sport. this kind of record isn't heroic, it's just fucking stupid. but also, it's hardly the first time or the last time tennis players accused each other of playing up their injuries - it's very much part of the sport, we've all done it or at least thought it. I am also on the record as being pro beefing with children. and it's very strong set-up for that rivalry, especially given how bloody often djokovic went on to crush federer's spirit! it's better set-up than the payoff, quite frankly

that being said, perhaps my favourite match they played is us open 2011 semis - y'know, the match where djokovic saves two matchpoints in the fifth set en route to beating federer... oh, I suppose that doesn't completely narrow it down!!

ah well!

back to 2011, that match did lead to just some really strong snarking in the press:

Djokovic was honest enough to admit the shot was a gamble – but Federer was reluctant to give him credit even for that courage in a crisis, preferring to regard it as desperate. "Confidence? Are you kidding me?" he said when it was put to him the cross-court forehand off his first serve – described by John McEnroe as "one of the all-time great shots" – was either a function of luck or confidence. "I mean, please. Some players grow up and play like that – being down 5-2 in the third, and they all just start slapping shots. I never played that way. I believe hard work's going to pay off, because early on maybe I didn't always work at my hardest. For me, this is very hard to understand. How can you play a shot like that on match point? Maybe he's been doing it for 20 years, so for him it was very normal. You've got to ask him." Djokovic was in a more relaxed mood. "Yeah, I tend to do that on match points," he said, reminded that it was exactly what he did to Federer last year. "It kinda works."

IT KINDA WORKS jhgjhgjhgkf get him again from me

here's the matchpoint save in question ofc

youtube

"someday the little twins will grow up to hear about matches like this" well -

which, I mean, federer's being extremely annoying in press! 'oh I'm above taking risks when I'm down on the scoreboard' says the man who ended up with one hell of a reputation for choking. it's also silly!! sometimes it's worth taking a swing at it!! also psychologically, because you're making things less complicated for yourself!! in individual matches, you won't necessarily be rewarded for your diligence and hard work, just not how anything works you moron. but y'know, this was the REAL federer. by the following year he'd already completely clamped down on this kind of thing and it felt like really djokovic could have also been WAY more bitter about this stuff than he publicly was... but yeah, this I did enjoy

and yeah, I do kinda see the vale/jorge comparison! like you say, federer is kinda... more arrogant, more contemptuous towards his younger rivals, also just more of a sore loser until pr got to him? tennis is infamous for its frosty handshakes, but you compare some of those with how warm valentino generally was when he lost... federer's problem was that he lacked self-awareness and was just so committed to this image of the gentleman's sport, which is why he ended up shying away from all this stuff. the unpleasantness with djokovic was actually like... still fairly late in the game, all things considered, it wasn't even really like 2011!federer to say stuff like that. which does show djokovic was capable of really really getting under his skin! and on djokovic's end, where the jorge comparison very much applies is how much he wanted the people to love him (ik his fans hate this narrative but like,, obviously he did). and how they had all already decided he was the enemy for beating their beloved federer and nadal. I do find it a bit easier to stomach with valentino because he deliberately plays with this stuff, weaponising the crowd and all that, whereas federer and nadal just pretend like it's not happening. (also morally it might be worse to boo at a motogp event because of the danger they're putting themselves in, but practically booing at a tennis match is far far worse - you can actually influence the competitors in a way you obviously cannot in motogp.) but that WAS one of the most interesting storylines in the big three era... djokovic slowly catching these two greats who were always so far ahead of them, however much people didn't want him to, even though he didn't have the love of the people on his side, and eventually managing to surpass them altogether. I do think there's plenty of interesting stuff there!! good groundwork! it's just... nowhere near enough, given how bloody long these guys ended up dominating

on djokovic/murray - MY favourite combination of guys as well, just in terms of how much I actually like both of them. it's an interesting relationship where it's like... they knew each other quite well when they were young, then inevitably grew apart a bit when they were competing for big titles? obviously they were also born exactly a week apart from each other, which is narratively fun. I suppose it's the equivalent to jorge/dani which... actually wait, no, I realise that would assign nadal to casey and certainly not my god. it's a rivalry that's a bit tough to stomach from a murray fan perspective because... I mean, it's not quite 'this is not a rivalry, they always kick our ass' territory... but when I started following tennis as a kid, it felt completely plausible that murray and djokovic would have similarly successful careers. which obviously. did not happen. still remember that kind of controversial 2015 australian open final -

- and, y'know, it's a bit frustrating!! this was the tone of a lot of that era, where you kinda just wanted to take them all aside and tell them. my god. maybe a little bit of feuding is okay, no? but well, it is what it is, mostly they had a good relationship. 2016 was kinda the best of times and worst of times because murray was pouring his heart and soul into scraping all of his potential out of himself, got another slam, year end #1 etc... but it also probably did end up fucking up his body permanently, in the quest to fight djokovic. and there IS something compelling and sad about that, but yeah. still a bit of an old wound as an actual sports fan lol

and yeah, they're two closely related playstyles!! counterpunchers with particularly excellent backhands - and if a wing falters, then it's the forehand. it was lendl coaching murray and getting him to properly go after his forehand, be aggressive enough off that wing, that got him his biggest successes. djokovic's weaknesses are less pronounced and especially these last few years, he's often been lethal as a serve + 1 forehand merchant. roland garros 2023 is a good example of that... murray was the tactician, generally thought a lot on court and had a lot in his arsenal - ofc most famously his excellent lob. djokovic does also have more to his game than just baseline pushing, even if sometimes that involves just spamming dropshots when he feels uneasy. obviously, as can be seen from the slam count, his game ended up being just a bit better... but, well, these are very fine margins. murray's slam count is deceptive, he really was the one guy who could consistently hang with those three year-in year-out. whatever revisionism people try to do now, it really was a big four era

as for the coaching relationship, I'm very curious!! coaching can take a lot of different forms and sometimes there's a bit of a distinction between the... bread and butter coaching, the people who are working with you day to day, and these more high profile gigs where sometimes it really is just localised to specific tournaments. it's all very individualised, depends on the specific demands of the player - obviously, given where djokovic is at in his career, you won't be seeing particularly major adjustments, like murray isn't going to come in and suddenly suggest djokovic revamps his serve, right. (though sometimes players still tinker with this stuff late into careers, especially if they're managing injuries.) given the particular stresses of playing in a match, what an odd experience that is in its own right, sometimes you do just need someone to be observing you, give your game a critical once-over from a little bit of distance. now, admittedly from what I've seen of djokovic's coaching relationships, I do feel like one of the coach's roles in THAT particular camp is also just 'being yelled at continuously during matches'. which...? a little curious if djokovic has that same tone when murray's standing there lmao. also one of the reasons for the yelling is when djokovic feels like he's not getting enough enthusiasm from his box. which... ... uh. I mean. murray wouldn't have been top on MY list for that particular metric. but he can get passionate at davis cup from what I've seen!! so maybe it'll work out

anyway yeah I'll cut it off there lol. obviously I spent half my childhood thinking about tennis and inevitably that involved a lot of thinking about the big four and that means I have a lot of thoughts on them so. basically it's fedole > rafole > fedal as far as I'm concerned. good luck to djokovic/murray in their endeavours, I will be there no matter what

#i'm also SO ticked off at the Next Big Things in men's tennis that like. i'm not gonna do any big three revisionism #but i will say that even a swiss man generated more narrative tension than this lot. so that helps #also it's a bit of a pyrrhic victory with the big three where they have kinda managed to kill the part of me that cares #so now it's a bit. whatever. sure i'll celebrate your retirement but... you outlived my ability to feel something #also low key since my options in january are the djokovic/murray team up or some pasty ginger austrian... i'm rooting for novandy idc #//#racquet tag #kwisatzworld #batsplat responds #trust my head completely went when i saw the djokovic/murray coaching news. i didn't know i had that in me anymore #sleeper agent in me activated. i mean first of all the whole thing just reads like a fic prompt doesn't it #i WOULD be more of a djokovic fan if he weren't SO... you know. i know all these men suck but the vaccine stuff and genocide apologia....#my line with athletes is that if you don't tell me your terrible beliefs we're good. but please don't actively support harmful causes #really the off-court stuff cumulatively was why i soured on djokovic more than anything to do with the tennis

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starlightshadowsworld · 1 year ago

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Danganronpa 3: Despair Arc episode 1

Thonks.

I love the framing of zooming out of Chisa's death to her sat in a cinema.

Because it's back to the past my dudes.

The colour pallet and tonal shift from the first episode of the future arc is jarring.

Like end of the world, arresting Makoto, put into a death game.

And now, high school.

Glares at Jin Kirigiri Can't wait for you to blast off.

Chisa is what I imagine a fusion between Ishimaru and Makoto would be like.

The fact there's only 4 people who showed up and one is Fuyuhiko.

I see you mister too cool for school sat in the back of the class with your feet up.

You ain't slick.

Mahiru and Hiyoko talking, Sonia sat front and center all posied.

It's insane how just one frame of them sat in class before any words are spoken, perfectly sums them up.

Chisa not being fazed by any of this, love it.

I mean honestly even her saying she doubled down on health insurance before she took this job.

Makes sense.

Super high school level or not they're still high schoolers.

And getting into Hopes peak is the hard part, once your in your in.

Your set for life when you graduate.

And as Mahiru says as long as you pass your exams and keep up your talent your good.

Why would you bother attending regular classes if that's the case.

Oh Mikan, your poor sweet child, get up.

The maid apron, guess shits going down. Ohh you're gonna show up to class, whether you wanna or not.

... I didn't need the very descriptive image of a mouldy orange but I get it.

Sonia matching Chisa's energy, yess.

Fuyuhiko tried to deny the power of friendship.

He loses.

Now I dunno if pulling a blade on a student, stabbing his table and look very much like you'll stab his hand... is the best idea.

But she spoke his language and for it got his respect.

Which I'm glad because as fun as asshole Fuyuhiko is, I like when he's friendly.

Also given the erm... Shit going on in this school, I don't think they can say much.

Just be glad Peko isn't here.

Why are we in the mens bathroo-...oh wait, Nekomaru.

Nevermind.

Nope, that's Sonia.

And the blood is pink here.

... Wish I didn't have to get that information from Teruteru having a nosebleed over Sonia ordering meat.

Sigh

I'm glad Chisa ties him up but knowing him he'd like it.

Annnd he does.

Idk if he flirts with guys in the game, but apparently Teruteru loves all.

... Way to much and way too intensely.

Stay classy, Teruteru.

Akane being spiderman, wasn't what I was expecting but here we are.

And if course they need Teruteru to cook to get Akane.

Smart.

Sonia is just getting all the pervs to go to class.

I don't care what anyone says, Gundam is so cool.

The animal shed looks like some kind of temple, torches are lit and he's standing above.

And there's giant statues of the 4 dark devas of destruction.

The bat's that signal his arrival.

"Speak the name of evil and it shall appear. You gaze upon Tanaka the forbidden one."

Gives a speech about destroying this corrupted planet.

👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼Now that, is how you make an entrance.

Ibuki's guitar being part flame thrower just makes sense.

Peko just apologising and going, makes sense.

Idk why Fuyuhiko is suprised about Peko's job. Is it a secret they're in the Yakuza?

I mean he was scouted because of it right? Idk maybe I'm missing something.

Did... Soda just get hit by a truck?.

Oh I get it, Nagito went to get a drink and now he's gonna end up with a Soda.

Slow claps

... Nevermind the truck broke the machine and he gets all the drinks.

Great show of his talent, he had bad luck and than immediately got good luck.

The four dark devas with teeny lil brushes is so cute.

... Wait so Ryota was apart of this class?

I thought he was gonna end up being Imposter but, huh... Interesting.

Because he's preseumbly the only one who didn't become a Remnant?

And he and Chisa got out.

Hajime!!!

Hears his thoughts of people insulting him.

Hajime 🥺

Chiaki!

... Wait wasn't Chiaki just programme in the simulator? She wasn't real like the others were.

So this mean that she actually existed.

... Oh... That's not good.

I know Hajime isn't apart of the 77th class, he's a reserve course student.

But man it feels werid seeing them without him.

And he's already got those negative thoughts about himself and his lack of talent.

At least Chiaki seems like she's gonna be a friend to him, especially from what we know from the game.

... But that wasn't really her but based on her.

... Hmmm....

Wasn't expecting Hajime to be from a rich family but I guess it makes sense.

Reserve course or not, Hope's Peak is one of the most prestigious schools.

The fact they have a uniform and the Ultimate don't, immediately putting them in their own category.

I find it interesting how Makoto is now seen as lower than everyone else.

Everyone who's an Ultimate while they wonder if he even deserves his title.

And he's wearing a suite identical to Hajime's.

A symbol of the reserve course, of people the talented see as beneath them.

Chiaki offering a unique outlook, the outlook I know Hajime won't accept.

Given... Yeah.

That you have the freedom we don't, you have the ability to do what you want while I just have a pile of video games.

Similiar to how Leon dedpite his talent for baseball wanted to be a musician.

"Let's put something else first, our hope."

Nagito: Hope

Me:... Oh no.

I mean now your speaking his language.

Chisa knows Munakata already?

I wonder if they went to school together than?

Also Munakata your hair looks so much better here.

What happened man?

Oh they definitely know each other.

So Chisa, Munakata and Juzo the guy who best Makoto all went to school together.

... And now we're going back to the present where she's just been killed infront of them...

Oh boy

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hypnolurker · 2 years ago

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Silly Bunny

ORIGINAL IMAGE HERE

"Please you have to help me! I just escaped from the club down the street, there’s something really messed up going on there. I just took a job there to make some quick cash. I was just meant to serve drinks, the bunny ears and revealing outfit were a bit embarrassing but they just insisted that’s their dress code...and it was good money so I went with it. But they were doing something to me...to all of us." The distraught bunny girl begged to the first person she had found upon getting what she felt was a safe distance from the dreaded club.

While her voice sounded terrified, her body swayed and wriggled softly, as if full of restless energy. Her hips rolled in am oddly sensual way and her idle hands seemed unable to stray too far from her voluptuous chest.

"I swear I'm not crazy! This is gonna sound insane I know but hear me out. They're hypnotizing people! They brainwashed us into being compliant, docile bunny girls. I don’t know exactly how it works but I experienced it first hand. I'm not a slut or anything, but within a few days of working there the customers would reach out and rub my ass or tits through my uniform and I just accepted it like it was completely normal. God I don’t know why I did that, I want to slap those perverts so badly."

The bunny continued her story, her expression oddly failing to match her words. As she spoke with anger and desperation, her face never managed to show an ounce of disgust or fear or hatred. Quite the opposite, her eyes were soft and pleading and she would pucker her lips or gently bite her lower lip between sentences as if trying to seduce her would-be saviour. Her hands continued to move anxiously near her chest, tugging at her clothes and generally drawing attention away from her face and towards her ample chest.

"I was just supposed to serve drinks, but they made us dance, and kiss each other and...and shake our asses to show off these stupid cotton tail butt plugs they had us wear and..."

Suddenly the strained material that she was absentmindedly tugging gave way and her breasts burst out as if eager to escape.

"Dammit! Silly bunny!" She said instinctively, before her eyes glazed over and her lips quivered. There was a long pause before the man responded.

"Um, silly bunny?" He said, finding the phrase itself and her reaction to it both quite odd.

"Silly bunny." She repeated. But the voice that said it wasn't quite the same. It was slow and calm. Like all sense of urgency that had previously filled her voice had simply fallen away. The bunny girl stared blankly forward for another long moment before her lips began to move.

For a few seconds she simply moved her lips, silently mouthing her words. Finally her voice returned, though much softer and weaker than before, and a little higher in pitch also, as she continued. "That's...that's what they make us say. Every day when we get changed into our costumes. Every time we drop a drink or forget someone's order. I was clumsy or anything but when I worked there I seemed to make so many mistakes. Not even usual mistakes...I would bend over to pick something up and just...forget to stand back up. Or a guy would be talking to me and I would just glance down at his crotch and think about what his cock looked like...what it tastes like...while my mouth would hang open drooling and I completely missed what he said. God I felt like such a pathetic slut. And every time it happened they would say 'silly bunny'..."

The bunny trailed off again. Her breasts were still exposed and she was mindlessly playing with them as she tried to regain her train of thought.

"Uh...where was I?" She asked meekly, her eyes still slightly glassy.

"You were talking about the club. How they make you say silly bunny whenever you embarrass yourself." The man reminded her.

"Silly bunny." She parroted dimly.

"Yes, silly bunny." He said with a smile.

"I'm a silly bunny." She said, her voice more sultry now. She bit her lip again as she thrust her chest forward and her hips wriggled eagerly.

"So it would seem. What else did they make you say?" He asked, enjoying the show as the bunny played with its tits right there in front of him.

"Um...I have a bunny brain." She said, her eyelids fluttering as if she just had a small orgasm.

"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" She continued, turning around as she did so and bending over to wiggle her ass and flash her cute tail in the process. She kept wiggling her ass for some time, almost inviting him to reach out and grab a fistful of her tender flesh. When she finally finished she spun back around, now with a bright and bubbly grin across her face as her voice grew higher pitched and more excited with every phrase.

"Bunnies love to bounce!" She said with a giggle as she began jumping up and down on the spot, her massive tits flopping and jiggling distractingly as she did so.

At this point the man's erection was very prominent and the ditzy bunny was bouncing up and down with glee. Any trace of fear had disappeared from her voice and her mind truly felt fluffy and soft and light like a little cotton tail.

He reached out and groped her chest brazenly, muttering "silly bunny."

"I'm a silly bunny!" She responded with joy, squirming and bouncing on the spot. She closed her eyes in glee and groaned as he kneaded her supple chest. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze drifted southward quickly.

"Bunnies love to bounce right? I have something you can bounce on." He winked as he pulled the ditzy bunny closer.

"Bunnies love to bounce!" She repeated as he pushed the material of her costume aside and easily slipped his throbbing cock inside her drippy bunny hole.

She immediately began bouncing on his fat cock and moaning as she repeated her mantras over and over.

"I have a bunny brain!" The bunny shouted with glee as she milked his cock expertly. She spoke so loudly that a man in a suit who was anxiously placing nearby heard it and breathed a sigh of relief.

"My head is as fluffy as my tail!" The bunny cried as cum pumped inside her sloppy slit.

She didn't resist when the club security guard grabbed her firmly. Cum still dribbling down her legs.

"I'm so sorry for any inconvenience our employee may have caused you sir. This little incident could cause us a lot of trouble. You understand I'm sure, so in return for your cooperation in keeping this business secret, I can offer you unlimited free drinks and *other services* at our fine establishment." He told the man, whose cock was still hanging out of his pants.

"That seems like a good deal. I'll be sure to visit soon." He accepted with a nod as the guard threw the leaky bunny over his shoulder and quickly rushed to his car. A trail of cum and arousal dribbled down his suit and he sighed. "Silly bunny."

i HAD reblogged this one but i accidentally deleted my reblog when i was adding the image. here it is again.

#mindbrokensluts #not mine #Reconstruction #story

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blackhakumen · 2 years ago

Text

Mini Fanfic #1084: Training Day (Kingdom Hearts)

1:20 p.m. Outside of the Land of Departure: Training Field........

NAMINE......ANGELIC.....SMASH!

'SMASH'

With one, fairly powerful punch from Namine of all people, a stand-in punching bag is seen getting forcefully pushed all the way to the other side of the field l before falling down to the ground as smoke is coming out of the imprinted fist mark she left begin, much to boys' surprise (and mostly dread in Ventus' case).

Chihirty: Amazing..... (Turns to Namine) The force of your punches are getting more stronger by the minute.

Namine: (Has Her Hands on her Knees Before Swiping the Sweat Off With her Arm) ('Whew') And it shows....(Holds her Fist Up as She Place her Hand on Top of her Arm Muscle With a Proud Smile on her Face) Which means my training with Ms. Lockhart is starting to pay off at last!~

Chirithy: You wanna give it another go? I'm liking the name of the punch you gave so far.

Namine: (Smiles Brightly) Thank you so much, ChiChi. And yeah, let's go!~

Ventus: (Eyes Widened as He Watches Namine and Chihirty in the Distance While Sitting Next to Vantias Under a Shade) This is insane......

Vantias: Insane how Namine's strong enough send anything flying or the name of her attack sounds almost as Intimidating as "Final Heaven"?

Ventus: (Turns to Vantias With a Panicked Look on his Face) Yes, on both fronts! Like, I know that she determined to be as strong as her teacher and I'm really proud of her for coming this far with her combat training, but I didn't think she would get THIS powerful! And I STILL don't know how that Final Heaven move of hers works to begin with! Like, does it really take a lot energy and willpower to pull the move off or does she uses both of her fists as ticking time bombs whenever she's in battle?

Vantias: Hey, your guess is as mines. All I know that I am passing up any offer sparring against Little Miss Angel Girl over there.

Ventus: Why? (Gives Vantias a Sly Smirk on his Face) You scared she's gonna sucker punch you again like last time?

Flashback

Years ago after the war between light and darkness has reached it conclusion, Vantias, who somehow revived as well at the time, tries to infiltrate the Land of Departure before getting caught red handed by Sora and the gang (minus Riku, Isa, Aqua, and Terra) shortly after.

He was able to take them all on effortlessly, thanks to his sneaky use of the little power darkness he has at the time and a few capoeira tricks he learned from a street performer he saw the night before.

It wasn't long until he stumbled upon Namine who panicked and screamed out the word "STOP IT YOU JERRRRRRRRK!" as she sucker punched Vantias straight into the jaw hard enough to send him flying from across the room, leaving him unconscious until the crew ties him up and interrogate him.

It was at this moment that Vantias decided to never cross Namine again....as well as finding ways to avoid sparring with her at all cost.

End of Flashback

Vantias: ('Scoffs') As if. I just don't think it'll be a fair match up is all.

Ventus: For you or her? Cuz something tells me that it might definitely be the former.

Vantias: Yeah, well, whatever told you that clearly doesn't know jack shit about how fair match-up works. (Starts Smirking Back at Ventus) Unless you wanna step in the sparring ring yourself.

Ventus: (Glares at Vantias) And get sent flying off to the distance? No way!

Vantias: Oh don't be such a wuss. You could dodge her punches easily if you actually put that feet of yours to good use.

Ventus: I can say the same for you too, emo boy. Or did your break dancing routine is starting to lose steam.

Vantias: Okay, first off, I do capoeira, there's a different I think. And second, just because I'm making a cautious move in not fighting her, that doesn't automatically make me weak. Especially when I can kick your ass just fine.

Ventus: (Immediately Gets Up From Where He Was Sitting) Get real! Have you forgotten our fight at the Keyblade Graveyard!?

Vantias: (Rolls his Eyes) Oh yeah. How could I ever forget the time you pulled a cheap shot at the Near end of the battle?

Ventus: Cheap sho- I beaten you fair and square! If anything, YOU'RE the one who keep relying on your dark power to give you the edge on almost every fight you got yourself into!

Vantias: And that's a problem because.......

Ventus: What do you think!? That, in of itself, is cheating!

Vantias: Subjectively speaking.

Ventus: THAT'S NOT EVEN- (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) You know what? Forget it. You can use darkness, capoeira or whatever you call it, all you want. (Crosses his Arms and Turns Away) Just know that I've beaten you once and I'll be more than happy to do it again!

Vantias: (Slowly Starts Getting Up in Front of Ventus) Is that a challenge request I'm hearing right now?

Ventus: Maybe. And I won't opposed if you accept either. (Turns Back to Vantias) Just don't be too surprised if you end up put to sleep on the ground, cheater.

Vantias: (Puts on a Competitive yet Malicious Grin on his Face as He Summons his Keyblade) I like to see you try and land a hit on me, airbag....

Ventus: (Summons his Keyblade as Well) Glady......

Meanwhile.......

Chirithy: (Helps Namine Takes the Punching Bag Back to It's Original Spot) So how exactly did you came up with the name for that move of yours in the first place?

Namine: Oh it's simple really. One night, when I was in the middle of drawing a fee sketches, I-

Two vicious battle cries simultaneously rings into Namine and Chihirty's eardrums as the two set their attention on Ventus and Vantias fighting one another using their Keyblades in the far distance.

Chirithy: Well, would you look at that? And here I thought those two lazy bones were never gonna train today.

Namine: They look so determined to out best one another. (Places her Hands on Both of her Cheeks While Letting Out a Gasps) Has my hard work managed to inspired them to train themselves?~

Chirithy: Preeeeeetty sure they were arguing again as usual..... (Starts Pouting) I bet it was Van-Van who started it!

Namine: ('Sigh') I'll have a talk with those two later.....(Turns to Chihirty Woth a Determined Smile on her Face) In the meantime, let's resume back to training ourselves. There's so many new techniques I can't wait to try out!~

Chirithy: (Sighs While Shrugging) If you say so.....

@keyenuta

@26shann

@khtext

@cyber-wildcat

@bestpony666

@ma-lemons

#kingdom hearts #namine #ventus #vantias #chirithy #tifa (mentioned)#tifa is namine's mentor #humor #training

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toxin-trails · 3 months ago

Text

Myyrin watched Itto as he spoke, his casual tone shifting into something more serious. Despite the lightness in his earlier demeanor, there was no mistaking the concern underlying his words. His bluntness took her aback for a moment, and though she kept her expression neutral, inwardly she found herself appreciating it. His straightforwardness wasn’t something she often encountered, especially in Inazuma, where so many people danced around the truth with politeness. He’s direct, she thought, but not cruel.

The attitude she gave him? That wasn’t just her being difficult for the sake of it—it was her defense mechanism. She could feel the urge to snap back at him, the same defense mechanism she always used when people got too close. It was a habit she’d honed over the years—push people away before they had a chance to disappoint her. She’d used the same guarded sass with Lord Kamisato, though it didn’t seem to faze the Yashiro Commissioner any more than it did this Oni. Some people were harder to push away than others, and it seemed Inazumans like Itto and Ayato had a knack for seeing through the front she put up. Keeping people at a distance was how she stayed in control. It was easier to keep everyone out, easier not to care when people didn’t try to break through. They met her fire with either understanding or, in Itto’s case, with a fire of their own. But still—his warning struck a chord. She had no illusions about the dangers of these islands. The ley lines themselves on the island were off and although most people knew her as an apothecary, only a select few knew that she was also an alchemist.

She let out a soft breath, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction as she responded. “I get it. And I appreciate the heads up. I do.” The edge in her voice softened, though her guarded tone remained. “I promised that Archon, Belial… I’m working on a potion that should reduce the effects of the Balethunder. You know, mitigate some of the worst of it, at least temporarily. Besides, there’s more going on here than just cursed energy.”

"Might take a few more experiments, but I’ve made progress. Not to mention, with all the trade reopening between Sumeru and Inazuma, there’s a whole new set of problems coming this way, and no one’s talking about that.” Myyrin glanced at him, gauging his reaction before continuing. “Species from Sumeru have started making their way into Inazuma—some of them invasive. Scarabs from the desert are already messing up the food chain. They’re consuming the same plants that the local Onikabuto rely on. And that’s just one of the species that have made it here among several. Sooner or later, it’s going to throw the ecosystem out of balance.” She let out a soft breath, shaking her head slightly.

She let her eyes drift over the landscape, the barren, uneasy feel of the land not lost on her. This place was dangerous—she knew that much—but that wasn’t enough to stop her from pursuing what she felt needed to be done. Besides, she thought, if I do not do this, no one will because no one is insane enough to subject themselves to this.

She glanced back at him, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though her usual guarded demeanor slipped back into place. “Look, I know I’m playing a risky game here. But it’s not like anyone’s going to miss me if I’m gone.” a joke layered over the truth of her isolation. She gave a half-shrug, as if to brush the topic aside, her blue eyes sharp again as her defenses clicked back into place. "People like me don’t get memorials. We just fade away." If I get cursed or worse, it’ll be my fault. Her words were laced with a lightness that didn’t quite match the truth behind them, but she wasn’t about to let that show. Not yet, anyway.

Myyrin took a deep breath, wiping off the beads of sweat that had formed on her brow during the fight. As Itto spoke, she couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly as he offered his help. His tone, though light-hearted, held a genuine concern that she didn’t often hear—especially from a man of his size, who looked more like he could level a mountain than worry about the safety of someone he’d just met.

After a moment, she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes before flashing him a sly smile. "Aya- Lord Kamisato was right about you, Itto," she said, voice teasing but warm. "He said you were kind and that you worry about just about anyone who crosses your path, even a random stranger like me." Myyrin tossed her blades into the air with a flourish before sliding them smoothly back into their sheaths, the Sumerian steel gleaming for just a second longer.

She stretched her arms, feeling the tension from the battle ease, before continuing, "You’re not the first person to give me the ‘you shouldn’t be here’ speech, though. I was on Yashiori Island not long ago, and some Archon named Belial—" she waved a hand dismissively, as if even the memory of the encounter bored her—"came to me through some fancy electro construct shaped like a snake and said the same thing." She mimicked the Archon’s voice with a mock-serious tone, "Something about a curse, wards, and blah, blah, blah."

"Look," she said, her tone shifting to something more grounded, "I’m not worried about whatever danger lingers in these places. Tatarigami energy, curses, or whatever it is—I’ve been warned plenty. But if something happens, it’ll be my own fault. And I’m okay with that." She shrugged, the weight of her own decisions resting comfortably on her shoulders. "We all have our risks, right? I’ve made peace with mine."

She shot him a glance, her blue eyes sharp but softened with amusement. "So, thanks for the concern, but I’m not exactly the damsel in distress type. If anything, you should be more worried about those Kairagi getting back up." A grin tugged at her lips as she playfully gestured to the downed men still groaning in the dirt. "The paralytic laced on my blade is quite potent... But I am sure they'll survive."

#👀 is that toxic?#🌿 how can i help?

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harryspet · 4 years ago

Text

caged bird | s.rogers, p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!peter parker x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, polyamory, prison au, noncon/dubcon sex, this plot scenario is very unrealistic but oh well, reader makes a deal so she can survive, hella manipulation, dominants/submissive, oral sex (male recieving), hella angst, shower sex, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: this is like a really f’d up situation so enjoy :):):) i also wrote this over the span of two weeks so i’m sorry if the pacing is weird and (also x2) this is nowhere near canon

In which you have to make a deal with three devils in order to survive in The Cage.

word count: 4.8k

main masterlist

Your eyelids were heavy though the bright light outside the bus was forcing you awake. Your limbs shackled to the seat, it reminded you that you had lost your freedom so quickly and that you’d probably never have a good night of sleep ever again, “How long?” Your mouth was dry, the heat from the wasteland you were driving through crept through the window.

“Twenty minutes, princess,” Officer Rumlow looked you over for the millionth time like you were fresh meat ready for the slaughter. His perceptions weren’t far off and that’s what scared you the most. You weren’t cut out for a place like the Cage.

A week ago you thought this place was fictional, a nightmare tale that was used to scare the new employees. It was still a nightmare but you were now living in it. You thought your heart might explode out of your chest as the facility finally came into view. Five stories of complete concrete surrounded by two, hundred-foot fences and surrounded by a barren wasteland.

You were the only one on the bus. The Cage rarely received new inmates due to the nature of crimes that the prison was built for. Vigilantes and government traitors. Many used to consider them heroes but they were unregulated and dangerous. That's how they ended up here and, your boss, Alexander Pierce had sold you out to save himself.

“When … W-When am I going to get my phone call?” You asked as the bus entered the gates of the prison, finally stopping at the processing center.

Rumlow chuckled, walking over to unchain your shackles from the floor of the bus, “Who are you going to call, princess? Mommy and Daddy?” He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you out of your seat and dragging you down the steps of the bus.

You refused to accept that you had been erased. Your parents probably thought you were only missing, not that you had been wrongly accused of betraying the government and had been thrown into the most dangerous prison in the country.

“They can’t do this,” You winced as your arm stung, “No trial. No jury. T-This is illegal!”

Rumlow ignored you, and you had to pick up your pace in order to not fall down. Your eyes wandered around, the sun nearly blinding you and stinging your skin at the same time. You noticed in the distance a group of male inmates standing behind a wired fence, wearing the same navy jumpsuit as you, and even from far away, you could see cold and hungry glances.

You thought you were lucky for a minute since you were a woman but then you remembered what kind of women probably lived here. As you were brought inside, past several guards, through metal detectors and pat-downs.

When you got to the body cavity search, you expected to part way with Rumlow. Standing in a small, cold room, Rumlow stood in the doorway with his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, “Undress, inmate,” Your eyes widened and you quickly crossed your arms, “Slowly, if you don’t mind.”

“I-I do mind,” You said quickly, “I’m supposed to have a female officer-”

“You don’t get those kinds of privileges in the Cage. We don’t separate inmates by gender,” You shook your head as your eyebrows began to furrow.

“That’s insane-”

“Undress, inmate,” He said more sternly this time, “Or would you like me to do it for you? You’re lucky I don’t make you put on a show for the rest of the guards.”

You shook your head again, tears starting to form in your tired eyes, “Please don’t-” You tried to plead with him but, as you did, you watched him reach for his baton, “Okay, okay!”

Rumlow smiled a wicked smile, “Good. Bend over and cough, inmate. Let me see that cute, little ass of yours.”

When you finally got to see a female officer, she was escorting you to your cell. In your hands, you held the rest of your life which included one more set of clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. You had to eat what the prison provided and you could only earn extra commissary from working. Hela tried to explain everything to you but you were only latching onto every other world.

You walked along a slim passageway which had cells to the right and a metal railing to the left. There were three floors of cells and they seemed to go all the way around in a circle. Passed the railing and in the middle of the dome was where it seemed most of the inmates were gathered.

The shouting, laughing, and fighting echoed through the dome and you couldn’t help but think those calls were for you. You could barely carry your bag of things and walk straight without stumbling. If they couldn’t send your weakness from your appearance then they’d surely sniff it out soon.

“This can’t be allowed,” You whispered to Officer Hela, though her dark hair mixed with the look of death in her eyes didn’t scream “empathy” to you, “There has to be some sort of rule-”

She stopped in front of an empty, six by eight-foot cell which told you that this would be your new home, “You can sit in solitary if you like,” She spoke coldly, “Your meals get brought to you and you don’t have to deal with the animals in here but there’s no time outside. It’s easy to lose track of the days and forget which voices are real and which ones are inside your head. If you prefer to go insane before you die then I’d recommend that route.”

There wasn’t much of a choice to make and you found your feet moving before your brain could register. You stepped inside the cell, setting down your things on the bottom bunk, “A girl like you is going to need to latch onto a group, pledge your allegiance, and do not let them question your loyalty. They live by a different code here and following it is life or death, do you understand?”

You slowly nodded as you listened and part of you was grateful that she wasn’t completely cold, “T-Thank you-”

She scoffed, “Such a precious little thing … I give you a week,” With that, she turned on her heel and you felt hopeless once again, “I’ll escort you to dinner-”

You shook your head, “I’m not hungry.” You were actually starving but you could not yet face the beast.

She only shrugged and pulled the door closed. The light above you flickered and you stared back down at your bunk. You were holding back your tears as you tried to make up your bed. Staring at the flimsy mattress material only made you more depressed so you decided just to lay down. Facing the wall, your tired eyes roamed over what was scribbled on the walls.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is corrupt.

You hated that the words initially sent a wave of anger through you. You hated that you still felt loyal to that group of monsters. You were a low level worker with good standing and they had just sent you to die?

With your face tucked into your arm, you cried yourself to sleep.

The next day you had no choice but to face your fears. You couldn’t go any longer without food and, in a place like this, you needed to keep your energy up. Before the sun was even out, you heard the mechanical click of the cell door. Your favorite officer, Rumlow, made sure to stop by your cell during roll call.

“So you decided on general population,” He popped the gum he was chewing, looking you over, “I’m sad to hear it, I was gonna visit you every day in solitary but I guess we’ll get some alone time soon enough.”

You scowled at him and a shiver went through you as he continued pass your cell. You were now grateful that you had chosen general population.

That feeling didn’t last as inmates started moving from their cells down to breakfast. You stayed back, waiting to slip out of your cell when the crowd had passed. You lingered in the back of the line but no one seemed to notice you until you were in the kitchen line. The first reaction was a quiet murmur that went through the group of (mostly) men at the sight of you.

You didn’t quite match anyone's stature, not even the women. At least they looked like they could take care of themselves. You were sure that your face probably had dark circles and sunken in features. You looked down when you felt someone's eyes on you and you cringed at every word whispered about you.

“If I could just get my hands on her …”

“I wonder what a little girl like that could’ve done to get in here.”

“I’d be real gentle with her …” “I wouldn’t … I’d make her scream …”

“Move along,” Hela barked at the inmates in the line. You tried to tune them out as a staff member handed you your tray of food. A stale piece of toast, plastic-looking eggs, peaches, and what looked like could be oatmeal.

It was when you turned away that you felt a pinch on your bottom. You turned around quickly only to find yourself staring at a chest rather than a face. As you looked up, a man with long, dark black hair stared down at you, “Aren’t you adorable?”

“I said move along, inmates,” You looked towards Hela for some sort of help but didn’t receive any.

When you looked back again, the man had disappeared. You shook it off, figuring that was the least of what you were about to experience today. As you stepped out into the middle of the dome, you remembered the advice that Hela had managed to give you.

There were cliques formed at each circular, metal table and you looked each one over as you walked past them. Again, people stared and said vile things but you spotted a table where two women were sitting. They were much older than you but the look you got from them was not maternal in the least.

“Can I… sit here?” You knew the answer based on their thin-lipped scowls.

You weren’t like any of them … you were fragile. Besides that, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the organization was responsible for locking half of these people away. You kept walking, eventually finding an empty table to sit at.

All you could think about now was eating. You picked at your tray with your plastic fork, and with each bite of the food you cringed. The toast was also completely rock hard, “It helps if you dip it in water,” Your head snapped up as you felt a shadow over you before someone took a seat beside you.

You weren’t expecting someone so young and you certainly weren’t expecting a friendly smile. You stared at the handsome man with your mouth agape. You hadn’t realized what he meant until you looked back down at the bread in your hands, “Oh … I doubt anything would make this edible-”

He ran his hand through his light brown hair, before reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit. On the table in front of you, he placed a twinkie. The entire room seemed to go quiet for a moment and you realized that everyone was watching the two of you.

“I can’t accept this …”

“Of course you can, it’s no big deal,” His brown eyes pierced into yours as he shrugged, “I’m Peter.”

The sugary, process food was calling your name but you still weren’t sure what his deal was, “T-Thank you,” Not wanting to come off rude, you accepted it, unknowingly beginning to seal your fate, “I’m … I’m-”

“Y/N Y/LN,” He finished for you which left your eyes wide with shock, “You’re already famous. The guards like to gossip and it’s rare we get new inmates so people get curious.”

“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Don’t worry, some people in here care about your charges, how you got here, but not me,” He tried to reassure you, a smile tugging at his lips, “S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed us all and I don’t think there’s a point in playing who’s the better bad guy.”

You looked around. Now that you knew that people knew your charges and your history, you were starting to feel unsettled. The only thing keeping you grounded was him reassuring you that he didn’t care, “How long-” Your voice came out in a whisper, “How long have you been here?”

Peter took a breath as he thought for a moment, “Few years. Now I kinda forget that I was a normal teenager when this all started.”

Years. And he was a teenager when they brought him here? Did they have no limits to their cruelty?

“God,” You breathed out, overwhelmed, “I don’t think I can … do this-”

Peter reached out, placing a calm hand on your arm, “Hey, hey, you have to survive here. Whether you were meant to be here or not, you have to live like this is your reality. Looking like you’re about to vomit is not a good look to everyone else. I saw Loki over there … he’s an asshole touching you like that but it’s because he’s already sniffed you out.”

You nodded, trying to stay calm, “But I don’t know how to look … to look less weak.”

“For one, you’re going to have to start eating more and building some muscle,” You could tell by his grip on your arm that he was quite strong, “And the next time someone disrespects you, you have to stand up for yourself. You also can’t just bark like a little chihuahua. Maybe you could pick someone out, someone that you could win in a fight against.”

As Peter started to scan the room, you immediately started shaking your hand, “I can’t just attack someone,” You whisper-shouted, your eyes wide with worry.

Peter chuckled, “Not with that attitude. Maybe you could go for Heather over there,” He eyed a woman who was practically elderly, “She has a cane so even you could probably overpower though I’ve seen here use the thing as a weapon a few times-”

“Peter,” You spoke sharply, “There has to be another way.”

Peter looked into your eyes and you lost hope for a moment until he seemed to perk up, “I have some friends, we kind of run together in this place, looking out for each other,” Peter explained and you listened intently, hoping for a means of survival that didn’t require attacking an old lady, “I could probably convince them to start looking out for you too. But it won’t be easy, we take loyalty very seriously here, and it wouldn’t be without a cost to you.”

“What sort of cost?”

Peter shrugged, “Could be lots of things. They serve plums on Friday and Bucky loves those so maybe you’d show your support to the group by giving him yours. Something like that,” You followed Peter’s finger as he pointed two men out, one with dark hair and the other with light. Both were built like bodybuilders, “Steve’s a respected leader here and maybe you could help run messages for him.”

You nodded, “T-That sounds fair,” You paused for a moment as the men eyed you, “And for the twinkie? What do you want?”

“Now you’re starting to get it,” Peter grinned, “Eat it and that means you accept our claim. You’re one of us.”

“Can’t I have time to think about it?”

Peter seemed to hesitate for the first time, “I’m sure you won’t get a better offer,” Your face fell, “But sure. I’d be quick about it though. Those big, doe eyes aren’t going to work on everybody.”

The dark-haired one was following you. Loki, Peter called him, hadn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you parted ways with Peter yesterday. He and his greek god, blonde friend were now walking behind you as you made your way through the halls. They were pushing mop buckets, evidently taking a break from their cleaning duty.

You had gotten lost trying to find the hospital wing and now you were paying the consequences.

“Little bird … caged and unprotected,” He taunted you and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to keep from looking back, “Not even the guards want to save her. Poor thing.”

“It seems she’s in need of protecting, brother.”

“Protecting? If I got my hands on her, the last thing I’d think of is being gentle-”

You turned into the first room you passed, expecting to find somewhere to hide but you only seemed to encounter more people. It was the TV room, a staticy old television airing a baseball game was hanging in the corner of the room, and a bunch of men were sitting at different tables.

They all turned their heads to you as you interrupted and you immediately recognized the two men from Peter’s loyal “group”. Bucky and Steve. Your heart was out of your chest at the point and you found yourself whispering a “sorry” before turning back towards the door. Loki and his brother, however, were waiting patiently.

Loki leaned in the doorway, eyeing you like you were fresh meat.

“Is this jackass bothering you, hon?” Your eyes wide with fear, you quickly realized that it wasn’t Loki taunting you. The dark-haired man’s, you remembered Peter calling him Bucky, voice boomed through the room.

You froze.

“Don’t you have toilets to scrub, Laufeyson?” The light hair man with a thick beard spoke, and by the look on his face you could tell he was a man of power. Not so much power-hungry but someone that demanded respect and often received it.

Loki scoffed, looking over you again, “As far as I know, this one is free territory.”

“Well, this room is my territory and guess where she happens to be standing,” Loki’s jaw clenched at Steve’s words.

“C’mere, hon,” Bucky spoke to you, signaling to cross the room. She hesitated but only for a moment as you realized your choices were Peter’s friends or letting Loki, have you. You crossed the room cautiously towards them, everyone now looking at you. You paused awkwardly in front of the table but a small yelp left your lip as Bucky grabbed you by the arm, spinning you into his lap.

“See,” Steve said as you uncomfortably tried your best not to squirm, “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, Laufeyson.”

You felt a hand clench your thigh and cringed.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

As soon as Loki stormed away, you stood up, brushing whatever wrinkles had formed in your jumpsuit. Amused, Bucky smiled at you, “You could at least thank us,” Bucky leaned forward and you tried not to scowl.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked.

“Lang, get Y/N a chair,” Steve ordered another man in the room. He was quick to obey the command and, even though you were in a new place, you felt you’d been transported into an entirely new planet.

“You don’t have to-”

“Sit,” Steve said as the chair was placed beside you, “You can leave when you give us an answer to the offer Peter mentioned yesterday.”

You had thought long and hard about Peter’s offer and decided last night that you wanted to reject it. It wasn’t until now that you realized your decision was a mistake. There was no telling when you’d be getting out of this place, Peter had been here for years, and it seemed you were already a target.

You’d even heard a rumor that the guards placed bets on how long you’d survive in here.

“Yes …” You nodded your head, “That’s my answer.”

Steve's lips pulled into a small grin as he eyed his friend across the table, “Good choice, doll.”

A week later and you were still alive and relatively untouched. Bucky was quite handsy but Peter reminded you that it was just protocol. Everyone had to know that you were a part of their group and that, if you were harmed, they’d have to deal with Steve and his minions.

Like Peter said, there were quite a few sacrifices you had to make. Your new job in the kitchen allowed you to provide the group with all the food they wanted and when you weren’t working, you were running errands for Steve. You got an idea of all the inmate leaders and how they functioned as a society.

Steve seemed to be at the very top and you realized the possible consequences of crossing someone like him. Still, you felt more pampered than like you were a part of some elaborate prison gang. Most of your wishes were theirs to grant.

They let you watch whatever you wanted in the TV room. Bucky always called you pet names that you were starting to grow fond of. Steve had some pull with the guards so Rumlow was never around to bother you anymore. Peter even found you a set of paints to occupy your time in your cell. As long as you followed them around like their cute little puppy, they were quite nice to you.

“C’mon, run a lap with me. You gotta build your strength,” Peter asked you, his face sweaty and shining under the baking sun. He was shirtless, the shirtsleeves of his uniform wrapped around his waist, and his magnificent physique was on display just like Steve and Bucky’s. During rec time in the courtyard, you’d become accustomed to standing by the fence and watching them lift weights.

“I’m good, thanks,” You smiled awkwardly, “I get tired just from watching you guys.”

“Peter’s right,” Steve let out a breath as he dropped his hundred-pound dumbbell.

“I just …” Your voice trailed off as Steve eyed you with his strong gaze. You knew that what he said goes but you were growing nervous, “I don’t want to get sweaty.”

“You’re serious?” Bucky chimed in, a curious look on his face.

“Is that like a girl thing I don’t know about?” Peter flashed you an amused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment.

“Y/N?” Steve could see that you were hiding something.

You crossed your arms, sighing, “I just don’t want to have to shower, okay?”

“You haven’t showered since you’ve been here?” Peter asked incredulously.

“I have!” You quickly defended yourself, “I mean, I’ve just been using the sink in my cell.”

“I see what this is about,” Bucky had a knowing look on his face, “Dollface is scared of the communal showers.”

Peter’s mouth formed the shape of an “o” as he realized what was going on. You still felt so embarrassed. It was yet another thing that made you seem totally defenseless.

“Is that true?” Steve asked and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by their concerned gazes, “Why didn’t you tell us? Next time, one of us will keep watch for you. No one’s gonna bother you.”

Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that your life would never be the same again. Maybe it was the fact that you’d never see your family again or that you cried yourself to sleep every night. That might be the reason you felt that they genuinely cared for you and why you wanted to fully embrace the comfort that they were providing.

Maybe that was why you wanted to belong to them.

For the first time, you were reminded of your old life. You weren’t sure how long you’d lost yourself under the water, letting time get away from you, as the warm water cascaded along your skin. The showers had a sorry excuse for water pressure and, despite the creepiness of the beige tiles and flickering light above, when you closed your eyes you were in paradise.

“All clean, beautiful?” Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance. Suddenly you were back in the square room with showerheads lining each wall. You wiped the water from your eyes before turning off the water.

“Y-Yes, I’m almost done!” You shouted back, grabbing your towel from off the hook. You pressed it to your face, drying your skin. You were quite grateful that they’d taken the extra steps to make you feel protected, “Bucky-”

As you turned around, that feeling of gratitude quickly turned to something resembling fear. He was supposed to wait for you outside the bathroom and yet, there he was, only three feet away from you.

“What are you-”

He looked over you hungrily and you pressed your towel closer to your body, “You have no idea how long it's been since I’ve been with a beautiful woman like you … Steve too. And Peter, he’s just learning the ropes.”

You took a step back, towards the wall, and as you did you caught a glimpse behind Bucky’s towering figure. Both Steve and Peter were here, stalking closer.

“You said you’d protect me…” Your voice cracked, your hands beginning to shake.

“We will,” Steve spoke, determined, “No one else but us will touch you.”

“Nothing in here is without a cost, Y/N,” Peter seemed a bit solemn like his current life was not what he wanted it to be but he was just as hungry, if not more, as Bucky.

Bucky grabbed you then, his eyes impatient, and you wrestled for your towel for only a moment before he easily snatched it away from you. A helpless squeal left your mouth as he grabbed you by the arm with one hand and placed his other hand between your legs. He grabbed your thigh tightly and as his hand moved further up, you found yourself paralyzed.

“Good girl. You’re going to take all of us,” Bucky spoke quietly, shushing you, his grip growing tighter and tighter. Before you knew it, all three of them were surrounding you, their curious hands wandering over your wet skin. Grabbing your breast, your thighs, turning your face to bite at your neck.

“Get on your knees,” Steve grunted against your ear, growing impatient like his friend.

When you didn’t move, Peter was the one to push you down onto the cold floor. You hiccuped, trying not to hyperventilate as they overwhelmed you from each side. As they all started to pull down their clothes, you made one final attempt at trying to crawl away.

Steve grabbed you by your throat, making your efforts futile, pushing your face towards his crotch. You felt it, hard and throbbing against your cheek, “Open up, don’t make this hard, doll,” Through the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky stroking his own length, waiting patiently for his turn.

Steve grabbed you by your hair next, pressing your closed lips against his tip. He forced himself in your mouth, “There you go,” Steve grunted, pushing himself deeper, “Move that tongue around.”

Steve Rogers could make your life a living hell in the Cage. Was this really the price you had to pay in order to survive here? You couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this but Steve could make that possible. That’s why you started to swirl your tongue like he said, deciding that their orgasms would end your pain.

Bucky was much rougher than Steve, pinching your nose closed and enjoying watching your eyes widen and water. He practically touched the back of your throat and still commanded you to stroke Peter and Steve’s cocks with your hands while you took him in your mouth. Somehow, you managed.

Peter was much more gentle and you were grateful for that. His hands rested softly on the back of your head, guiding your mouth slowly up and down his length, “God, this is awesome,” He cursed, his head tilting back as he enjoyed the stimulation. When he finally finished, his warmth filled your mouth and before you could spit or catch your breath, Bucky grabbed you again.

He came so far down your throat that you were forced to swallow it but, unlike him, Steve took his time, “This little mouth. Is ours. Every single hole. Is ours. No one else, do you understand?” With each sentence, he thrust hard until he filled your mouth. You leaned over, coughing as you felt the stinging of your sore throat.

You were about to collapse onto the dirty cold floor when gentle arms lifted you up into a broad chest. You found yourself not fighting, only pressing your face into Bucky’s chest as you began to sob.

Steve didn’t have to say anything more. You understand your new position and there wasn’t anyone else there to save you from that fate.

That night you learned there was a change to your cell assignment. You’d sleep in Steve’s arms, a little bird that was safe and protected in it’s cage.

hope you enjoyed!! i’m posting this instead of sleeping because I have class in this morning :)

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ssadumba55 · 3 years ago

Text

Binders (Looney Tunes X FtM! Reader)

A/N: Literally sorry if this is inaccurate as hell I have not started wearing a binder yet and literally have no idea what entirely happens when you wear one during sports I just wanted to write something cute. Also of course, this is set during Space Jam: A New Legacy so if you haven't seen that don't read under the keep reading thing (spoilers). I know I said a while ago I don't write Looney Tunes, but I have watched both Space Jams and fallen in love. I plan to delve further down the rabbit hole but for now my knowledge is limited to Space Jam so please be gentle if this out of character. Also you can make up a reason how/why you ended up on the team haha. I really didn't think this through I just wrote it. Either way, enjoy!

You looked at yourself in the mirror, it was the halfway point in the game and you were exhausted. You had to play like your life depended on it (because it did) but this entire thing was tiring. Not to mention you could feel the strain from your binder underneath the bright orange and blue Tune Squad jersey. It wasn’t meant to be worn during intense exercise and you were worried this whole ordeal might ruin your chances of getting top surgery.

But you couldn’t go out there without it on. You weren’t flat enough to pass and if they saw your chest there would be questions, questions you weren’t ready to answer. You loved the tunes, but they weren’t exactly the best at being discreet. The idea of being outed to thousands of people in the middle of a life or death basketball game made you shudder.

Glancing over your shoulder to make sure you were really alone, you decided to give yourself a quick break. You pulled the jersey over your head and then the binder, pulling the jersey back over your chest just in case someone decided to barge in. You could easily turn around and pretend to be busy so they wouldn’t see your chest. You sat down, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes.

The burning in your chest was still there but at least now you had room to breathe more than you had before. There was still 10 minutes of half time left (you’d booked it in here as soon as halftime was called), you just had to get through one more half-

“(Y/n)...?” A familiar uncertain voice called and you nearly jumped two feet in the air. Your arms immediately crossed over your chest.

“Daffy! Shouldn’t you be out there? You are the coach, right?” You laughed nervously, stepping in front of your binder still laying across the bench you’d been sitting on. If Daffy was here, it was only a matter of time before the other tunes and worst of all, Lebron James, noticed you two were missing.

The cartoon duck put his hands, wings?, on his hips.

“We’ve been looking for ya, ya didn’t hear tha new looney game plan. Is something tha matter?”

His question was genuinely curious. He clearly didn’t understand why you were hiding away from the rest of the group, he was just worried for his friend and you couldn’t blame him. It did seem a little weird that you were back here, hiding, when you guys were losing the game so badly.

“I- I’ll be right out, just let me finish getting ready,” you promised him, “catch me up on the way out to the court?’

He shrugged and nodded, walking away to give you your own privacy. You sighed, looking down at your binder. Things would’ve been so much easier if you’d just been born a male. You wouldn’t need to risk your body wearing this thing during sports.

You pulled your jersey over your head and began to pull the binder over your chest. Once it was back on, you could feel your body protest immediately, but you didn’t have a choice. You threw your jersey back on and headed out, checking yourself over in the mirror once before.

“Alright, guys. I’m ready…” You walked out, hands on your hips to greet your teammates, only to be met with unreadable expressions on everyone’s faces. It was as if they somehow knew what you were doing and disapproved. You only had a couple minutes before you all needed to be on the court though, so nobody said anything.

The group headed back out and you tried to match the energy, but you had to face the music. Your body was strained, even without the binder this would be a lot to put it through and with it, it was almost unbearable. You took a step toward the court to join the others, and the world felt a little fuzzy.

You must’ve fallen and blacked out, because the next thing you know you’re laying in a bed and somehow you’re not dead. Maybe that had all been a crazy dream. You’d never gotten stuck in a server forced to play basketball with an all powerful algorithm. You’d never worn your binder during it all, you’d never met the Looney Tunes.

For a moment you fooled yourself into believing that. And then a sharp pain came through your body.

You let out a cry of pain and the door was pushed open.

“You’re okay!” You hadn’t been expecting the Tunes to be on the other side of the door… or in this world in general but somehow seeing them made you relax a bit. If they were here that must’ve meant they’d won the game. No thanks to you, but they hadn’t been deleted. They’d defeated Al-G. Lebron had gotten his son back.

“I’m okay. What are you guys even doing here anyway?” You asked, slightly exhausted.

Daffy and Bugs both hopped on the bed, trying to fight for a spot to sit (that apparently needed to be the spot where the other was sitting). You watched them squabble for a bit before Lola pulled them apart.

“Stop that, you’re going to hurt him,” she scolded them, shoving them to the side, then turning to address you.

“We were worried about you. Mr. James was really nice and let us stay for a bit so we could be here when you woke up,” she explained.

“You weren’t supposed ta be wearing that thing on your chest, were you?” Daffy crossed his arms over his own chest and you laughed nervously. They all knew. You wondered who had explained it to them.

“Look, guys. I know you’re mad that I lied to you-”

They all blinked, exchanging looks as if the thought had never even crossed their minds. Your face heated up, had you said something wrong?

“We weren’t mad about your gender, (Y/n), if that’s what you’s thinking. We’re just worried about that chest thing. They said you was wearing it the whole game until you passed out. You know that’s not healthy, right?” Bugs' ears had flopped behind his head.

You laughed nervously. “No it’s not, you’re right. I should’ve known better, I’ll be more careful next time. Sorry guys.”

They seemed to genuinely accept this apology, though they still looked worried. You prodded them to tell you what happened during the game after you passed out and they did relay it in shocking detail, you wished you could’ve been there to see it. After a while, they were ushered out so you could get some rest, Daffy hung back.

“I saved this for ya. Thought ya might want it.” He handed something tattered, it was your binder. They must’ve cut it off to save time. It had cost so much to get and it was all down the drain now. You took it, tossing it across the room into the trash can by the door. You winced as you laid down but it had gotten in and you were satisfied.

“I’ll get a new one, thanks though, Daffy.” You smiled at him and when the two of you met eyes, you could see that genuine curiosity from before. “You want to hang out here for a bit? I know I’m supposed to be resting but I feel like I’ll go insane if I can’t talk to someone.”

Daffy placed his one hand on his hip and brought the other up to tap his beak as if deep in thought, then all of a sudden, he launched himself up on the bed.

“Let me tell ya something, (Y/n). I have been working on something I can’t show tha others yet and you’re tha perfect person to try it out on-”

You felt all warm and fuzzy as he continued to ramble. There was something special about being accepted by a bunch of cartoon characters you’d looked up to for so long. Even though you were certain they didn’t fully understand, having their support and friendship meant the world.

You’d be sad when it was time for them to head back to Looney Tune World.

Oh well, maybe you could visit them sometime.

#looney tunes imagine #looney tunes x reader #bugs bunny x reader #bugs bunny imagine #lola bunny x reader #lola bunny imagine #daffy duck x reader #daffy duck imagine

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

statistically significant | 7 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

One month later

The Hero Awards certainly did not disappoint the second time around.

Though you’d spent the last few months in the company of some of these heroes, you couldn’t help but linger on the sidelines as they stalked their way down the walkway, staring in awe. As before, they were decked out in their absolute best, glimmering in jewel toned dresses with daring cutouts, or carving dashing profiles in well-fitted suits. Reporters and fans swarmed the sides of the red carpet, roiling like a pot reaching an agitated boil.

Their excitement was so palpable it hung heavy in the air, absolutely contagious. Maybe it was the fact that you knew some of the heroes up for awards tonight personally, but the potential of the evening simmered under your skin, a soft but constant hum of frenetic energy.

Or maybe some of that was due to the fact that this year, you’d been able to convince your boss to shell out the extra cash for the full dinner option. No longer would you need to smuggle snacks into your dress--this evening, you were a solid professional.

Which was a good thing, really, as the dress in question was not altogether any more secure or supportive than your dress from last year. You’d tried to angle for a thicker fabric and a little more of a conservative design, but several people had aired opinions on your choices over the course of the last few weeks, and you’d ended up in a thin swathe of delicate fabric that was really quite pretty, if you did say so yourself, but would support a grand total of maybe two popcorn kernels.

“You’re looking awfully forlorn over here,” someone chirped by your ear.

You startled, whirling to find Mina behind you, looking rosy and radiant in a form-fitting dress only a few shades lighter than her skin tone. Tiny pearls and clusters of glittering pink diamonds were stitched carefully into the fabric, winking at you as she moved, as bright as the conspiratorial grin she wore. She looked absolutely fabulous--she was one of the people who’d bullied you into the snackless gown, and you could begrudgingly admit that the girl had taste.

“Is it because a certain hotheaded blonde isn’t here yet?” she asked, a pink eyebrow going up.

You flushed. “Mina--oh my god, no. Not everything is about him, you know.”

She idly inspected a nail, looking supremely unconvinced. “Someone should tell him that, then.”

You huffed a laugh. The last time you’d been at the Awards, you’d said as much to him yourself. But a year later, the message was still not exactly being received.

“I’m actually thinking about dinner. I’m literally starving,” you complained, trying to divert the subject.

Mina nodded sympathetically. “I have a six pack and I still had to suck in to fit into this shit.”

As if on cue, your stomach growled sympathetically. You weren’t proud of what it was going to be like when you were finally unleashed on that multi-course dinner, but god it was gonna be worth it.

Several shrieks went up in the crowd of fans behind you, and you looked over your shoulder in alarm. Your pulse relaxed slightly when you realized it was just another pro sauntering down the walkway, but then the lights flickered off ashy blonde locks, and your pulse jumped violently. You jerked in surprise.

Mina didn’t even try to suppress her snort as you turned around fully, eyes pulled like a magnet to Bakugou as he stalked down the red carpet. Even looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and moving briskly over the carpet like he was going in for a kill, he still looked better than he had any right to. The charcoal of his suit--stitched with deep ruby flowers so dark they were almost black--brought out the piercing scarlet of his eyes, and your heart leapt into your mouth when those eyes cut over to meet yours.

His expression didn’t change, and he kept moving, but you flushed all the way from your head to your toes at the intensity behind his look.

Mina made a disgusted noise. “You’re both like a dog with a bone.”

You glared at her accusingly. “We literally just looked at each other.”

She clicked her tongue. “Please, he all but just pissed on you to mark his territory.”

Before you could reply, she called out, catching sight of Kirishima, and seized you to drag you over to say hello.

You let Mina drag you around for the next half hour, making polite conversation with her high school friends, a couple of friends from other agencies, and one fashion journalist who Mina had converted into a weekly drinking buddy. Mina kept the conversation light and easy, and you enjoyed yourself for the most part, though you almost passed out when a very distinct head of green curls materialized over her shoulder and then Midoriya Izuku--better known as the number one hero Deku--was smiling at you eagerly.

Things got even weirder when he appeared to not only already know who you were, but knew a great deal about your work, enough to ask some very detailed questions about your training model software that was going into production a couple months from now. Mina had the gall to cut into the conversation to call you both huge nerds, though she’d directly benefited from the model herself.

The conversation was unfortunately cut short when a calloused hand flung itself in front of your face and a rough voice sounded from over your shoulder. “Stop sticking your nose in my fucking business, Deku.”

You whipped around to find Bakugou glaring over your head at his former classmate. His hand closed around your shoulder and dragged you closer to him.

“I was just asking about her model, Kacchan,” Midoriya said patiently. “It’ll be great to be able to compare my movements directly with some of the other heroes in almost real time! Ojirou’s been trying out some new fighting forms and I was thinking I should try to adapt them to work into my shoot style--”

“Just because you couch it in nerd shit doesn’t mean you’re not trying to spy on me, fuckstick,” Bakugou said. “Stop poking your nose into my relationship like the town fucking gossip.”

Midoriya flushed a little, looking slightly chastened when you turned back to him in question. He gave you an embarrassed little smile. “I did want to meet you for reasons other than your model. Kacchan’s been my friend since I was little, and I wondered what kind of person could interest him so much he wanted my perspective on your work--”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou demanded, but he wasn’t fast enough.

You perked up in interest. “He asked you what?”

Bakugou bristled like a cat being dangled over a bath, but Midoriya was paying him no mind. “Right after the last Hero Awards, he’d done all this research and he asked me about whether your model results lined up with some of the personal analysis that I was doing--”

“Deku,” Bakugou’s fingers tightened on your arm, growing alarmingly warm. “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’m going to punch all of your teeth straight down your throat and into your stomach.”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya protested, but he was interrupted by a call on the overhead for everyone to start taking their places in the theater interior for the awards to begin.

Bakugou used the distraction to pry you away from Midoriya. In the blink of an eye, he’d gotten you across the theater and was corralling you towards the Miruko agency tables, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. You stifled a laugh. You’d wondered a couple months ago exactly how and when he’d figured out you were quirkless, and he’d once asked if you thought you were the only one who’d done their research.

If things were anything like you were starting to suspect, your demands that he do better at the Hero Awards had apparently aroused his interest in more ways than one.

You and Bakugou hadn’t exactly settled on formal terms for your relationship yet, and he still more often than not answered any of your interest with the assertion that you were the one with the crush on him. But this was more evidence--beyond the mysterious coffees that showed up at your workstation almost every morning--that your interest was more intensely reciprocated than he was willing to own up to.

By the time you’d settled at a table and been flanked by a grinning Mina and Kaminari, the awards were getting underway. They were thrilling to watch, something you’d had to miss out on last year when you needed to sneak out with a giant hole in the front of your dress. The heroes you’d worked with this year raked in an insane number of awards, and their elation was palpable, so thick you could almost taste it in the air. The pair of men with satyr horns were named the Best Rookie Duo, Miruko was awarded Takedown of the Year, and Kaminari clocked the Fastest Fight Win for a battle last month in which he’d rendered a villain with an aluminum quirk insensate only seconds into the fight.

A very unfortunate match up, you thought.

Mina nabbed an award for Fan Favorite, and in almost no time, it was the moment that you’d been nervously awaiting since nominations had gone out. You’d cheated, doing your own calculations behind everyone’s backs just to get a clearer picture of what his chances were, and you rather liked his odds, but there was always a chance it wouldn’t go how you thought. But this was the moment that Bakugou was up for Most Valuable Hero.

You barely heard any of the words the host was saying as he trotted out the names of the nominees, detailing some of their key accomplishments. He covered Bakugou's latest slew of assists and rescues, stats that made you feel kind of weirdly warm and proud, and then your ears strained for the syllables you’d hoped to hear.

And then:

“The winner is...our explosive number six, Ground Zero!”

It took everything in you not to leap out of your seat in joy, though something like a strangled squeal managed to escape you. Bakugou gave you an evaluating look as he got to his feet, stalking up on stage with his usual intensity.

As soon as he was up there, it struck you that allowing him time for an acceptance speech was maybe not a great idea. Graciousness was not exactly a strength of his.

“Obviously I’m the most valuable,” he growled into the mic. The stage lights glinted off his hair and teeth, making him look slightly more predatory than usual. “I didn’t need you fucks to tell me.”

A choking noise could be heard from Kirishima’s seat a couple tables over, and Mina put her head in her hands.

“What’s important is that I’m number six now and it only took me a month,” Bakugou’s head swiveled in the direction of Midoriya and you suppressed a groan. “Don’t get fucking comfortable. I’m gonna wipe the floor with every one of the top five, and next awards you’ll all be kissing my ass.”

He didn’t seem like he had much more he wanted to say, which was an incredible relief as both the host and nearby security looked about ready to wrestle him offstage.

He leapt neatly down from the stage, and when he made it back to the table, he didn’t take his seat again. Instead, he grabbed your arm, hauling you out of your seat, and then he was pulling you down the aisle and through the door to the reception area.

He pulled you past the snack table and you thought he was steering you towards the stairwell again, but at the last second he took a sudden turn, shoving you through a door into the women’s powder room. You didn’t even have enough time to formulate a question before he had you backed up against the wall, your shoulders hitting the cool stone at the same time his mouth hit yours.

His kiss was hot and demanding as always, and you lost yourself in it easily. He trailed a line of burning kisses down your neck and over your shoulder, making you shudder and shake when he lingered too long over any particular spot.

It was hard to think past the press of his body on yours, but you tried your best to formulate words.

“Katsuki--it’s--we’re in the women’s room,” you panted, embarrassed by the fact that even as you spoke, you were clutching him closer. “This is--what are you--? S-someone’s gonna come in.”

Bakugou broke apart from you just long enough to level a searching glance around the room and--spotting what he’d been looking for--hefting the trashcan in front of the door with a forceful kick to stop it shut.

“There, nerd. Now stop fucking complaining,” he rasped, immediately attaching his mouth back under your jaw. You shuddered.

“What the fuck has gotten into you,” you demanded, seizing a fistful of his blonde hair to pull him back from where he was leaving what felt like a very deep bruise over your collarbone.

He leveled you with a burning, red-eyed stare. “Like you don’t fucking know.”

You looked at him in question. “...I actually don’t.”

He tried to lean in again but you gripped his hair harder. “What? You can’t just keep throwing me up against walls, especially here. What is it with you and shoving me into weird places at the Hero Awards?”

Bakugou growled. “If you don’t shut the fuck up and let me do what I want, I’m gonna burn throught this dress too.”

You froze up, then glared at him accusingly. “I literally write the code that processes your rank. If you ever wanna come within sniffing distance of the top three, you won’t touch a single thread of this dress.”

The hands on you grew hot, but not hot enough to burn. Bakugou slid a calloused hand over the curve of your waist, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.

“God, the fuckin’ attitude on you,” he said, almost reverently.

You felt your face warm under his scrutiny as he leaned closer. “You wanna know what's gotten into me? I wanted to melt that entire fucking thing off you last year. You were so fucking mouthy, such a little brat to me. Wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you right in the stairwell until you forgot you’d ever even heard of numbers.”

You shivered. Bakugou smirked, eyes darkening, leaning back in to bite under your jaw. You realized you’d lost your grip on him and willed your fingers to cooperate again.

“I fucking won that stupid award because I let you boss me around. I've waited an entire year. Now you’re gonna let me do whatever I want with you.”

Your legs went out from beneath you but Bakugou was already there, catching you under your thighs and hauling you up onto the countertop between the sinks. Your back brushed the mirror, glass cold under your shoulder blades.

“Y--you know, if you actually want to be number one, you can’t make speeches like you did,” you babbled nervously as he filled the space between your thighs. “Your public approval rating is part of your ranking, right? It’s weighted right below rescues…”

Bakugou paid you no mind, fingers already searching over your back to find the zipper to your dress. He yanked it down with little ceremony, seizing the front of your bodice to pull it off of you.

“I don’t need to be fucking nice if I’m the one saving the day,” he announced imperiously, leaning down to capture a nipple with his mouth.

Your hips jerked, and he pressed a hand to your thigh, holding you back down against the counter. Dimly, you registered that the words were familiar. “N--not--ah!--not this again.”

Bakugou didn’t deign to respond, instead doing something absolutely mind-bending with his tongue. You swore loudly, catching a fistful of his jacket. “Fuck, Katsuki!”

A hot palm slid up your thigh, gathering up the soft material of your skirt until he could slip a hand underneath. Calloused fingers trailed over your core with obvious intention. You inhaled sharply when he pressed them into you, leaning up to cover your mouth with his again.

Bakugou had you squirming wildly against him in barely a minute, snorting when you tried to get a hand on his zipper.

“Want me that bad, nerd?” he asked, pressing forehead to yours in an oddly tender move.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up I’m gonna finish things myself,” you threatened, though Bakugou did not look at all as if he believed you.

He helped you get his zipper down, taking himself in hand, but he stopped just as he brushed your entrance, leaning forward to bite another kiss into your mouth.

“Now it’s time for you to make good on your end of the bet,” he growled, a smirk growing over his features. “You’ll tell me I’m the best and I was right all along.”

You stilled underneath him, disbelieving. “Are you--are you fucking serious.”

Bakugou pressed forward, just enough for you to feel the pressure of him on your clit. You fought down a noise like a whimper. Damn him.

“I jumped two ranks,” he said. “You’ll tell me I’m the best if you want me, nerd.”

“I am not gonna beg for you like this,” you announced, though it sounded a little more like a question than you had wanted it to.

Bakugou brushed his thumb over your clit again and little sparks danced over the corner of your vision. “Mmm, you’re gonna scream.”

You felt something like a tension snap inside you. Fuck it. He was so annoying but holy shit if he wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever encountered. If he needed his ego stroked, well it wasn’t nearly as much as you needed your own stroking.

You grit your teeth. “Ugh, fine--just--you’re the best, and you were right all along. Now will you please--”

You didn’t even get to finish before he was sinking into you, narrow hips fitting flush with your thighs. You swore at the feeling of fullness, and then he was moving, picking up into a frantic pace. He leaned forward, sealing his mouth over yours to swallow all the little noises you were making. It was mere minutes before you were shivering underneath him again, moving your hips to meet his, desperate for more, Katsuki, more.

“Ah fuck--so fucking good for me,” he grunted against your mouth, giving a particularly hard thrust, and that was all it took to unravel you.

You stifled a scream in the thick fabric of his jacket, arching up into him. He cursed and followed after you with a few more short thrusts, crushing you against the counter when he let his weight go slack.

You panted underneath him, catching your breath while your fingers slowly unclenched themselves from the hem of his suit jacket. Bakugou rubbed his face in the hollow of your shoulder, radiating smug satisfaction.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, nerd?” he rasped, biting down lightly where he’d left the hickey earlier.

You pulled back, looking into his face again. He looked far too pleased with himself, but he was so handsome like this, all messy hair and a kiss darkened mouth. Your irritation with him fizzled out a little.

He flashed you a predatory grin. “You said it yourself--I'm the fucking best.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your hand from coming up and tangling in his hair. “Shut the fuck up.”

Bakugou, predictably, did not look as if he was going to shut the fuck up at all. So you took matters into your own hands, and leaned in and kissed him again.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou

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volleychumps · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request an one shot or head cannon with Akaashi and Iwaizumi where you’re manager at training camp and everyone decided it would be fun to go hiking nearby but you suddenly get lost and twist your ankle or something and when you run into them, you start to tear up from relief as they comfort you and piggy back you back.

« Finding You.

~ the one where you go missing for a night, prompting Akaashi Keiji to search for you despite the dangers lurking in the darkness

Format: One-shot

genre: fluff

- Akaashi Keiji x Reader

--------------------------------------------

9:03pm

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.”

“No, we should just go hiking when the sun is, I don’t know, out?” You glare at a smirking Konoha as Bokuto slings an arm around around your shoulders, pouting at you pleadingly as he bounces on the balls of his feet.

“The other teams manager’s letting them go!!!”

“What if you hurt yourself, Bo?” You frown, and Bokuto gasps before locking pinkies with you, staring you dead in the eye before crossing his heart with his finger.

“I solemnly swear I will not get hurt, Y/N.”

“Do you even know what solemnly means?”

“Nope! Akaashi said it once though-”

“I’m against this as well.” Akaashi puts a hand on the back of his neck, peering down at you as blue eyes notice the shift of your feet in place. “We can go exploring tomorrow-”

“No.” You interject, noticing the immediate wilt of Bokuto’s shoulders before pinching the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily to yourself. “...we can go tonight. Some of you have way too much energy, maybe walking around will tire you guys out.”

“‘Atta girl!” Konoha glomps you as Bokuto hugs your other side, and you laugh a bit as Komi and Sarukui go to gather the flashlights from the other teams-

A dark-haired setter the only one to notice the lilt of nervousness in your laugh among the chaos.

--------------------------------------------------------

10:12pm

“Y/N, do you want to hold my hand?”

“Konoha, stop making moves on her, it’ll never happen.”

“Shut it, Komi!”

You force a chuckle, trudging along behind a talkative Bokuto as Akaashi strolls besides you, glancing at you once in a while as you keep your hands deep in your pockets, ensuring that no one would be able to see the nervous clench of your fists. Akaashi lifts another branch for you as you smile in thanks, eyes flitting around the dark as you swallow tightly.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know. You could’ve stayed.” Akaashi’s talking before he can stop himself, and you blink at the abruptness of his words.

You frown, laughing a bit at Akaashi’s usual polite tone before nudging the quiet boy with your shoulder once.

“Careful, ‘Kaashi- you might make me think you don’t want me here.”

Akaashi’s jaw clenched in the dark, noting the waver in your voice before making a calculative decision. His chest twinged as his lips parted, words slipping out quietly as the rest of the team laughed among themselves.

“And what if I say I don’t?”

Your feet slow, Akaashi walking ahead to merely glance back at you as the smile on your face completely disappears.

“Am I...slowing you guys down?” Your hurt tone made Akaashi look forward, unwilling to see the flash of pain across your face as he wishes he could take it back-

“Yeah.” Akaashi says tightly, noticing the other boys have quieted down as well, the tension at the back of the group now noticeable as everyone seems to still.

“No she’s not, Y/N don’t listen-!”

“It’s alright, Bo.” You say softly, forcing a chuckle as you avoid everyone’s stares. “I’ll head back. I know the way.”

“I’ll go with you.” The tension in Akaashi’s chest relaxes, and he begins to follow you before your snapped response makes him stop in his steps.

“No. I want to go by myself. I might slow you down, Akaashi.”

Akaashi opens his mouth to press the matter, but Konoha’s faster. He clasps the blue-eyed boy’s shoulder in annoyance, shaking his head with a you’ve done enough, gesture. You were already far now, and Akaashi stared wide-eyed after you-

his plan to get you back to safety completely backfiring.

“Go, Akaashi, king of sucking the fun out of things.” Bokuto says childishly, nudging his friend a long as Akaashi casts another look into the now empty darkness behind him-

wishing he hadn’t said anything in the first place as he prays you reach the camp before they do.

----------------------------------

11:00pm

“Maaaan, I’m beat.”

“We should thank Y/N for letting us go.” Bokuto yawns as the boys trudge towards the camp sluggishly.

“Some of us have a lot of things to say to Y/N.” Konoha says carefully, refusing to glance in Akaashi’s direction before scoffing. “Let’s go make sure she got here safe, she should be sleeping by now.”

Komi and Sarukui emerge a few moments later from the entrance of the girl’s dormitories, running frantically as Konoha blinks in confusion. Bokuto wipes the tiredness out of his eyes as the two boys pant out of breath.

“Y/N never came back!”

“What?! Shit, we have to go back-”

“The teachers are out looking, right now-”

Konoha laughs bitterly, gritting his teeth before spinning on his heel with an accusatory edge to his voice. “What the hell are you gonna do now....Akaashi?”

But he was already gone.

-----------------------------

12:01pm

It was dark.

You didn’t know how many minutes or hours it had been, deciding to stay put instead of venturing further into your worst fear. All sense of direction lost, you had sat in a patch of daffodils, seeming to shine in the moonlight as you willed anyone to come.

The pain in your ankle causes you to hiss as you stretch your leg out in front of you, unable to walk anymore. You stare up at the moon, fear now an exhausted emotion in your veins.

Anyone. Please, anyone.

You should have pressed to stay with the group. You knew you wouldn’t be able to come back on your own, so why didn’t you?

Akaashi’s face flashes in your head again as your eyes seem to well up with more unshed tears, wondering why his words had as big of an impact on you as they did.

Keiji. The most sensible one on the team, always trailing besides you, the first to give you high-fives before matches. The one to remind the team of your birthday, always saving you the seat next to him at lunch under the trees. Keeping the boys in line when they show up for morning practice so you can take a much-needed rest, sometimes an extra breakfast packed away in his bag-

Why did it hurt so much coming from him?

“Don’t kid yourself.” You whispered to yourself, realizing you were all alone. There were no feelings to hide in front of anybody anymore. Your face found your knee again, feeling the material of your pants wet with your tears. “You know why. You’re in love with him.”

You sniffle, feeling absolutely dumb. Feelings took precedence over your safety as you had stomped away, childishly not realizing Akaashi just wanted to bring you back to camp. Of course he noticed, what made you think he wouldn’t?

“And what if I say I don’t?”

You whimper, digging your hands into the dirt beneath you, collecting strewn petals.

“Keiji.” It was soft. Your tone was completely defenseless as you sobbed into your dirtied palms-

“I’m here.”

Your eyes snap open, head jolting up. You relax when you see that you had imagined it, not seeing anyone in front of you as you chuckle humorlessly.

“I’m going insane.” You whisper-

a jacket with Fukurodani’s colors slipping over your vision.

You gasp, taking the jacket laid across your head off your face to look up owlishly at a panting Akaashi, stripped off his team jacket as he stood in front of you in just a fitted black shirt. He bends at the knee, tilting his head at you as he finds stability in his voice despite the breathlessness.

He felt punched in the stomach at the sight of dirt streaking your cheek, a trail of tears flowing from each eye freely as the look of fear on your face melts into one of relief.

“Are you hurt?”

“K-Keiji...” You blink, not believing the sight of the beautiful boy bent in front of you. Akaashi clears his throat, wiping some sweat from his brow before cupping your cheek gently, smiling softly when you lean into his touch. Your eyes well up with tears of relief before Akaashi tugs the material back over your eyes.

“You hate people seeing you cry, right?”

“M-My ankle...” Is all you manage out, and you feel Akaashi assess the damage, frowning when the slightest touch makes you wince. The blue-eyed boy takes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders instead before facing the opposite direction of you. You blink as he presents his back, glancing back at you with a softness in his eyes you can’t pinpoint.

“Wrap your arms around my neck.”

“I’m too heavy...”

“You aren’t.”

You shakily comply, feeling Akaashi carefully lift your legs before beginning to trudge a long. The silence was thick with unsaid words as you breathe in his scent, piggybacking on the setter as you struggle to find the right words.

“Keiji-”

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as your eyes widen, and he pauses for a brief second within the silence. “Y/N, I just wanted...”

“I know.” You cut him off with a hush, the pain in your ankle dulling to a slight throb.

“I never meant-”

“I know.”

“...wanted to keep you safe-”

“Keiji?” You cut him off a second time, and Akaashi stills his movements completely as you rest your head on his shoulder, the setter feeling tears wet his shoulder as you smile in the darkness.

“Thank you for finding me.” You whisper, and Akaashi lets go of your good leg for a second to hastily wipe at his eyes.

“Are you crying?” Your tone is teasing now, and the dark-haired boy scoffs, beginning to walk again.

“Look who’s talking.”

“Hey!” You protest, feeling his grip on your legs tighten ever so slightly. Akaashi glances back at you, and you gasp, pulling back a little on instinct from your place on his back.

“Y/N.”

“What?” You question hastily, embarrassed at the proximity as Akaashi’s lips stretch into a slight smirk.

“If you’re gonna confess, confess to me, not when you think nobody’s listening.”

Your face turns hot, the pain now unnoticeable as your eyes turn owlish, beginning to stutter excuses.

12:36

Akaashi turns his head, blue eyes bright in the moonlight as he whispers against your lips.

“Though I think you can guess my answer.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @nekomawhore @holaaaf@babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle

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wouldnt-it-be-hilarious-if-i · 2 years ago

Text

Adding this song to the list of songs I'd like sung to me one day

Thinking a lot about this girl (me, circa 2011/2012) tonight.

I was the cringiest person on the planet, but I love that girl. She was so angry and silly and immature, and I just want that energy back. I want the ability to feel rage again and to stand up for myself. I mean, I PELTED a boy with my unused pads! I hopped a desk to beat a boy's ass because he called a girl that I did not like ugly! I cussed people out on the regular and roasted them on sight! I kicked a girl in the back of the knees and made her slam down against the pavement once when she said her little brother could call my brother the N word if he wanted because that's probably exactly what he was!

But I also wrote out the funniest diary entries. I planned mine and my crush's wedding out to the minutest detail: The flowers, the venue, the dress, the colors, the theme. I drew pictures. I wrote the headings out in different colored markers. I drew myself as Rapunzel and wrote captions begging for my prince. I wrote that boys were bad, and then in all caps wrote that I like that.

Once, I wrote a poem for my crush and read it in class. He was in that class, and I looked him directly in the eye and read it to him. When he laughed at me and asked if I wrote it for him, everyone laughed with him until I said, "Don't flatter yourself. I'd never waste my time writing about you." But I did! I absolutely did write about him and truly thought if I read him a poem declaring my love for him in class, he would magically love me back. He did, but he didn't admit it until the end of the year after I moved.

I followed boys around in elementary school taking notes on their character to see if they worthy of my time and if they aligned with my values. One time, a boy asked my brother if he could ask me to stop watching him practice for basketball because me taking notes on him was creeping him out a little. Like, y'all, I had no awareness of social cues whatsoever. I just did this. I'd fill whole journals with my notes.

I would give anything to know what happened to those journals because I just know the notes were funny.

One time, my friend and I went on a field trip when we were in the 5th grade and we convinced ourselves that the surprise guest they kept telling us about was Justin Bieber. We were insane. There was absolutely no reason for us to think this. But when they started to announce who the guest was, the arena we were in, which housed almost all the elementary schools in the area (this was in Hawaii), was dead silent. And we both got so fucking excited and gaga over this guy that we both jumped up and started screaming and dancing, "WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!!!!!!!!!!!"

And then the announcer announced some guy???? We were both immediately embarrassed. I remember sitting down and both of us just covering our faces with our hands until everyone looked away. A few years later, when the Justin Bieber movie came out where he was talking about his life, I went with a friend and we wore Justin Bieber everything and squealed uncontrollably whenever he came on the screen. And then we fought over who was going to marry him.

And you know the brand Little Miss Matched?

This one?

The entire point of the brand is that nothing matches and it's supposed to be super zany and unique. I discovered them in New York and begged my parents for as many pairs as they would buy me. They got me several, and I wore them. Every. Single. Day. I was twelve. I wore these to school and around the house. I wore tutu's to school with combat boots and fake nerd glasses and my makeup never looked good ever.

At my school, we used to take used, unwashed chip bags and make bows out of them and put them in our hair. It was camp. I remember one time, I wanted to show school spirit during spirit week and I wrote out the mascot on my face in eyeliner while looking in the mirror. A girl who became one of my best friends ended up telling me that the word was backward before anyone else had the chance to see. Love her.

That was dumb shit. I was best friends with all my teachers. I loved my art teacher because she told me that I was the only tolerable child she had in any of her classes and my art was always so creative. I used copious amounts of glitter and gems on everything. My lit teacher and I used to talk about my goals to read all the classics I could before high school, and she would recommend poetry to me. She made me feel like a queen because I knew the psychological term for a fear of being without your phone.

When Mindless Behavior was big, I nearly fought a girl who told me that Ray Ray was hers. I made edits and devoted whole albums on my Facebook to these guys (and to Justin Bieber). I sobbed when Miley Cyrus and Nick Jonas broke up, and I secret shipped Fiona and Imogen on Degrassi when they fell for each other. I used to use words like "salutations" and say terms and idioms that everyone laughed at me for. I'd ask philosophical questions during math class, "What if the Christian God is just like the Greek Gods? If our God is the god of everything, and there are individual Gods of certain things with the Greek Gods, that means that our God could be just like the other gods. He just has all their powers in one place." To which they answered, "What the hell are you talking about? There's only one God." They just weren't on my level *flips hair*

I've caught myself reverting back to this girl in the last few months. Listening to the music that she did. Not caring so much about the way I dress and present myself. Writing fanfiction again and posting it.

I just love this girl, this version of me, so much. I know how much she cried, and I know how hurt she was. I know how badly she needed help and how often she cried out for it and was ignored. I know what she went through and the way she was treated. I know how hard it was for her to fit in because she just couldn't get herself to mask in a way that would allow her to fit in. She always did things a little bit wrong. Always misread situations just slightly. Was always using language in the wrong context.

But I also know that she's still friends with her friends from middle school, and that they always have kind things to say about that girl. I know that my room was carefully covered from wall to wall in posters of all my favorite celebrities from Teen Bop and Tiger Beat magazines. I know that she used to try the crafts from American Girl magazine, and that she loved to read about every celebrity's life. I know that she used to explore the woods and pretend she was a princess or a witch. I know that she left out offerings to fairies until she was thirteen, and that she made spells under the moonlight, and hit her nephew (he's two years younger) with the back of a rake and knocked him down the stairs by accident when he kept jumping into the same pile of leaves that he had just heard her dad threaten to beat her ass over.

I know how much she hated herself. But all these things about her are what I miss the most. I miss her inability to fit in because it protected her from a lot. I miss her inability to read and interpret social cues because it means that she didn't process just how deep a lot of the hate for her went. I miss her lack of awareness, her freedom, her drive to live her own life on her own terms even if it meant putting on makeup at school and changing her clothes to something she liked after she left home. If she wanted to wear lip gloss, she would make it happen. She was so fierce and angry and tough and funny and full of life. She had no chill whatsoever and embarrassed herself at any given moment.

When did I stop getting angry? When did I stop fighting back for myself? Why did I stop?

I miss her. I miss her so much and I admire and love her. I don't care how cringey and weird and funny she was. She is a part of me, and every day, I strive to give back to her just as much as I give back to little Brooklyn.

In 2023, I want to go back to her.

#Spotify

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Our Song

At the last show of his tour, Kells invites you on stage for a duet, but it turns into a bit more than that.

Request: “Can you do one where the reader and Colson both are music artist. I know you're doing this with "The Thing We Can't Tell Pete about. But with this one they have been dating for a while and while they are in the middle of the song Colson decides to announce they're dating and gives her a kiss in front of the crowd, and the reader is just in shock. However it ends it up to you. Love ya!!!!!!!!”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: implied smut/ mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: So, I used my own lyrics in here because why not (sue me I guess)

Word Count: 2326

The last two months had been absolute hell on Earth. Yes, you loved your job. Recording your third studio album was exciting but being busy all the time was exhausting. On top of that, your boyfriend being off on tour meant you hadn’t seen him in person in two months, which was driving you even more insane.

It also meant you hadn’t had sex in almost two months.

You’d called each other every night, even if you were both drunk off your asses or faded beyond belief. It had become your routine; get home from the studio, grab something to eat, then hop into the bath and facetime your blond boyfriend.

Tonight, was no exception, but the energy on the call was different. Colson was coming home tomorrow. Granted, he would be going straight to the venue for his concert, but he’d be here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right princess?” He asked, a joint hanging from his lips.

You smiled, nodding, “I haven’t seen you in two months. If I’m not there, you should assume I’m dead.”

He chuckled, “good.” He hesitated before continuing, “I was thinking you could perform with me. We haven’t performed White Sea in like a year.”

You bit your lip at the thought of performing with him again. He was right, after you’d finished live performance promo for the song, neither of you had performed it together. “Yeah, I’m down.”

The song was the first one you’d written together; it was actually the whole reason you’d met. “You don’t think people will get suspicious though? I mean, people are already catching on. I feel like performing it out of the blue would add fire to the flames.”

He thought about it, the wheels turning in his head. “I think it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret.”

You nodded, “I know, we’ve just never really talked about telling people.” The last two words came out softer than you had intended.

Colson and you had been together for a year and still hadn’t officially told anyone outside of your closest circles. You liked the privacy, and getting the media involved always caused problems. So, you kept it to yourself. People saw you out together, but nothing had been confirmed.

Colson left the conversation there, not having a good answer. You had both agreed a long time ago that if people figured it out or someone slipped up and told you would be okay with it, and you would. You just didn’t think it was a big deal if people knew or not.

He started talking about his day on tour, the crowd he’d played to tonight. You told him about the song you were working on. Eventually he got called away by the boys.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” He smiled at you through your phone.

You smiled, “You better. I-“ You almost slipped up. Almost said those three words so casually. But you’d caught yourself. “I can’t wait.” You covered.

He gave you a small wave before your screen went back, the sound of the line disconnecting ringing through your bathroom. You put your phone on the floor next to the tub, leaning your head back and sighing.

You don’t know why it worried you so much. You knew you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you too. There was just something about saying out loud that scared the hell out of you.

The next day was amazing. As soon as he texted you that he’d gotten to the venue, you were rushing to meet him there. When you stepped into the green room where he was, he ran up to you and grabbed you by your waist. Your arms went around his neck, legs around his as he lifted you up, burying his face into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your skin. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely.

“I missed you too.” You whispered. He lifted his head up and pressed a deep kiss to your lips as your feet came down to touch the floor again. His lips were so familiar, it felt like the world had shifted back into place when you felt them on yours.

He pulled away, forehead and nose still pressed against yours. Your hands travelled from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing the fabric of his t-shirt. “I didn’t think I was gonna survive another night without you.” You said with a slight giggle, making him laugh.

“Well now you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, pressing a peck to your lips.

Before you could pull him back to your lips, your moment was interrupted. “We get it, you guys are cute. Whatever. Can we get hugs from our favorite girl?” Irv joked, pulling your attention to the group of guys near the couches in the room.

One of the things you loved most about being with Colson was how accepting his friends were of you. Slim and you had bonded over your love of music production and mixing, Baze had taught you some more complicated bass riffs, and Rook was your designated adventure buddy (after Colson, of course). You felt lucky that your boyfriend’s family had taken you in as one of their own.

You ran over to them, giving each of the guys a hug. When you hugged Ashleigh, she whispered in your ear, “don’t ever leave me alone with these lunatics again.” You both giggled at that, leaving the boys confused.

After messing around backstage for a while and catching up with your friends (mostly from the comfort of Colson’s lap), it was time for the guys to perform. You set up your spot side-stage with Ash, Irv, and Andre, excited to see the set.

Before he went on, Colson came over to you and pulled you in for a very giddy kiss. Pre-show Colson was your favorite Colson, except for maybe post-show Colson, only because he was so excitable. Every time you sat show side, he demanded you give him a good luck kiss. No matter who was watching.

Watching him was magical, in fact watching all the boys was magical. The way their passion showed through the music and the performance was something that not many other artists could perfect. You felt like you’d never match their level of performing.

When Colson brought out his acoustic guitar and two bar stools, you were a bit taken aback. Normally his shows were so high energy that he never wanted to sit down, even during the slower songs. It wasn’t really his style.

“I wanted to bring out a very special guest today to help slow this down a bit.” He said to the crowd as they screamed. “I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, but I figured today would be the perfect time to do it.”

He looked over at you, a smile on his face. It finally registered in his mind that he was talking about your song. Luckily, you’d had ears put in at the beginning of the show, so that wasn’t an issue. One of the venue’s techs handed you a microphone and signaled you to go on stage.

Once you came in view of the audience they erupted into another round of cheers, making you smile. Colson met you halfway and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. He led you over to the chairs, letting you sit down while he adjusted his mic stand. “For those of you who don’t know, not that there should be anyone who doesn’t know who this is, but just in case, this is Y/S/N. We wrote this song a little over a year ago today.”

You smiled as he started to strum the familiar intro, the lights dimming just a little bit.

Drownin’ in empty space.

You started singing.

Don’t even know my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

It’s okay

Rook brought the drum beat in as Colson smiled at you, his verse starting

Yeah

I was drownin’ in this darkness

Feeling like I was so heartless

All these drugs makin things harder

They tried to turn me to a martyr

You loved watching him party on stage, but you loved watching this side of him, too. Completely stripped down and raw. Hearing him rap the words you wrote together made your heart flutter, even if you’d written them so long ago.

I can’t handle shit I’m just a man

I tried to tell ‘em, they don’t understand

Riptide’s pulling me away from land

I couldn’t stand till you reached out your hand

And now I can.

The rest of the music came in, the sounds mixing as you began the chorus.

Drownin’ in empty space

Don’t even my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

The key raised.

Out on the open sea

Feel your eyes watching me

Wanted to fall asleep

Now I believe.

The music kept playing, but Colson’s rap didn’t enter like it was supposed to. Instead, he just looked at you, a fond smile on his face. You tilted your head, questioning him, but he just placed his guitar on the ground and kept looking at you.

“I just want to let everyone here know, that today is my one-year anniversary with this amazing woman right here.” He said into the mic, causing the audience to burst into screams. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening.

He caught your expression and laughed but kept going. “It wasn’t a secret that we’ve been together, but we’ve been quiet about it. But I mean, like, fuck that shit. When you’re in love you should tell everyone, right?”

You smiled at him, your heart picking up speed. “And Y/N I am so fucking in love with you.”

You looked down, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks and the idiotic grin you were sporting. You had never expected this from him. “Like, seriously, this past year has been the best year of my life. Even when we aren’t together you are the one thing that I look forward to the most, every day. You are one of the best things in my life, and I want everyone to know that.”

During his little monologue he had walked over to your chair and pulled you up into his arms. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, making him laugh. He pulled the microphone away from you both so it wouldn’t pick up your conversation.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you complied. “I love you.”

You had tears in your eyes as you studied his perfect features, “I love you, too.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while I just…”

“I know, princess.” He smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips together in a sweet, passionate kiss. The audience erupted in applause, cheers, and awes. “Are you gonna say anything?” He asked once you’d pulled away, motioning to the audience with a smile on his face. You shook your head, burying it back in his chest and laughing. He spoke into the microphone, “she got all shy now.”

The crowd laughed with him, shouting supportive comments at you both. “But she said she loves me too so that’s all that matters.” He continued, earning even more cheers.

After the show, Colson came backstage and immediately attached his lips to yours, hands holding you close. You pulled him into one of the unused dressing rooms, mouths never leaving each other. He hoisted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, and leaned your back against the mirror.

Finally, he released your lips from his, making you whine. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about all this, but after last night I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. And you just looked so pretty out there that I-“ You cut him off with a kiss, lips moving together slowly.

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Colson, I loved it. I was hella embarrassed because the first time you told me you loved me was in front of thousands of people, but I loved it. And I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a peck to your lips. “How much do you love me?” He asked, slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing something was up. “Depends on your next statement.”

A laugh fell from his mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Because I really hope it’s a lot.”

“What are you doing?” You asked him, giggling.

He lifted the lid off of the box to reveal a key with your first initial painted on one side and a C on the other. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to maybe think about moving in with me, now you have a key.” He smiled as you took the metal in your hands.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, lips open in shock. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you?” You confirmed.

“Only if you want to. But yes.”

You smiled, looking back down to the key and then up to his face before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your waist. “Of course, I want to, dummy.” You giggled and reconnected your lips.

“We’re supposed to go out and celebrate the last night of tour tonight, you’re gonna come, right?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You act like I don’t wanna be around you.” You pushed his chest playfully. “But we might be a couple minutes late.” You smirk.

Colson raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah? And why is that?”

Instead of responding you just giggled and pulled him back into a kiss.

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hypnolurker · 1 year ago

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Silly Bunny

ORIGINAL IMAGE FOUND HERE