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kiribaku-queen · 2 years ago

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His Hidden Desire [4]

Romance, adventure, drama, angst

Bakugou x reader, Todoroki x reader

Word Count: 6.1K

A/N: Wow, hello! I'm back! Just an update: I am now living in Japan! So ive been off for a while trying to get packed, get situated in this new country. I am 2 weeks into my new job but it looks like i can work on my writing on my down times. to make up for how long ive been away, i am back with a fairly long chapter. id love to know your thoughts and if you would like to be added on the tag list! <3

Summary: Being engaged to a Prince that doesn’t want you was such a classic move, but it was your duty to do so. But that didn’t mean you could be your own personality. You wanted something outside of the palace walls, something that would excite your world, something more. The only solution to that was to… travel with pirates?!

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“What’s the mission?” you ask, looking away and folding your arms across your chest.

You would soon find out from the fact Captain Bakugou dragged you out to where all the other crew members were, waiting for the meeting to begin. You tried avoiding any form of eye contact, suddenly embarrassed by what happened earlier. Not like you cared what they thought about you, but you’d rather not hear about what they had to say. The Captain clears his throat as he stations himself in front of the crowd, getting everyone’s attention on him.

“Alright, men. New job, pretty simple: returning stolen jewelry.” That’s it? That’s the mission the Captain begged on his knees for? It seemed like a simple enough task that you didn’t need to be involved in at all. But Bakugou continued. He lifted up the scroll, given to him by the hawk, showing a mugshot of the man in question.

“Suspect: Sebastian Grey. Pretty famous here, a member of the Phantom Knights. Mid 40’s, 5’9”, brown hair that’s starting to gray on the sides,” Bakugou read off the scroll, having no care in the world.

“Fat,” someone chimed in, causing a bit of laughter to erupt from the crowd of men. Disregarding the immature behavior, Bakugou continued on with the suspect's profile.

“Notorious for stealing and blowing the money on many, many… women,” Bakugou finished, glancing up in your direction. You gulped. Great, so this old man is crazy about women. “That’s where you come in.”

“What do you want me to do?” you asked, chills ran up your spine just imagining what you had to do, letting your imagination run wild. And not in a good way.

“Your job is to get close to him and find out where the watch is. Find out, report back to us and we’ll do the rest.” Bakugou explained. It sounded simple enough, but was life ever that simple? Especially on this ship with this crew? You took another look at the hideous man before making your decision. And your decision was…

“No.” you said.

“What?” Bakugou asked, baffled, not thinking you were going to decline. “I thought you were already on board?”

“I only came to see what the mission was. I didn’t give you a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. And after finding out what you were going to put me through, my answer is ‘no’.” you explain.

“I have no one else to do this,” Bakugou almost sounded desperate. True, there was no other lady on this ship but that doesn’t mean you have to automatically help them.

“Get one of your men to disguise themselves,” you suggested.

“We already tried that,” Kirishima spoke up. “That actually gets us in more trouble.” Everyone snickers and looks at Denki who covers his face in embarrassment.

“I don’t need to be reminded,” he mumbles, face as red as the sun. No way, you thought. Now that they pointed it out, Denki in a blonde wig isn’t a bad sight.

“You’re one of my men now, you have no choice but to do this,” Bakugou spoke up, deciding for you. You scoffed at him, actually putting your foot down and standing up to him.

"Again with these commands! I am NOT one of your men who you can just boss around!” you had to remind him, raising your voice above his. Bakugou opened his mouth to say something snarky, but didn’t want to go down this road again. As much as he didn’t want to, he didn’t talk back. He sighs, putting his hands on his hips, not knowing what to do.

“What do you want me to do now?” he asks while ruffling his hair in annoyance. “I already begged on my knees for you.”

“Do it again,” you tell him. “In front of everyone. Do it.” With no hesitation, one knee falls to the floor, followed by the other one.

“I need your help. Just this once, will you help me?” Bakugou humiliates himself in front of his men for your sake. This man continues to surprise you and you hate to admit it, but it’s a little admirable. You pretend to think, looking up with your lips pursed.

“On one condition,” you say. “You will treat me with respect. That is all I ask for.” The crew glances from you, to their Captain, then back to you. The Captain was real quiet, not being able to say anything. And you thought he was going to decline your offer. Tough luck. Then they will have to find someone else. You were about to head back to your cabin and then you heard his soft words.

“I’ll do my best,” he murmurs. Bakugou wasn’t feeling too good, but you showed a triumphant smile, one that was almost too prideful. That answer satisfied you enough that you agreed to do this silly mission. How bad could it be?

After long, long weeks of being in the ocean, you finally spotted land from where you were on the ship. You couldn’t get more excited! How you missed being on the sturdy ground and being surrounded by people other than these pirates. Although, it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. You thought pirates were dirty and smelly, living and eating like pigs. If you were caught anywhere near a pirate, you’d end up smelling exactly like them for the rest of your life… or so you’ve read. But surprisingly, the boys kept their spaces neat. It was messy from time to time, but overall, they presented themselves pretty neatly for being pirates. Even if life on the ship wasn’t as bad as they said in the books, you still couldn’t wait to feel the ground underneath your feet. You needed a change of environment and a possible escape route. Your end goal never escaped your mind. You just needed a perfect time to do it.

The giant ship reached the end of the port, letting down its heavy anchor into the ocean tides. They finally let down the heavy, wooden board, allowing everyone to get off the ship. Step by step, you made your way out into freedom, stretching your arms wide and feeling the open air. Giddiness riled inside you, as well as everyone else as they were all discussing what they were going to buy or do with the allowance they were given by the Captain.

“Don’t get distracted. Remember to meet up at the tavern so we can get this over with,” Captain Bakugou reminded his crew but they looked too busy already running down the streets with each other. You, on the other hand, were looking around, fascinated to be out of the country for the first time. This looked nothing like your country. The colors were more vibrant, there was more use of patterns and textures. The feel of the place was completely different and you couldn’t believe you actually liked it. Before you could get too absorbed into your surroundings, someone took your arm, taking you by surprise. You jumped, looking behind you, only to see the Captain tying a rope over your wrist.

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed, trying to get your wrist out of his grasp, but he was holding onto you firmly.

“Making sure you don’t try to run away,” he nonchalantly says. Then he shows you his wrist that showed the other end of the rope tied on his wrist.

“This is so ridiculous,” you pointed out.

“A precaution,” he described. You just rolled your eyes at him. Well, so much for your escape plan. But regardless, you didn’t want to spend all your free time with this guy. He probably wasn’t even going to do anything fun. It was probably going to be boring until the mission started.

“I thought you were going to start showing me some respect,” you muttered under your breath, but enough for Bakugou to hear.

“After the mission is successful, then I’ll follow through,” he said.

“That wasn’t part of the agreement,” you argued.

“Never said it didn’t,” he argued back. Shit, he got you there. So, you had no choice but to stay with him the entire time. Great.

“What are we going to do now, oh scary Captain! Sit back and do nothing while everyone else is having fun?” You couldn’t be more sarcastic. Bakugou wasn’t quick to answer you. He started to walk. You were reluctant to, but because of the damn rope that was tied to both of you, you let him take you who knows where.

“We’re going shopping,” he announced. Now that perked your ears.

“Shopping?”

Bakugou was lazily slouching down on one of the couches that was provided for him while he waits for you to try on this dress. But it was taking you an abnormally long time and his patience was running low.

“Are you done yet,” he finally asks, after waiting for an eternity.

“These corsets are not easy to put on, you know!” you bite back, moving the curtain aside, revealing a brand new dress. And not the prettiest dress you might add. The dress reached past yours knees, frills everywhere, your curves were nowhere to be found. The color was horrendous, not suiting your skin tone at all. You don’t even know where he found this dress to begin with. And Bakugou seemed to agree with you. A scowl appeared on his face, like he couldn’t look at you a second more.

“Hideous,” he commented.

“Wow, thanks,” you said, sarcastically. From the couch, he threw you another dress. You barely caught it due to his lack of throwing skills.

“Try it,” he simply demanded. Yeah, like you couldn’t guess what he wanted you to do. You shot him a dirty look before going right back into the changing room. It was better than the first one, no doubt. The dress was shorter in the front, above the knees this time and had a longer back. You wore a white blouse underneath that had puffy sleeves. The corset wasn’t too tight but at least showed your figure this time. Although, it was very modest in the bust area, covering everything. It was nice? Nicer than the one you owned currently. But for Bakugou, he didn’t seem satisfied.

“Not enough,” he said, throwing you another dress. Annoyed, but didn’t say anything, you went right back in. You put the dress up to your body and tilted your head in surprise. Wow, this was…

You pulled back the curtain for the last time, looking away from the staring man with a shy stance, slowly trying to cover yourself. The dress was much shorter than the other dresses you’ve worn, probably in your entire life. It stopped right below your butt. If you bent down, you were sure everyone could see what they aren’t supposed to see. The corset was properly tight, accentuating your curves in all the right places. The sleeves were full length and puffy which was nice because of the coverage. But the bust area… it was tight and low, the mounds of your breasts were practically spilling out. You felt so exposed that you didn’t know what to cover up first. And it didn’t help that the pirate in front of you was full on stare mode.

“Well… aren’t you going to say anything?” your face was beet red, quickly wanted his opinion so that you could go ahead and take this off. Hopefully he would say no and just give you another dress to wear, but on the contrary.

“Yeah, I’d fuck you,” he nodded in approval and got up. You couldn’t even get a word in when he put a handful of coins on the counter and took your hand, leading you out the door.

“Shouldn’t I change first?” you asked, pulling your arm back so he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re wearing it out. Let’s go,” he says, and leads you back out into the streets, not forgetting about the rope. You really thought he forgot about it but nope. He was already tying your hands together.

“Is this really necessary?” you complained.

“Yes.” Was his only response. You could mumble and grumble all you wanted, but Captain was being so stubborn!

“But it’s too tight,” you complained under your breath. Bakugou paused, and glanced at the redness of your wrists. They were red and swollen from the rope rubbing against you. Bakugou sighed and retied the rope, making it much looser but enough where you couldn’t slip your hand through.

“Better?” he asks, while tying his own wrist.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. That was only nice of him to do that. You didn’t think he could take into account your feelings ever. He didn’t care about you. Especially not since of all the backtalking you’ve done to him in the past couple days. So why would he do such a kind gesture to you?

“Ready to go?” Bakugou asked. You were so in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized he was already done tying his wrist together.

“For what?” you asked.

“It’s time,” he hinted and immediate nerves hit your stomach.

“Shit, already?” you were distressed. Bakugou looked a little worried but there was no time for pep talk. If you guys don’t move fast, they could miss their opportunity window.

After a short walk, both you and Bakugou entered the busy tavern. The place was crowded with people, you two almost couldn’t fit in. You two had to stick really close together, basically body on body. Which was probably better because it was easier to fit in and easier for Bakugou to go over last minute reminders for you. Bakugou placed a hand behind you and brought you closer to him.

“What are you-” you were about to push him away but you felt the pressure from your wrists being released. Bakugou was taking the rope off.

“Easy,” Bakugou spoke in your ear. He could speak as loud as he wanted because the surrounding space was already drowning you guys out. “Target, far left corner.” Your eyes scanned the sea of people and surely enough, in the far left corner of the room, sitting at the bar was the man in the photographs. He was already drunk, having several beer glasses already empty next to him. “Remember what to do?” he asks you.

“Flirt my way to get him to tell me where the watch is,” you repeated what they wanted you to do.

“Good girl,” he praised you, which lowkey made you feel good about yourself. Maybe this task wouldn’t be as hard as you were making it out to be. “The boys are everywhere. If anything happens, one of us will come get you.” He reassured you. It was true. Anywhere you looked, you found someone from the crew there. They were all dispersed in different parts of the tavern. Some were in the back, simply watching. Some went to the bar to get a drink in disguise. Some were sitting at a table on standby. Since they were everywhere, you felt reassured that one of the boys would come rescue you if you needed it.

“What does the watch look like?” you asked.

“Big, golden watch with diamonds encrusted all around the band,” Bakugou described.

“Pretty fancy,” you muttered. Even for someone of royalty status. Then this watch must be worth lots of money. No wonder they took this job. Well, it was now or never. You took a deep breath and made your way over to the man. Bakugou watched from afar, giving a look to a couple of the guys, purposely telling them with his eyes to stay close to you. As you walk closer to your target, you notice some of the guys, Kirishima and Denki in particular. You tried to give them a nervous smile, but all you noticed from them were their dropped jaws, hanging off their face. You rolled your eyes. Men.

You sat next to the man in question. So far, he hadn’t noticed you in the slightest. And honestly you were okay with that for now. He reeked of alcohol. He’s belligerent, laughing and talking obnoxiously loud. You raised your hand, getting one of the bartender's attention.

“One beer, please,” you ordered. You had to blend in some way, not just sit at the bar doing nothing. A jug of beer was placed in front of you and boy, was it a hefty jug. Upon receiving your large order, then did you finally get some of the man’s attention.

“Sure you can hold your liquor, little one?” he turns to you, giving you some attention. You smirked. You grabbed the jug with both hands, downing the beer in one go, proving him wrong. With a loud thud to the table, you slammed the empty glass down with a satisfying burp to come with it. Now the man’s attention was fully on you. And interestingly enough, so was the Captain from across the room.

“Name’s Sebastian. Sebastian Grey.” He introduced himself, offering his hand.

“(y/n),” you introduced yourself, taking his hand out of kindness. You were about to take your hand back, but he gripped it a little tighter, bringing your hand to his lips, and placing the wettest, nastiest kiss on the back of your hand. It took everything in you to not have a physical reaction of shivers. You took your hand back, giving Sebastian a fake smile before placing your hand behind you and aggressively wiped anything and everything off your hand. No matter how disgusted you were at the situation, the show must go on.

“What’s a handsome man like you doing here all alone!” you got closer to him, placing a flirty hand on his arm. “Allow me to join you for the night.” You insisted, sending him a playful wink and squishing your chest together, making your tits pop even more out of the shirt. You saw Sebastian glance down and lick his lips.

“Only if you allow me to indulge in this majesty of a sight,” he practically drooled over you. You wanted to scoff at how blunt he was. No manners of a gentleman at all. It truly disgusted you. And it was written all over your face. If you could, you’d turn around and walk right out of this place. But when you looked up, looking disgusted, you met eyes with the Captain and he was telling you to continue no matter what it took with his eyes. And so, you must continue.

“AHAHAHAHA! You are SO funny!” you faked an obnoxious laugh, slapping his arm. That seemed to really do it.

“Around round for me and the lady!” he announced to the bartender, waving his hand in the air. And with that, another glass of beer was thrown at you to chug down. The entire night, you boosted his ego. Telling him how he’s so funny and handsome, anything to make him laugh and feel good about himself. You watched as spit flew everywhere every time he talked. Every time he laughed, he’d bend back, exposing his stomach that overfilled under that small thing he called a shirt. You wondered how you were even able to stand such a man for so long. He was obnoxious, sexist, conceited, self-centered. Everything a woman wouldn’t want. Was this really the world you were living in? And he drank like that of a pirate. You would know. You were around them 24/7 lately. And he didn’t look a tad bit drunk. He kept drinking and drinking, but the alcohol wasn’t hitting him. It was like he was drinking water. You couldn’t drink anymore. You had to get information out of him fast.

“Tell me, what’s a handsome and hunky man like yourself doing with no ring around his finger?” you mentally rolled your eyes at yourself.

“Who needs a woman when you can have all the riches in the world!” he boasted.

“What could be more rich than the richness of love?” you batted your eyelashes. Gross! Were these words really coming out of your mouth? Where did you even come up with the words to even say this? You really should take up acting because right now, you were a totally different person that you didn't even know was hiding in you.

“I’ll show you,” he gets closer to you in a deep whisper, not preparing you for how dreadful and horrid his breath was. You had to suck in the air around you and hold your breath until he was out of your scent range. This was proven to be difficult because he was not separating from you any time soon. You watched as he took out something from his pocket, both hands covering the item, careful for no one to see. He brought it in front of him, both of your bodies shielding the item from all who was around you. Slowly, he opened the palm of his hands, unveiling a watch. A golden watch with a band that was encrusted with diamonds. Your jaw dropped open. That was…

“A watch that can fulfill the wish of any man or woman. A watch that can make you rich beyond your wildest imagination!” he fantasized.

You couldn’t say anything. You continued to stare at the treasure in front of you. No shot he actually had it with him this entire time. And he was taking it out like no one else had their eyes out for this?! This man was a stupid man. Hopefully stupid enough that you could possibly grab it from him without him knowing. It wasn’t the plan and this wasn’t what you were supposed to be doing, but if it could get you the respect you’ve been looking for from the Captain and everyone else, you were going to risk it.

You glanced up from Sebastian’s eyes to the watch, then back at him, slowly reaching for the watch while he was distracted in his silly stories. But everything backfired when you felt a large, sweaty hand creep up your thigh. Chills ran up the back of your spine, so much so that you had a physical reaction. Nothing you were doing tonight was part of the plan, but you were going to make sure that you weren’t going to have sex with this man. So, you tried backing away, moving your legs in the opposite direction, but he was surprisingly strong, overpowering you instantly. His grip tightened on your leg so the point where you couldn’t move.

“But now that I have the treasure, I wouldn’t mind now finding a lucky lady to join me on my riches,” he breathed down your neck, making you feel filthy and disgusting.

God, you wanted to escape. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t move. Was it because of his unruly grip or were you frozen in fear? Your eyes widened in fear and anxiety was bubbling up inside of you. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe and your mind wasn’t working anymore. Were you in trouble? What were you supposed to do again? What was your next move? None of the boys knew how distressed you were. Afterall, all the action was happening under the table, where they couldn’t see.

That’s when your eyes flickered across the room, desperately searching for familiar eyes if you could even concentrate properly. It was then, did you see a pair of electric, golden eyes. Your face was scrunched into distress and fear, a face he had never seen you make before. It didn't take him longer than a millisecond to react. He snapped up from his chair, tapping his mate next to him. They didn't have to exchange words for both of them to know what to do next. A cue was motioned the second they stood up and soon, everyone else’s attention turned to you. They got the hint. You needed help.

Denki shot a look at Bakugou. The Captain, who was slouching against the wall with his head tilted down, shot up with a mean frown. It didn’t take an idiot to understand that a rescue mission was on hand. Even the real idiot of the group could get that. The crew was making their way to you, but right when they had you in their grasp, other men in the tavern simultaneously got up and blocked every single one man of the crew.

At first, they thought it was some kind of coincidence. But when one of the pirates moved to get out of their way, the man blocking him moved with him. Shit. These weren’t just some random drunks. They were men of Sebastian. They were here all along, waiting for them. And they fell right in their trap.

“Best not get in the way,” Bakugou muttered to the oversized fellow standing in his way of you.

“You should do the same,” the oversized fellow talked back. Bakugou didn’t like the man’s attitude, only furthering the Captain’s irritation.

“If you don’t want to make a scene, I suggest you sit back down and mind ya business,” Bakugou warned.

“I don't back down from a challenge,” the man sized him up. Bakugou smirked with a glistening eye.

“Is that so?” With a ‘shwing’ of his metal, Bakugou unshielded his sword, the tip right in between the eyes of his enemy. “Challenge accepted.”

Desperate times call for desperate measures and that’s how desperate Bakugou was to get to you. Unsheathing his sword should have been the last resort, because look at the results of what happened. Those who were not from either party were now screaming and running away. The place was becoming chaotic, full of fear and danger. But now, they can get to the fun stuff.

On cue, his other men followed their Captain, taking out whatever weapon they concealed within their clothes and clashed with their enemies. The sound of metal hitting each other filled the air, screams of agony rang in your ears, and yet, you were still frozen where you were. Everyone right now was doing their job, you can’t just do nothing.

“Let go of me!” you decided to scream, reaching for Sebastian’s hand that was going higher and higher, but his grip was too tight for you to do any real damage.

“Come on, come upstairs with me,” he insisted, now leaning forward, looking as if to kiss you. But you kept bending back and back and back, closing your eyes, ready for the inevitable. Until you felt a significant amount of pressure finally being released off you. You peeked through the thick of your eyelashes to find a bush of blonde hair blocking your view.

“What the! Who the fuck are you!” your target is furious, demanding answers on why some random person was cockblocking him. When you were busy trying to get away from the creepy man, Bakugou was already fighting someone else. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to be able to get to you in time with this guy in the way. This guy was strong. No matter how much Bakugou was forcing him back, the guy was giving back with equal amounts of force. That’s it. He’ll just have to kill this man to make him get out of the way. Bakugou swung his sword up with all intention to unalive this man, when one of the other pirates slipped his way in front of Bakugou, clashing swords with their enemy. Reminding himself that he’ll thank him later, Bakugou quickly passes all the fighting, barely dodging the dangerous flying of metal to get to you.

So when he’s coming to you and sees Sebastian’s dirty hands all over you and your face is twisted in disgust, he doesn’t hesitate to grab the man’s arm and twist it backwards, causing Sebastian to cry in pain. The man was too busy trying to comfort his injured arm to see Bakugou grab your hand in the midst of his distraction. To where? Bakugou didn’t know either. He just took your hand and ran until he finally found a door. Perfect escape route. Or so he thought.

When both of you ran through the door, it was not the outside breeze you were met with. Instead, you found yourselves in a small, concealed space with a dirty toilet and sink.

“Shit,” Bakugou cursed under this breath. He quickly shut the door behind you and blocked it with whatever he could find. Running right behind you was Sebastian and he was right on your tail. Bakugou had to think fast. He quickly scanned the room, looking down and then up. Luck was on your side. There was a window leading straight out onto the streets. Bakugou climbed on top of the toilet and ran his shoulder into the window.

“Shit, it’s stuck,” he grunted, still using all his force to break up the window over and over again. All you could do was watch anxiously on the side. The anxiety didn’t stop because all of a sudden, you heard banging on the other side of the bathroom door which made you scream in fright.

“Open up you coward!” Sebastian yelled. Even though there was something to block the door, with enough strength, he was able to get it slightly open with every shove.

“He’s coming in!” you cried, urging Bakugou to rush. And he was trying his best. Grunting with powerful shoves. At last, Bakugou managed to open the stubborn window and he made his way through the window and jumped down onto the busy night streets.

“Come on!” he called out to you. For a second, you hesitated. The thought of getting on that disgusting toilet was preventing you from escaping. But Sebastian pushed one last time, managing to open the bathroom door even more, allowing himself to slightly get in. That was enough to scare the shit out of you and you quickly rushed to get on the toilet and out the window. When you finally saw the outside streets, you were about to jump just like how the Captain did it. But Bakugou reached out his hand, waiting for you to take it. With no time to waste, you took it and with his other hand, grabbed your waist to hold you steady and prevent you from falling flat on your face. You stumbled at little, but Bakugou got you, pulling you into him when you fully got on the concrete floor. Being so close to his chest made you feel a little flustered but now was not the time to get caught in some childish feelings.

Still holding your hand, you ran away together. You didn’t know where and you didn’t care, as long as you got far away from Sebastian and his men as possible. Bakugou trusted in his men that they would take care of the mess they made.

So, you ran and ran, until you were both out of breath. When you were at a safe enough distance, Bakugou pulled you into a dark and empty alleyway in case someone was still chasing you, you’d be able to hide. You allowed your back to rest against the cold, brick wall, your chest heaving up and down with deep and slow breaths. It almost hurt to even breathe with how much running you were doing. You had closed your eyes to concentrate on catching your breath but Bakugou had other plans. You shot your eyes open as he grabbed the side of your face and brought you closer to him. You opened your mouth, intending on asking what the fuck he was doing but he beat you to it.

“You okay?” he asks, like he was concerned. He talked as if he wasn’t running for his life just seconds ago. He wasn’t out of breath, he didn’t even look tired. For a second, you didn’t know how to respond to this version of the Captain. You were used to him being a stubborn, didn’t-care-about-anyone type of guy. And now, he looked so concerned and so worried. And to you out of all people?

“Ah… Mm, I’m fine,” you responded, now looking down at the ground because his stare was too intense. Bakugou sighed with relief but was quickly replaced with frustration. He backed off you to roughly ruffle his hair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It’s part of the job, right?” you tried to play it off like it was nothing, but it surely was not nothing. With all the adrenaline running through your veins, you hadn’t realized you were shaking. You had never gone through an experience quite like that before. And for someone to just touch you the way he touched you… you glanced down at your thigh, the exact position where his hands were, and you got chills. He wasn’t touching you anymore but you could still feel the weight on his palm slowly creeping up on you. No matter how many times you tried to wipe it away, that feeling never left you. There was a constant feeling of dirtiness that you couldn’t get rid of.

“No, no. Fuck! It wasn’t supposed to go that far. Shit, sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.” he kept apologizing over and over again. Like his guilty conscience was taking over.

“It was my fault it went that far,” you admitted.

“It doesn’t matter. We were supposed to be there to get you out. We were supposed to protect you. Fuck… I-I was supposed to…” he trailed off, blaming himself for what happened. “It was your first mission. I should have paid more attention. I’m sorry…”

Ideally, it wasn’t the best first mission. And it definitely didn’t go as how you planned it in your head. But you were about to respond to the very distressed Bakugou, but then both of you heard screaming in the distance. You looked up and saw the rest of the pirate crew running your way… and more people behind them?

“Run! Get to the ship!” Kirishima yelled, waving his hands at you to get a move on. Bakugou cursed under his breath once again. You thought he was going to run without you, but he stuck his hand out.

“Come on,” he said more gently. You nodded in affirmation, taking his hand and he led you back in the direction of the ship.

You and the crew laid on the floor of the deck, exhausted for the night. It was a close call when everyone got on board. You barely managed to escape with Sebastian and his men right on your tails. You all watched as his men yelled at you guys from the dock, able to do nothing but scream and shout and express their anger while you managed to escape on water. They would have laughed and bragged in their faces, but the deep disappointment that everyone felt weighed heavy. They had failed their mission. They weren’t able to retrieve the watch that they so desperately needed. Bakugou stood in front of everyone with hands on his hips. No, he was not happy with the outcome but what could be done?

“I know what you’re all thinking,” he starts out.

“We failed,” someone chirped up.

“Big time,” someone else chimed in. You looked around at all their discouraged faces. Their heads down in shame, some had their eyes covered. You’ve never seen them so down before. What was once a cheerful and energetic crew was now quiet and saddened.

“We can still get it back,” Bakugou said. But that didn’t seem to encourage them at all. In fact, they were all negative about the fact.

“How! All his goons know who we are. There’s no way we can pull something like that off again, without getting caught.” Denki spoke up.

“What plan did you have in mind?” Kirishima asked, trying to be optimistic. But you jumped up before Bakugou could say anything.

“We don’t need another plan,” you mention and you swear, everyone was looking at you like you were crazy.

“Yes, we do. We failed this time but that doesn’t mean we are giving up on the mission,” Bakugou explained. But no one was prepared for what you were about to do. You reached in your pocket and everyone’s eyes bulged out of their heads when they saw the gold watch being pulled. Bakugou grabbed the watch from you, bewildered, while the whole crew cheers in the background.

“How did you…”

“Ah, I grabbed it while he was distracted trying to kiss me,” you explained sheepishly. It was quick and it was a risky move, but you managed to pull it off. Partially another reason why they were after you and not just because a woman he wanted to sleep with got away. Bakugou smirked and looked at you very impressed. You were able to pull of something unimaginable. And for that, not only was Bakugou impressed, but now he wanted you as one of his men. He wanted you on the ship as a regular pirate.

A/N: love to hear your thoughts after a long time being away! I know this story isnt getting lots of traction or attention but im still going to finish this story till the end! I am also working on spicy one shot soon! With kirishima and denki ooooooh

Taglist: @superblyspeedydragon @pluviophilefangirl @chixkadee @kinba-ri @ahmya-4

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bnha imagines #bnha bakugou katsuki

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miyagihawk · 4 years ago

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“idfc; blackbear (again it’s so easily related to hawk vibes, maybe he’s afraid to open up again for a relationship after moon so he acts like he doesn’t care about the reader but the mfs actually so in love😩✋🏻)” - @hawkwhore

ugh i love this sm and blackbear 😛 ty for the request as always <3

idfc | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: just cursing?

summary: based on idfc by blackbear :) hawk doesn’t like you and you don’t know why

a/n: soooo i kinda strayed from the song LOL sorry but this is kinda more cutesy and less angsty than the song. i actually like it though :)

You don’t know why he seemed to hate you.

Ever since you walked into the dojo for the first time, it was like you couldn’t escape his death stare.

Eventually, you got closer to Miguel, his best friend, so you two started going to the same parties and hanging out more often. But he never seemed to warm up to you.

Miguel said Hawk was just intimidated by you because you always beat him when Sensei calls you both to spar. So you let him win one time, but he seemed to hate you even more after.

Which is why you started Operation Get Hawk To Like Me.

It seemed like a fun challenge to get the broody boy to enjoy your company, but you also sincerely wanted to be friends with him. When he would laugh with Miguel and he smiled like the sun, it made you sad that he was so cold towards you but so warm towards others. You wanted the sun.

You decided that the first part of O.G.H.T.L.M was to subtlety be nicer; you didn’t want to be desperately kind out of nowhere and make him dislike you even more.

“Hey!” you called after the red haired boy who was about to open the door to the dojo.

Hawk turned around slowly at the sound of your voice, and you winced at the annoyed look on his face.

“I- uh, I got this for you,” you held out a blueberry smoothie. When everyone hung out at Golf N Stuff, you saw that he got that flavor and took a mental note.

The boy stood in front of you with a twisted face, not reaching out to take the drink. “Why?” he asked.

You shifted awkwardly, feeling nervous under his stare. Was this too forward? “Um... I accidentally got an extra one?” you made the excuse lamely. “Just take it.”

“Give it to Miguel,” Hawk turned around and sauntered into the dojo, leaving you with a frown. But you wiped off any trace of your disappointed expression and walked into practice too.

You tried everything.

You waved at him every time you passed each other in the halls. You got him drinks at parties and you even offered to be the designated driver so that he could get wasted with Miguel.

When you two sparred, you lost on purpose each time. Sensei even pulled you aside to ask if something was wrong. “Hawk is getting better,” was all you said, but he didn’t seem convinced.

The list of things you were trying to do for Operation Get Hawk To Like Me seemed endless and you were totally kissing his ass. His feelings about you weren’t budging, and it seemed like this was just a hopeless mission.

“I just don’t get why he hates me so much. I’m trying so hard,” you groaned.

“Maybe that’s why. You’re trying too hard,” Miguel said across from you with a mouthful of fries.

“Well I don’t know what to do then. I want him to know I’m trying.”

“He knows,” your best friend nodded his head nonchalantly.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, causing Miguel to give you an amused look. “Then why doesn’t he care? I’m starting to think there’s just something wrong with me,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“You should just talk to him if it’s bothering you so much,” Miguel shrugged.

“I guess I should,” you slumped, feeling intimidated by the thought of confronting Hawk. Was it even worth it? If he didn’t want to be your friend now, then what would change if you talked to him? If he would even agree to talk.

Tonight. The final step that would determine if you were going to give up on Hawk.

The truth is, it really hurt your feelings how little he cared about you. And it hurt even more when you went out of your way to get him to even acknowledge you as an acquaintance.

You don’t know why it affected you so badly; maybe you’ve always had a teensy crush on him. And maybe this little plan you formulated was actually motivated by your subconscious desire to really get to know him, even though you passed it off as wanting to simply be his friend.

So tonight, at the party you were all going to, you were going to talk to him. And get the truth on why he was so persistent in shoving you away.

“Woah, slow down Y/N. Miss lightweight,” Miguel eyed you cautiously when you downed another cup of beer.

“I just need some liquid courage to face Hawk,” you licked your lips, already feeling the effect of the alcohol clouding your mind. You started to sway without noticing, making Miguel laugh at you amusingly.

“Well good luck with that. But that’s enough, or you won’t even get any words out,” he took the cup from you and you pouted. Miguel subtly motioned behind you, and you turned around to look.

It was the red haired boy you’ve been avoiding all night; the one who made your palms sweat when you thought about the conversation you were planning to have.

But with the alcohol giving you a rush of confidence, you walked up to him with no anxiety. His eyes widened when he saw you rushing forward, and he almost looked afraid.

“Can I talk to you?” you said solidly, feeling braver than you usually are. Hawk looked at you, confused, but nodded to his friends before following you to go somewhere quieter.

He traced behind you as you opened the door to go outside, where there were less people and the music wasn’t so loud.

“Um... is something wrong?” Hawk stood awkwardly in front of you, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Of course there’s something wrong,” you replied in a meaner tone than you intended, but you brushed off the guilt.

“Well what is it?” he asked in his usual annoyed tone that he used only when he needed to speak to you.

You felt your cheeks heat up with frustration. “Why don’t you like me?” you blurted out, and the expression on his face told you that he wasn’t prepared for it at all.

“W-What?” Hawk stuttered, his previously composed persona was gone.

“Why don’t you like me?” you repeated, more forcefully. “I am so nice to you. But you just hate me and I have no idea why! And you’re just best buds with everyone else, so I know you aren’t incapable of having friends. Do you know how shitty that feels? Especially when I try so hard to just get you to treat me decently!” your mouth ran on and on and words were coming out without you thinking.

Your blurred vision from your anger cleared after you caught your breath, and you focused on his shocked expression. It was the most expression he’s ever shown you.

“I-I-” Hawk stammered, but you cut him off.

“Look, I’ll leave you alone if you just tell me to. But tell me why, so I can give up. I’m sorry, okay? For whatever I’ve done that makes you not even want to be near me. And I don’t even know why I feel like I need you to like me, I just-”

This time he was the one to interrupt you. “I do like you.”

You blinked in confusion, taken aback by his words.

Hawk licked his lips anxiously, taking a breath in before speaking, “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a dick. The truth is... I’ve been... um... catching feelings for you. And I guess I was trying to protect myself by pushing you away.”

Your mouth dropped open at his confession. Out of all the responses you were expecting when you were overthinking about the conversation, this one was one you could have never seen coming. But surprisingly, it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat accelerate.

He continued, this time looking into your eyes with his blue ones. “I don’t hate you at all. I just... I just felt like last time I caught feelings for someone I just got hurt. And I was all in, but they weren’t. That’s why I keep myself from getting close to you. I’m sorry Y/N,” Hawk confessed his whole heart, leaving you speechless.

After barely getting a few words out of him everyday, his confession of feelings was overwhelming. But you finally understood him. You knew about his relationship with Moon and how it went down from all the school gossip, but for some reason you never pieced together that it was why his guard was up so high.

“I don’t really know what to say,” you admitted, still feeling woozy from both the alcohol and his speech. You weren’t sure about your feelings and you didn’t want to say something you didn’t mean. Yes, you had feelings for him too, but everything was going so fast.

Hawk gave you a smile that calmed you from your worry. “It’s okay, sorry. It was a lot. But if you still want we can be friends.” He reached out his hand for you to shake and confirm your partnership.

Instead of taking it, you took him by surprise by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He melted into the hug after a few seconds, and you smiled from behind his view. “Friends,” you pulled away and he beamed at you warmly.

You finally got the sun.

a/n: omg bye this was not like the song at all SORRY there wasn’t that much action it was just fluffy IVE BEEN WATCHING TOO MUCH MIRACULOUS LADYBUG like they r so soft and u can see the influence of it on my writing lmaoo anyways hope u enjoyed!! :)

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai

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vinyleee · 3 years ago

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Kisaki (25) x Reader (18+)

tw: death, guns, blood

☆*:.｡. o

you held your breath as you stood between the two burly men that escorted you in the cramped elevator. the light was dim, even so it produced a glare against the scuffed metal. flashes of vibrant lights shown in the windows from the city, green and purple scattered against the thin surface of your red dress. he had requested you wear it tonight, for it was ‘a special occasion’

“damn how much longer is this lift going to take,” one of the guards grunted out looking at the key panel as he fiddled with his gun. he traced the tip of his index finger over the sights, as if preparing himself to aim at someone.

“heh, might take a half hour more for all we know… boss ordered us to take her all the way to the penthouse so it’s not like we can just get off on the next floor.” The other guard replied rolling his shoulders back, fixing his posture.

you released your breath and looked at the guard to your right, still fixed on his gun. you studied the features of his face as he lifted the gun up to look through the sights.

“hmm what’s wrong miss.. heh.. do you want to play?” he chortled when he noticed you staring. ‘here, don’t be shy.’

he placed one large hand on the small of your back, causing you to shiver. “don’t worry im friendly…”he grinned when you put a hand out to stop him from getting to close. he saw it as an opening, he placed the pistol he had been studying in your hand.

the weight of the gun shocked you, but it felt… almost comfortable. as you wrapped your fingers around the handle the gripping rubbed against your skin. it felt natural to you.

you twisted your wrist left and right to see the different angles of the pistol. nothing was rather interesting about the pistol except for a few tally marks, you guess to mark how many victims it had killed.

“hey now what are you doing giving that to her?”the other man bit out as you raised the gun up to see yourself just what the other guard found so enticing about the gun.

“oh come on were just having fun! right little lady?”,the one who handed you the gun chuckled.

you ignored him and looked up to the ceiling, your eyes moving across the space between the dying fluorescent lights. trying to spot a camera or a microphone somewhere you stood up on the tips of your toes and traced your fingers directly above you were standing. there was a slight convex in the metal that you skimmed the tips of your fingers over.

he was watching.

you felt reassured as you brought your hand back down to your side. “here, Ive had enough fun.” you sigh handing the man his gun back.

“oh silly you.. I’m not,” he put the gun back in its holster and placed his hands on your waist. he brought you into his chest and put his nose to the top of your head, breathing in your scent.

“ugh as soon as I take over this place and kill boss, you’re gonna be mine baby…”he said tracing one hand up your exposed back, from the opening of the dress.

“what are you saying?” the other guard said as he pried his partners hands off you. “you’ve lost it haven’t you? do you know who he is? he isn’t just some wanna be gangster… he’s kisaki.”

‘kisaki.’ the word rang through your ears, and left a warmth in your cheeks as if he had just caressed your face. kisaki, your kisaki.

you relaxed instantly at the sound of his name. ‘ah let him do as he pleases.’ you raise a hand up stopping the guards from a fight that neither of them would come back from.

just then the elevator chimes. “for fucks sake about time.”

you let out an exasperated sigh as you stepped out of the elevator. behind you the two men silently cursed at each other as the followed after you.

“stay by my side”, the guard set on stealing your heart said lightly wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling out his gun once more, except this time ready to pull the trigger on anyone who threatened your safety.

the other, more collected, guard walked a few steps in front of you with his gun trained in front of him. he looked down the turns and twists of the hallways that lead to different rooms of kisakis building. he kept his back close to the wall and stuck out his gun first then his head peaked out ever so slightly around the corner.

at the end of the hall you could make out shadows of men pacing back in forth through a crack in the door. suddenly the air around you felt static, why would kisaki call you to his penthouse and have two… very unqualified guards escort you.

your head started to throb as you searched for an answer. each scenario you played out in your head led to someone dying. that was the best case. you didn’t want to think of worse ones, so you stopped to take a deep breath.

‘nothing is going to happen’ you reassured yourself. kisaki would protect you. there was nothing to fear.

as you neared the door to kisakis pent house you heard someone murmur a few distasteful things about you.

“why do you keep that bitch around, she does nothing but distract you boss. your priorities aren’t straight anymore…”

“hmm so that’s how you truly feel,” you heard kisaki laugh.

as you approached the door you pictured the expression kisaki was making as kisaki laughed. his face was probably flushed with excitement, and his eyes were probably just as piercing as ever.

you felt your breath hitch as you thought of his eyes. the way they could make you fear for your life in an instant, turned you on.

closing your eyes yet again, you imagined kisaki restraining your hands above your head and staring you down with those eyes. you imagined him pressing his knee into your dripping pussy and forcing you against the wall.

“ehem”, the guard who had been swatting through turns of each hallway cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

“hm what is it”, you turned around to face him after he whisked you away from your fantasy.

“we should go inside now before kisaki gets upset that we took so long…” the corners of his eyes squinted as he winced, imagining what would happen to him if he didn’t follow kisakis orders.

“ok then, shall we?” you straighten your shoulders and fix your hair before gently pushing the thick double doors open.

“boss I just think you should…never mind, if you’ll excuse me.” the man who spoke ill of you muttered stepping to the right to avoid coming into contact with the opening doors.

as the doors swung open and the two guards walked into the penthouse you took in as much of the room as possible.

the entire penthouse was made up of windows. lights from the city flooded in making the use of no lights seem rather understandable. kisaki leaned against a mahogany desk directly across from you. his arms folded over his pinstripe vest, his sleeves rolled up exposing the veins from his hands to his forearms. the purple and green lights that had danced across your dress in the elevator now illuminated kisakis figure.

“no,” kisaki gritted through his teeth at the man who wanted so desperately to leave after bad mouthing you. “you stay, and you my darling come here” he raised one finger up and curled it back, beckoning you.

you let out a shaky breath as you stepped forward, your hands bunching up pieces of the red dress he had requested.

“ah why so nervous sweetheart?” kisaki mocked taking long steps toward you, “you look perfect in that dress I ordered for you. as I knew you would.”

“thank you…” you said in a hushed voice, avoiding his eyes.

in a half of a second his hand was on your jaw, pulling your face towards his, “look at me when you speak to me, bitch”

you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden aggressiveness, your face flushed with heat. your head started to spin with anticipation. kisakis lips were inching closer to yours. his breath warm against your mouth.

he licked his lips and smiled as he pulled away, “ah ah ah, not just yet sweetheart we have some business to take care of.”

you shook your head and turned around to see the expressions of the ‘business’. you had known what was going to happen. you turned back around to face kisaki yet again.

he was now sitting on the desk with his legs spread and a mocking smile plastered on his face, “won’t you come sit” he patted his leg.

as you approached him you heart raced, his touch would turn you into a thoughtless animal searching for the pleasure that only he could deliver.

“good girl”, he murmured into your ear, nibbling on it a bit, when you placed yourself into his lap.

you wrapped an arm over his shoulders and placed your other hand on his chest. you ran your hands over the cloth of his vest, eventually you tugged on his tie a bit, begging him silently.

he slid his perfect hands around your waist and pulled you in closer to him. the scent of sage and liquor wafted into your nose as you put your face in the crook of his neck. he was so intoxicating.

“mmm you’re just so impatient tonight hmm” he said tracing a hand up your thigh and under you dress slipping two fingers into your panties.

“boss.” one of the guards whispered, “can we leave?”he rocked back and forth on his heels uncomfortably waiting for a response.

kisaki brought his eyes up to the men and sighed, “cant you see im busy, now be patient and wait for your orders until then.. keep your mouths shut.”

you let out a breath as he turned his attention back to you, biting your collarbone. “ah fuck,” he breathed into your neck. “i just can’t wait to be inside you.” he lifted his head and grinned at you.

you bit your lip as he placed two fingers against your dripping cunt. he rubbed soft, gentle circles into your pussy. your body twitched under his touch, your head felt light and you could feel the heat starting to rise up.

he slid his other hand from your waist directly up to the small of your back while pushing two fingers inside you. he chuckled as he felt you wrap around him in excitement. “oh you want me so bad don’t you slut?” he pushed his fingers deeper inside you. “say it and maybe I’ll give you what you want so bad”

“kisaki I want you… I want you so bad, please.” you whined out gripping his tie tightly.

“aren’t you ashamed, begging for me to fuck you in front of three strangers? mm not so lady like of you.” he said, abruptly pulling his fingers out of you and licking them.

“my apologies gentleman we should get back to business.” he lifted you off of him and placed you on the desk as he stood up. he took his time walking around to reach into a drawer, in which he pulled out a glock.

“kisaki…what’re you doing?” you asked trying to collect yourself after kisaki toyed with you.

“ah don’t worry princess just look at me, ok?” he stepped beside you grabbing your hand and training the gun to the man who had come onto you in the elevator.

“you shouldn’t have underestimated me, I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know what you did to her. offering a women a gun, have you no sense?” kisaki smiled pulling the trigger before the guard could answer in his defense.

you kept your eyes on kisaki even when you heard the guards body thump as he hit the floor. even when you knew the pool of blood that seeped from his corpse would spread out to the furniture. even still, you’re eyes never looked away from kisaki.

you squeezed your legs together when you saw kisakis smile grow and his eyes squint. the light shining in through the windows made him stand out against the darkness of the room. on your own face the light scattered onto you as well.

“now who’s next? hmm?” he chuckled moving his gun back and forth between the last two men. “you, the one bad mouthing my property, and questioning my priorities. you really are so stupid.” again he pulled the trigger. and still you kept your eyes on him. you felt heat rising up in your chest as you watched his smile grow with every person he killed.

“ah, the last man standing.” kisaki released your hand and stood up. he walked over to the last person he was yet to kill in the room. “you did well today, you followed my orders thoroughly. you can leave now. oh but one more thing, call someone to clean this mess up.” he used his gun to point at the bodies sprawled on the floor.

“y-yes sir” the last man stammered out before speeding out the door.

“finally” kisaki raised his arms up as he turns around to face you. “youve been such a good girl you deserve a reward.”

he came back to the desk where you sat cross legged waiting for him to give you the pleasure he denied you before. putting a finger out he removed a strand of hair from your eyes and put it behind your ear.

“do you know how many people I’ve ordered to kill for me? hmm you don’t think I wouldn’t kill for you? after all the things they did to you? stripping you of your clothes with their eyes. you’re mine, and I’ll kill anyone who doesn’t fucking agree. all mine princess, now I think it’s time for you to show me your appreciation. on your knees slut.”

your mouth watered as you slid down to the floor. kisaki rubbed his cock through his pants waiting for you to do as he ordered. unbuttoning his pants you moved one hand up under his shirt to feel more of him. “im getting impatient,” he whispered gripping some of your hair and pushing your face down onto his cock.

you licked circles around his tip and up his shaft, causing him to grunt and pull your hair roughly. you brought your hands up to stroke him as you sucked.

the air was filled with the sound of slurping and choking. you felt him deep in your throat, making you want more.

you’re head bobbed up and down as you picked up speed sucking and licking all around his cock. “ah fuck, just like that” he groaned out throwing his head back with pleasure. your hands came down to your pussy to touch yourself as you pleasured him. the more of a reaction you got from him the worse you needed him.

he pulled you by your hair taking your mouth of off his cock. “did I give you permission to touch yourself?” he leaned down grinning in your face.

“n-no but…” you stammered trying to find the words to say in your fuzzy head.

“then take your hands away from yourself and keep sucking you slut.” he thrusted his cock into your mouth as you brought your hands back up.

you moaned as his dick slid deeper down your throat, you did your best to lick and suck but your movements were getting sluggish from the pleasure.

“cmon,” he whined out thrusting into your mouth, “you can go a little longer. isn’t this what you wanted bitch? or would you rather be riding me right now?”

you looked up at him through watery eyes trying to beg him to give you the pleasure you needed so badly.

he pulled out of your mouth and picked you up laying you down on the table.

“youve done enough, good job princess.” he sighed kissing you lips gently before climbing on top of you. his face hung inches away from yours as he smiled, “since you were so impatient earlier I’ll give you what you want, but I cant promise I’ll be nice.”

he slid the dress of off you from your shoulders, following that he ripped off your panties and bra. he spread open your legs and licked circles around your nipples as he thrust into you.

you moaned out his name in surprise, he wasn’t going to go easy on you. you gripped the sides of the desk as he continuously thrust into your dripping pussy.

suddenly he stopped, taking off his glasses and shoving his tongue down your throat. “you’re insides feel so fucking good” he breathed as your tongues met. he sucked and bit your lip when you released the kiss for a breath, a string of saliva attached your mouths.

“ah ah ah, you don’t get any breaks.” he laughed breathlessly while groping your titties. you let out small whimpers as he slowly started to thrust into you again.

his breathing became erratic and his hands came up to your thighs as he came to his climax. “so fucking close, princess” your insides twitched around him as you neared yours as well.

you felt him twitch inside you as he came, “ah fuck” he whined out, moaning your name.

your hands came up to his face as he thrusted into you slowly, his movements becoming more sluggish. his face was flushed and wet with sweat. the slowness and sweetness of his movements felt even better then when he was going fast.

“ah kisaki…” you released onto his cock as you gripped his tie. he shoved his tongue down your throat yet again not allowing you a break from the pleasure.

“you can hold on a little longer cant you doll.” his warm breath breezed over your face as your eyes teared up once more.

“y-yeah” you gasped trying to catch your breath.

he shoved himself deeper inside you causing your back to arch and you to moan out his name. “god that’s what I wanted to hear, your pretty little voice… now I won’t stop till I have you screaming out my name.”

he placed a hand on your cheek and smiled devilishly, hearing you moan out so desperately gave him his motivation to go rough back.

your mind was flooded with pleasure as kisaki railed into you on the desk. by the end of the night all you knew was the sound of skin clapping against skin and the squelching noises of your fluids mixing with his. all you felt was kisaki inside you, so deep you could feel him in your guts.

you watched his desperate expression as he made you cum over and over again, the smile that stretched across his face every time you moaned out his name and begged him to make you cum. all you wanted was the taste of his mouth in yours. you wanted to feel his tongue in your mouth like two dancers performing a waltz.

you came over and over again to kisaki until you had nothing left. “kisaki… ah… please stop.. I cant cum anymore.”

“oh baby i know you have more in you.” he grinned as he slammed into you faster and whined as the pleasure was getting to be too much for him too.

“ah.. kisaki.. I’m gonna…” before you could get it out kisaki started sucking on your titties as he slowed down the pace.

“i thought you had nothing left.” he laughed when he felt you twitching around him again.

“i didn’t ” you whimpered, hands coming up to his back tugging on the fabric of his vest he didn’t have time to take off.

your body twitched under him as you held onto him, the pleasure wouldnt stop. slowly he pulled his sopping cock out of your twitching pussy and started leaving love bites all over you.

“ahh it still feels…” Kisaki shushed you before you could continue

“just relax,” he said combing his fingers through your hair and sitting you up. “I went to far im sorry. I… I just wanted you to know I’d do anything, for you.”

you relaxed into his arms and closed your eyes. you knew, even if he didn’t kill those men for you, and even if he didn’t pleasure you past your limit. you knew.

“thank you kisaki…”

authors note: this was my first serious ff so im sorry if it ended weird.. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I hoped you enjoyed it either way (^_−)−☆

#fanfic #kisaki x reader #kisaki tetta #overstimmed #tokyo revengers #x reader

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twotapbuz · 3 years ago

Text

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal.

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

“that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap.

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

#NSR #NSR 1010 #no straight roads #rin #1010 rin #nsr rin #neon j #nsr x reader #no straight roads x reader

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theaxisofidiocy · 3 years ago

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ok im gonna try to calm down and express the core of my concerns and why this situation makes me genuinely worry that my perspective is completely removed from reality. and im tagging it because im actually interested if anyone sees this and wants to explain it to me.

so as i understand it: penumbrapod is in the wrong for hiring a racist artist to make art for them. the artist is deemed racist because of some very specific concrete problems with art they have drawn. the in depth analyses of the problems with this art go into how the stereotypes and caricatures employed in the art can be harmful and misrepresent the characters.

this person is drawing the characters the wrong way. this is worthy of punitive action in the form of being fired.

the question this leaves me with is: what is the right way to draw them?

if it is inherently harmful to make fanart of characters with no canonical physical design if you do it the wrong way, how are people supposed to draw them to avoid causing harm?

is the answer to avoid these characterizations altogether? to never depict an asian person as expressing sexuality, or a trans person as angry and violent? I suppose some people must think that, but it strikes me as wrong, or at least unproductive, to limit art that way.

(it may seem like im just bringing this up to be contrary, but this is just how my mind works. i literally started scrolling tumblr today and upon seeing some unrelated fanart found myself wondering “is that racist? is that? that art has characteristics that could be stereotypical, does that mean it was wrong of the person to make it?”)

i understand it is important to look at art critically and often political and social harm is so deeply woven into our art that it is difficult to tease apart into purely good or bad elements, it’s a muddy mess. i think literally everything humans make has problematic elements, and sometimes those elements are hard to correct, sometimes all we can do is recognize and discuss them.

that’s not whats happening here. fans who were hurt are calling for action to be taken, and upon receiving vibert’s statement have declared that action to be the wrong one. that action is not good enough, that action only cements your poor decisions and betrayal of your fans.

what would be the right action? would firing ellison be right? what if the next person they hire is also objectionable? should all future hires be first vetted by the audience to make sure they have never caused harm? or is this incident coupled with the podcast’s past missteps with representation evidence it is irredeemable, or a lost cause? this seems to have been many people’s conclusion and that really just makes me sad.

most fans seem to have concluded from the statement that vibert is just not listening to them. but having read it thoroughly, i dont understand how you could think that, unless by “listening” you actually specifically mean “firing ellison”. on that note i dont understand how firing them would rectify the harm?

i am a very introspective person and it’s definitely possible im just getting lost in that introspection and missing the point, but i am disturbed that so many people are behaving as if this situation has no nuance, as if the answer of what the penumbra team should have done is obvious and their failure to do it is proof they are not worth your time anymore.

let it be known also that i am white, which im sure to many people means i have no right at all to comment on the situation, but i am really desperately trying to understand and i dont think “shut up and listen to poc” is actually a very good general life policy.

(further discussion is in the comments/notes)

***ive decided i need to move past this for my mental health, so i will not be actively debating in the comments. feel free to continue the discussion if you want as i will not be deleting this post. i think valuable things were said here.

#the penumbra podcast #kevin vibert #ellison estephan #fanart #racism #discussion #long post #im sorry for the scrolling but i couldn't decide where to put a readmore #mostly wrote this for me #i feel better already having expressed myself #if you have a roblem with me exressing myself on my own blog idk hat to tell you #if you have a problem with my perspective please explain it to me #my plan all along was to encourage more nuance discussion heeheehee

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draconic-ichor · 3 years ago

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Heisenberg x Juniper (oc) Smut dabble…

This is an au smut dapple involving my re8 oc and Heisenberg. This does not go with my current fic

Warnings: smut, strong language, sexual themes, blood, fingerings, oral sex, penetrative sex,

Basically this came to mind as a what if Juniper would of stayed with House Dimitrescu and over the years Heisenberg’s curiosity of her got the better of him

Summary: During a festival Heisenberg finally gets the Dimitrescu’s guard dog alone…

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Walking through the town center, Heisenberg grimaced. The night was alight with music and laughter, the village holding a festival for something or another.

He trudged through the crowd to the tables that were serving alcohol, taking a shot of whisky for himself. The sounds of mirth all around him.

He hated the village, hated how it smelled and the people’s unwavering devotions. He didn’t come all the way down here to enjoy the festivities. No, he came for a very specific purpose….To find her.

Refilling just cup he began to slowly walk, eyes keen. The villagers danced around the maiden statue, singing.

As he rounded the edge of the town’s center his eyes caught what he’d come for: across the mass of people was a woman. She stood out, her raven curls shining in the lantern light. She looked so beautiful and happy, enjoying the music along the sidelines.

Her name was Juniper, and she was an outsider. Or she had been years ago when an accident brought her into the village.

She was mutated by the cadou, but unlike him she had not earned the title of Lord. She’d been assigned to house Dimitrescu, and in the few short years she’d stayed with them they did little more then exploit her. Her mutations allowed her the unique ability to shift into a varcolac like creature. Lady Dimitrescu treated her like a glorified guard-dog, but because of her higher affinity for the cadou she could drain her for wine.

It pissed him off to no end how Juniper stayed at their heels mostly, ever quiet and innocent as one in her situation could be.

The only place he could seem to catch her away from the bitch or her bugs was during nights like these. She had a wide eyed enjoyment of the village’s festivities.

In his musings he didn’t realize she had spotted him. Coming back to reality his gaze connected with her own. Her almost unnaturally bright eyes made his heart skip a beat. He watched her break away from the crowd, turning down an alley.

Heisenberg knocked back his current shot, giving chase. He stayed just enough away to not raise suspicion. As he left the alley he just caught sight of her navy cloak disappearing into a barn.

Looking around, finding this part of the town empty of prying eyes he followed.

He stepped through the partially open wooden doors. It was quiet and the air held the fragrance of dry straw.

His eyes fell on his quarry. Standing in the back, dim light alighting her eyes like emeralds, stood Juniper. She had her arms crossed, tapping her boot. It was a nervous habit of hers that he’d noticed long ago.

Chuckling he moved closer, “Now don’t look so happy to see me, doll.”

She snorted, “What do you want?”

He swallowed, forcing his voice to sound confident, “I just want to talk, we never talk.”

“Almost as if there is a reason.”

“Why avoid me?”

“Why are you so eager to meet?” Junipers eyes narrowed, “Every ceremony or festival you’re sniffing about.”

He got closer, the smell of musk and smoke hit her nose. She twitched a bit, swallowing, “Dog.”

His face split roguishly, “You’re one to talk, bitch.”

He saw her face redden as she looked away.

“I didn’t want to come here to piss you off.” He admitted, “I just wanted to see you…away from all that other bullshit.”

She saw the glow of his eyes, the way they softened when they looked over her. She couldn’t deny the feeling he stirred up on her core.

“You’ve been drinking Lord Heisenberg.” Juniper smirked, keeping one step away from him, always moving as he did.

“And?” He almost chuckled, “Don’t have to be drunk to know how I feel.”

“And how do you feel?”

He shifted a bit before answering, “Iv seen how you look at me, all hungry and wanting.”

She brushed away his comment, feeling her face flush.

“You’re not like them.” He pressed, taking a step closer.

“The Dimitrescus?” Juniper raised an eyebrow.

“The mega bitch and her little bug witches.” He nodded, “You’re not like them and you know that. They treat you like a guard dog, feeding you their bloody scraps.”

His words stung, Juniper broke her gaze from him.

“But you’re different because the bitches couldn’t curb your want for cock, hm?” He took another step, aware she had stopped her kiting of him.

Her bright green eyes flicked up to meet his. At some point his shades had been tossed away, leaving her to look into his pale eyes: they were beautiful, shifting tones of golds and greens.

While she was distracted he closed the rest of the distance between them, all but pinning her to the barn wall.

“So I’m a dog?” He looked over her face, lingering over her plush lips. She didn’t retreat, feeling warmth flood her stomach.

He leaned in, whispering low and huskily, “Well I can tell when a bitch is in heat.”

Her breath caught in her throat, she couldn’t deny the way he made her heart race.

“So how about we stop all these little games, hm?” He lifted her chin with a gloved hand. She met his eyes for a moment.

She gave him a little nod, eyes dark with lust.

He crashed his lips on her own, relishing the softness of her skin. She met his storm. He took this as an invitation to bite at her lip until she relented and gave him access to her mouth. He groaned as he explored her with is tongue, feeling her tug at his knotted hair. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, unlike anything she’d ever had.

He pressed into her, trapping her between the wall and his knee, pushing it to open her legs. She mewled at the contact, fabric rubbing over her sensible mound.

Heisenberg pulled back, huffing out hotly, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Trying to make her voice as even as possible she smirked, “Promises, promises Lord Heisenberg.”

Her bravado sent more blood pulsing to his cock, his face splitting.

“Don’t call me that.” He dipped in, kissing and biting her neck. Her hands snaked under his coat, fingers tracing over his scared back.

“What should I call you then?” She pursed, grinding into his thigh as he found her sweet spot.

“Anything other than that.” He shook his head, sucking a dark blotch into her skin.

Thinking for a moment, she chose what felt the most natural, “Karl.”

He paused, hearing his first name spoke so honestly and sweetly was like honey to his ears. He didn’t even know the last time he’d heard it spoken. He pulled away enough to catch her lips again with his own.

She pulled away from him, lips rosy and swollen. Her hands drifted down his chest and stomach, pausing once they reached his belt. She met his gaze once more.

“Tell me you want me.” He demanded with a growl.

She nuzzled into his neck as she undid the clasp under her fingers, “I want you Karl…”

He rumbled out, pulling away to tear his coat from his shoulders. Juniper followed suit, stripping down. Their movement were desperate as they connected back together, free of fabric prisons.

He fell to his knees before her, inching up to slot his head between her legs. Not wasting time he dove in, lathing his tongue into her hot flesh. Juniper’s legs wobbled as a hand found his hair, holding him to her.

He lapped at her tender bud, feeling her tremble around his mouth.

“I-is this…why they call you a d-dog?” Juniper whimpered out.

He looked up at her though half lidded eyes, pulling away enough to rumble, “I can show you all the reasons, sweetheart.”

He added a finger to his onslaught, pushing it greedily into her core. He groaned, feeling her walls instantly clench down on him.

Pumping into her while he kept up his tongue on her clit reduced her to a mess in his hands.

Feeling her walls start to flutter, he pulled away. She whimpered, core aching from the loss of contact.

Heisenberg licked his fingers clean, loving the way her juices danced across his tongue. He wanted to devour her over and over again. But his cock was very hard and needing at present.

He found an old blanket, laying it over a bale of straw. Juniper eyed him curiously.

He sat down, patting his thigh and giving her a toothy smile.

“Come here.” Heisenberg spoke, it sounding more like a command then an option. She complied breathlessly, straddling her legs around him. She leaned forward, all hot and needy, pressing her breasts into his chest.

His heart quickened, unused to this depth of passion.

Her ass bumped into his cock, causing him to hiss and grab her hips. She lifted enough for him to line herself up, the head just starting to push against her opening.

Their eyes met and time stood still for a moment. She gave him a tiny nod.

Heisenberg began to push into her, hearing her mewl in pain.

“Relax buttercup.” He hissed, “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Inch by delicious inch she took him, until his cock was entirely buried in her liquid heat.

She felt the burn of her walls stretching to fit his girth, felt every vein of his cock as it pulsed inside of her.

Juniper grabbed onto his shoulders to steady herself, her legs shaking. Heisenberg had to take a breath himself, almost spilling over the moment he felt their hips meet.

He gave a shallow experimental thrust. She arched into him, giving him the ok to move.

Their awkwardness evaporated like dew in the morning sun, melting into the act whole heartedly.

Seeing her bounce on him: eyes dark and blown out, mouth agape with pleasure, made him sigh, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

In the dim amber light he could still detect the light blush that ghosted her cheeks.

Feeling her release close he surged forward. Juniper cried out, feeling his teeth puncture the skin of she shoulder. Pain intermingled with pleasure.

Licking the wound to sooth it he felt her walls tighten around him, fucking up into her as stars burst before her eyes and she writhed.

“Fuck, that’s it! Come on my cock.” He hissed into her ear. Juniper cried out his name, pleasure fogging her senses.

She could feel his breath against her ear as he spoke, “You’re mine.” He licked the shell of her ear, drawing out a whimper from her, “You might work for those blood bitches, but you’re mine!”

She clung to him, feeling overstimulated as his cock abused every inch of her sensitive cunt. Bucking up into her, her release caused the barn to fill with a loud squelching.

He couldn’t hold on much longer, he knew it.

Her previous reservations were gone, she cried out shamelessly with every thrust. The music outside drowned them out from prying ears.

Feeling his coil tighten he started to lift her off of him, pausing when he heard her mewl.

“Please don’t pull out.” She begged, “Fill me up!”

Her words struck him for a moment, hitching his breath.

He surged her hips back down onto him, filling her to the hilt. With two more savage thrusts he was done for.

Giving a throaty groan he painted her walls with hot ropes of his release. She sobbed out thanks as her core milked him for every drop be had.

He fell back against the barn wall, breathing raggedly. Heisenberg felt Juniper cuddle into his chest, trying to calm her own heartbeat.

He put an arm lazily around the small of her back, their sweat sticking them together.

He doesn’t know how long they lay there, tangled up together, but when she sat up to move away it was much too soon for him.

She stood, shivering a bit from the loss of his heat. Heisenberg’s hands itched to pull her back against him.

Retrieving her clothes, Juniper murmured, “I should get back before I’m missed.”

Shrugging he spoke, “You don’t have to stay there, buttercup. I have a big lonely factory just across the way…”

Juniper smiled, “You and I both have jobs to get back to.”

Fuck, why was she right. Heisenberg started to reclothe as she found her cloak.

“Hei-..I mean, Karl?” Came her sweet voice.

He looked up questionably, seeing her standing in the doorway. Her dark curls were a mess, face still flushed.

“Show me some of your other tricks sometime?” Her eyes were bright and mischievous, “Maybe after the next family meeting?”

Taken back for a moment his lips slowly twitched into a smile, “Anytime kitten, you know where I live.”

Juniper gave him a wink before vanishing into the darkness.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg smut #smut dabbles

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

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dancing on the edge of something new

huge thanks to alice ( @reyeslonestar ) for letting me talk this through with her at midnight when it was causing me huge trouble 🥰

five dances in tk and carlos’s life

ao3 | 2.3k | @911fluffweek day 3: getting together // dancing

TK looks over when Carlos slides off the hood of the Camaro, his hand trailing after him until he’s forced to let go. Carlos is smiling almost shyly, shifting from one foot to the other, and TK can’t help but smile back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Carlos?” he prompts, confusion growing as no explanation is forthcoming. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I just, uh…” He bites his lip, then takes a decisive step forward and holds out a hand, cocking a brow suggestively. “Wanna dance?”

TK laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, but he’s already sitting up and placing his hand in Carlos’s, allowing him to pull him off the car and to his feet.

“Well”—Carlos shrugs, yanking TK close and smiling at the oof he makes when their chests collide—“it’s how we began, isn’t it? I figured, if we’re starting again, then it feels only right, no?”

TK stares, stuck dumb, unable to do anything but follow Carlos’s lead as his arms slip around his waist, guiding them into a gentle sway. He rests his own hands on Carlos’s chest, the realisation that he gets to do this now—gets to touch Carlos and be with him like this—hitting him all over again. To think he almost threw it all away… Well, none of that matters anymore. What matters is that they’re here, dancing in a field with no music save for the shuffle of their feet in the grass and the occasional bird or cricket, like a pair of lovesick idiots in a romcom.

And he’s never been happier.

He slides his hands up until his arms are resting loosely around Carlos’s shoulders, fingers playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck. He stares into those familiar brown eyes, so full of warmth and light, Carlos cast in the beautiful glow of the Northern Lights above them, and TK feels an intense feeling take root in his chest. It’s not love—not yet—but it will be.

He can’t imagine not falling in love with Carlos Reyes.

ii.

The club lights strobe around them, bathing the room alternately in lurid colours and strange shadows. The place is packed, the doors practically straining on their hinges, but the only thing TK is aware of is Carlos’s body moving against his own, their movements perfectly in sync with each other.

It’s been a while since they were last about to do this, to come out and just let loose for the night. In fact, TK thinks the last time might have been when they were out with Paul what seems like a lifetime ago; so much has changed since, and TK feels like a completely different person to who he was back then.

He and Carlos have officially been together for a few months now, but it’s like the universe has been working to stop them from actually being able to enjoy it. They’ve managed to squeeze in some dates here and there, but between the shooting, the solar storm, TK’s medical leave, and weeks of opposing shifts, getting a moment to themselves has been difficult.

But now, finally, they have one. And TK is going to milk it for all it’s worth.

He turns slightly in Carlos’s grasp, his head tilting up to catch his lips in a searing kiss. Carlos grips TK’s hips tighter, pulling them flush against his own as he deepens the kiss, and TK gasps, a sharp thrill shooting down his spine.

The night stretches out blissfully in front of them, the knowledge that this isn’t just a fling that will end with the cold light of dawn making it all the sweeter. It’s still a little surreal, even now, but it also feels so damn right.

TK’s heart hammers in time with the music and he sinks into Carlos’s hold, losing himself in his heat.

iii.

It’s not that TK never felt at home at the condo. The opposite in fact; Carlos’s place had been home even before he could officially call it his, and he feels the loss of it keenly. The thing is, though, even after he’d fully moved in, it had been a struggle to think of it as theirs.

It had been home, sure, but it had also been Carlos’s place.

Carlos had found it a little funny, and it had taken several slip-ups on TK’s part and just as many gentle corrections on his for TK to get used to our dining room, and our bedroom, and our house.

And then—well. Just as he’d started to get used to it, it was all gone. Ashes. It hurt, deeply, but TK knew that it was his turn to be the one to lean on, to let Carlos be the one to set the pace. Carlos had lived there for years, after all, and what was TK’s month compared to that?

Really, anywhere that Carlos is would be home, but this—holding the keys to a house they’d picked out together, a house they’d signed the lease for together, a house they’d picked the furnishings for together—feels like coming home.

He hates that it was the condo burning down that got them to this stage, but TK can’t stop a grin from emerging on his face as he slips his key into the lock.

He finds Carlos in the kitchen, humming and shimmying to a song playing from the speakers. To his credit, TK really does try to bite back his laughter, but he can’t quite manage it, letting out a loud snort which has Carlos stopping in his tracks, flushing a deep red.

“I see the unpacking’s going well,” he says, walking over to the kitchen counter and leaning a hip against it.

“It was, actually,” Carlos defends, still blushing. “I didn’t realise you’d be back this soon.”

TK shakes his head; as adorable as Carlos’s embarrassment is, he needs to let him know he’s not making fun. “You can relax, babe. You know I always love seeing you move those hips.”

“Mmm, don’t I know it.” Carlos leans in and kisses him, lingering a moment before pulling back, a wide smirk on his face. “How about you help me finish unpacking here and we’ll see about showing you more of that hip action later?”

TK grumbles, but does as he’s told, the two of them falling into a comfortable rhythm as they work to getting their house in order. It’s ended up being the perfect blend of their different styles, which probably shouldn’t work together, but somehow do, and TK loves it here. They both do, he knows—nothing will ever replace what they lost in the fire, but being able to build a home together is beyond special.

He keeps sneaking glances at Carlos as the afternoon goes on—sue him, his boyfriend is built like a Greek god—and TK smiles when he realises Carlos has started dancing again. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, which makes the whole thing so much better.

TK watches for a while, then walks up to Carlos and taps him on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden spoons he was twirling around.

There’s a brief moment of confusion, before Carlos’s eyes light up with realisation. He barely wastes a second in tossing the spoons aside (though, it’s more like a careful placement in the correct drawer) and grabs TK by the hand, sending him into a literal spin.

TK laughs, taking a moment to right himself after the sudden movement caused him to stumble inelegantly. Neither of them are in time with the music as they dance around the kitchen, carefully avoiding the boxes still scattered around, but it’s not important.

For the first time in his life, TK feels fully, completely at home. It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of.

iv.

“I think they were expecting something slower,” TK murmurs, burying a laugh in Carlos’s neck. Their guests are all wearing expressions with varying degrees of shock, and he can’t really blame them—he’s pretty sure the last thing anyone expects to hear during a first dance at a wedding is a country song. “I still can’t believe you even remember it.”

Carlos shrugs. “I still can’t believe you don’t. It is our song, after all.”

TK rolls his eyes, remembering their first conversation on this topic months ago, back when they were still sorting out all the wedding minutiae.

“‘Our’ song, babe?” he’d said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Why, because we danced to it for five minutes before leaving to get off in the bathroom?”

“Exactly,” Carlos had replied, his tone so serious that TK wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not. He’d rolled his eyes and lightly shoved at TK’s shoulder. “No, babe. Because it was the first time we danced together on the night that we met. That’s special, right, even if it did only last five minutes?”

TK hadn’t exactly been able to argue that one, and he has to admit now that it was a pretty good choice. If only to see the way Judd almost choked on his champagne in surprise when the song started.

It’s a little untraditional and, if he’s being honest, TK had never thought that one day he would be getting married in Texas on his new husband’s family ranch, with their first dance being to a ‘cowboy song’, as he’d once called it, much to Carlos’s horror. But he and Carlos have never been ones for tradition, and TK wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s perfect,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s. He stops the dance, not caring that the song is still playing, and steps closer, pressing their bodies together. Everything else fades into the background as he leans up and kisses Carlos, barely moving when they break apart. “I love you, Husband.”

Carlos’s face lights up in a grin that could rival the sun in its brightness. “I love you too, Husband.”

Music is floating through the door when TK gets home, and it’s enough to alleviate the weight he’s been carrying all day. It’s not that it had been a bad shift per se (though, when your standards for a good day are ‘nobody dies’, your view tends to get a bit skewed) but it had been long and tiring, and he’d missed his family desperately.

Sometimes, he still can’t believe this is really his life. But Ana, now three, has been living with them for a year already, and TK can’t imagine their home without her anymore. She’d been a blessing, coming into their lives after years of fighting to get on adoption registers, right when they were beginning to despair of ever managing it.

They did, though, and now TK gets to come home to scenes like this.

Scenes like Ana standing on Carlos’s toes as he guides her slowly around the room in a basic dance. TK watches for a moment before getting his phone out and hitting record; he’ll be damned if he misses the opportunity to get this on film.

Carlos, having heard him enter, rolls his eyes when he sees what TK’s doing, but flashes him a quick smile before returning his focus to Ana. She hasn’t noticed TK’s entrance, her face scrunched up in deep concentration as she grips onto Carlos’s hands as tight as she possibly can.

When the music ends, Ana claps her hands and giggles. TK takes the moment to make his presence known, dropping to his knees and holding his arms out. She barrels into him, almost knocking him over, and presses her face into his chest, her tiny hands creating creases in his uniform shirt.

“Hi, sweetheart,” TK murmurs, dropping a kiss in her hair. He gently detaches her from him and manoeuvers them until she’s sitting in his lap. “Looks like you guys were having fun while I was at work.”

She nods enthusiastically. “Papa was teaching me to dance! Abuela showed me photos when I was with her and Abuelo and I wanted to be just like her!”

“Abuela got out the photo albums again, huh?”

Ana nods again. “Of her… Her…” She frowns and looks up at Carlos.

“Her china poblana dresses,” Carlos says softly, smiling as Ana grins and points at him.

TK laughs and draws his daughter into a hug, rocking them gently, his gaze going up to Carlos. “Well, from what I saw, you were dancing even better than Papa,” he says, smirking as Carlos gasps in mock offence. He looks back down at Ana, tapping on the back of her hand. “You know,” he starts, smiling, “I think I might need some dancing lessons too. Think you can teach me?”

Ana lights up and immediately gets to her feet, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. She grabs TK’s hand and pulls him up, leading him to where Carlos must have cleared a space for them earlier. The music begins to play again and TK lets his daughter take charge, playfully sticking his tongue out at Carlos when he laughs at TK getting firmly told off for putting his foot in the wrong place.

At some point, Carlos joins the dance, the three of them stepping and bouncing around the front room. Ana’s laughter fills the house, shrieking with delight when Carlos sweeps her from the floor and wraps both her and TK in his arms. TK leans his head on his husband’s shoulder, a hand placed on their daughter’s back, and breathes out slowly, all the exhaustion from earlier forgotten.

At last, he’s home.

#911fluffweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #reyeslonestartag #tuserjenny

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About v

Pete and you make amends, but after a series of break ins you end up staying at his apartment when an unexpected visitor shows up.

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Drug use, cursing, heated make-out session

Word Count: 3161

| i | ii | iii | iv |

You spent the next week moping around your apartment, your phone turned off. All inspiration you’d had for writing seemed to have drained out of you, causing you to cancel writing sessions.

After not answering your phone for a few days, Pete came by your apartment, finding you deep in your depression. “I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” He said, taking a seat on the couch next to you. You shrugged, eyes not leaving the TV screen in front of you.

Your brother scoffed, grabbing the remote and turning it off, leaving you with no other option but to pay attention to him. “It’s fine Pete.” You muttered, reaching over to try and grab the plastic from him.

He frowned at you, “obviously it’s not. I shouldn’t have called you selfish and I shouldn’t have made it sound like I wanted you to get your heartbroken.” He explained calmly. He’d been through enough of these episodes himself, so he knew how to navigate the sadness that ran in your blood.

You sighed but didn’t say anything. You felt guilty that he was blaming himself for your mood. In reality, your fight with him was the last thing on your mind.

Pete continued explaining himself, “I’m just trying to protect you, you know?”

You nodded, trying to find the words to respond. “I know.” You whisper, “You’re right, though. Getting involved with your friends would be a bad idea.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “did something happen that I need to know about?”

You took a deep breath, preparing the lie in your head, “no, I just have been thinking about it. You’re right, it would just end up messy and someone would get hurt.”

You could tell he was trying to hide an “I-told-you-so” smirk. “So, there’s nothing going on between you and Colson?” he asked.

You tried to cover the fact that your breath caught in your throat. You guys were pretty obviously flirting the first night, but you didn’t expect Pete to jump to that assumption. “Colson?” You prayed your lie was convincing. “Why’d you assume I was thinking about going out with him?”

Pete raised an eyebrow at you and you let out a fake laugh, “bro, no. I was talking about Douglas.” You lied through your teeth. If music didn’t work out, maybe you could be an actress.

Your brother actually laughed at you for that, “wait, seriously? Doug?” His eyes closed and he leaned back into the couch.

“Yeah, I mean Colson’s hot and everything but that British accent really does things, you know?” You giggled, trying to ignore the sinking feeling from Colson’s name rolling off your tongue.

Pete rolled his eyes, “whatever, weirdo. Trust me, you dodged a bullet. I love Doug, but he could not handle you.” He got up from the couch. “I’m out, just wanted to come check on you. Maybe answer your phone some time?”

You smiled; happy you were on better terms with one of the men in your life. “I’ll try my best.” You called to him as he moved to the door. “Oh and, uh, Pete?”

He turned towards you, the sight reminding you all too much of Saturday night. “I’m sorry for being a bitch and calling you unstable and shit. I mean, you’re an asshole, but that was uncalled for.”

Pete shrugged, “I mean, I am unstable, but thanks.” He waved, leaving your house.

A few weeks past and things were getting back to normal. You were back writing and editing tracks, Pete and you were talking again, and you felt like yourself. Part of you was glad that things ended earlier rather than later with Colson, so you hadn’t had time to get too attached. Still, the thought of what could have been made you upset from time to time.

You were on your way to the studio one morning when you got a text from your floor group chat.

Wanted to let you guys know, there’s been a series of break-ins in the area. Keep your doors locked. So far no one has been in the apartments, so if you can try to stay somewhere else until they catch him. Be careful floor 5 fam!

Your floor was almost exclusively younger millennials, so you all got along decently. Andy, the one who had sent the text, was actually a pretty good friend of yours, despite you rarely leaving your apartment.

You had an irrational fear of people breaking into your house. You couldn’t explain it, but the thought of being attacked in your own home was one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. Because of this, you decided to text Pete.

Hey, can I stay at your place for a little while. There have been break ins near my apt and I really don’t wanna be there if it happens to me.

You knew Pete was probably rolling his eyes, but you didn’t care. There was no way you were gonna stay in your apartment until you felt safe.

Sure

You have to buy groceries though

Deal

And thus began your week-long sleepover at Pete’s house.

On day four, Pete walked into the guest room where you had set up camp, finding you scrolling through your phone on the bed. “Hey, Colson’s gonna come over tonight and we’re gonna get high on mushrooms and watch SpongeBob. Wanna join?”

The thought of seeing the blond again made your heart race, but you hid behind a fake smile, “no thanks, I’ll probably stay in here all night and get some work done. Have fun though, don’t bother me.”

“Yeah, you look like you got a lot of work to do.” He said sarcastically but left you to your own devices. “I’m ordering Pizza, I’ll get you one.”

You thanked him, trusting he knew your pizza order by heart by now. Once he left you let out a worried sigh, trying to figure out how you were going to hide the awkwardness between you and Colson from your brother. Hopefully, he would be too high to figure out anything was up.

You were also upset that you had to turn down a night of shrooms and SpongeBob, something you would’ve loved. But you figured you could skip out on one night of fun if it meant avoiding the guy that you probably could’ve fallen in love with if he hadn’t given up on your relationship before it even started.

Okay, so maybe you weren’t as over everything as you told yourself you were, but he had put you in a shitty situation. Of course, you weren’t going to be happy about it.

Three hours later you were sitting cross-legged on your bed, laptop in lap, and headphones in. You’d been listening to one of Lea’s tracks for the past hour, scribbling some general edit notes in your notebook and cleaning up some of the notes with your virtual tuner.

You vaguely heard a knock on the front door but ignored it, focused on adjusting her vocals for the bridge. Truthfully, it wasn’t the best song you’d written with her, but she liked it and she was your boss at the moment, so you did what she asked.

But when there was a knock at your door, you paused, removing one earbud, and calling, “yeah?”

You weren’t expecting to be met with those all-too-familiar blue eyes. “Hey.” Colson said, his confidence fading as you made eye contact.

“Hey.” You replied softly, feeling like his hand was wrapped around your heart and squeezing it.

He cleared his throat, stepping further into your room with a pizza box in hand. “Here’s your pizza.” He handed you the box awkwardly. You had expected him to leave the room after you thanked him, but he lingered for a moment. “You’re not skipping out on tonight because of me, right?”

You raised your eyebrow at him, confusion on your face. “No, I have a lot of work to do tonight so…” You trailed off, lowering your gaze down to the box in your hand.

He nodded, “okay, I just- you told me how much you liked doing shit like this with Pete and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t…” He paused, letting out a breath, “if you want to join, you should. Like I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have fun just because I’m here.”

You let out a dry chuckle, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not not hanging out with you guys tonight because of you. I’m just doing work.”

The man nodded again, scratching the back of his neck. “O-okay. I’ll just, uh.” He turned towards the door, moving to leave before turning back to you. “If you get done and feel like it, you should come watch SpongeBob with us.”

You nodded, sucking your lips into a straight line, feeling the awkward tension in the air that you desperately wanted to avoid. “I’ll think about it.” You said and with that, the blond left your room, pulling the door behind him.

You hated to admit it, but even when he was being nervous and awkward, he still managed to be fucking attractive as hell. You let out an annoyed huff, falling back against your pillows and covering your face with your hands.

You then spent the next 45 minutes trying to finish your edits, but your mind kept wandering to the boy with the sky in his eyes and an art museum on his body. Realizing you wouldn’t be getting any work done for the rest of the night, you thought about his offer.

Shrooms did sound good right now, and as much as you hated it, so did spending time with Colson, even if it was just friendly. And now that you had gotten Pete off your back about the events that had gone down weeks ago, he wouldn’t be suspecting anything anyways, especially not if he was tripping out.

Fuck it, you figured, climbing out of your bed and grabbing the box of pizza. You shuffled out of your room and into the living room where the bright colors of the TV lit up the dark house.

“Y/N! You decided to join us!” Pete cheered as you took a seat on the edge of the couch, curling your legs under you.

You giggled at your brothers very faded state. “I got bored of working so, shrooms.” You shrugged, reaching over and grabbing the bag off the coffee table. You could feel Colson’s eyes following you but you tried to play it off.

The mushroom was chewy in your mouth and tasted like dirt, so you ate it as fast as you could, focusing your attention on the tv. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, your legs falling to your side. From the corner of your eye, you could see Colson take a long swig of the bottle in his hands. It was too dark for you to read the label, but you could tell it was some form of alcohol.

Biting your lip, you considered the idea of toying with him, remembering how awkward he was earlier. Deciding he probably would be too high to care; you leaned over and grabbed the bottle from his hand. You brought the drink up to your lips, eyes locked on his and a smirk on your face. He watched as you swallowed the burning liquid, and it was then that you processed just how glazed his eyes were.

Handing him the bottle back, you giggled. Something about Colson being completely faded yet still watching your every move made you feel giddy inside. He smiled at your actions, accepting the bottle, and taking another sip of it. This time you watched him, his Adam’s apple moving with the liquid.

So, you were definitely not over him. Not even in the slightest.

You took in a breath, turning to the screen and waiting for the drugs to kick in. They were playing the episode where SpongeBob had to get a new spatula after his broke, a classic. Every so often you reached over and drank from the bottle of what you figured out was some form of whiskey, probably Jameson knowing your brother. Colson didn’t seem to mind, moving closer to you as subtly as possible so you didn’t have to reach as far. If Pete picked up on anything he didn’t say.

Around the 20-minute mark, the shrooms definitely hit. The lights from the TV got brighter, the pictures seeming to blend together in a different way. You loved this feeling, everything seemed so much funnier and every bone in your body felt 20 pounds lighter.

Your movements felt slower, your limbs turning to jelly. Colson happened to glance over to you, seeing the smile on your lips and knowing, even in his faded state, that you were high. The image reminded him of that first night, you on the same couch passing the blunt to him. Your eyes were glossy and your smile was beautiful then and now.

As the episode ended and rolled into the next, you shifted slightly, your legs starting to fall asleep. You moved to dangle them off the couch when you felt a soft hand on your ankle. You looked over to see Colson staring at the screen, but his fingers wrapped around your right foot, pulling it onto his lap. He then reached for the other one and pulled you so both of your feet were propped in his lap, your back against the arm of the couch.

You sent him a smirk, but if he saw it, he ignored it, continuing to watch the cartoon. His hand ran up and down your leg, sending shivers through your body. You tried to pay attention to what was going on on the screen, but you felt like your entire body was on fire.

You let out a little giggle at the sensations, causing him to glance at you, bringing a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. You pouted jokingly towards him before turning back to the TV. He continued to look at you, the drugs making every feature of yours pop.

After another episode ended you heard quiet snores coming from the other side of Colson. You looked over to find Pete passed out, head hanging off the side of the couch. You laughed quietly, grabbing Colson’s attention. You motioned towards the sight, making Colson laugh silently as well. His whole face lit up as he took in his friend’s sleeping state.

You moved your feet off his lap, scooting closer to him. Your cross-faded state made you much more confident than you normally would be, and much more reckless. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.” You whispered, looking up at the man.

He smirked down at you, blinking slowly. His eyelashes were so long and pretty, you wanted to steal them. “I guess it is.” He said, voice matching yours.

God his voice was sexy.

In a moment of brilliance, or as anyone else would call it, stupidity, you climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist. He raised an eyebrow but made no effort to move you. Your hands rested on his shoulders, a drunken grin on your lips. “I was really sad when you left.” You murmured, searching his eyes.

He took his lower lip between his teeth, taking a deep breath. “I hated leaving.” He responded, leaning his head closer to you. “Took every ounce of strength I had not to go back.”

You frowned, leaning so that your noses were touching. “I wish you had.” You whispered before closing the gap between your mouths. His lips collided with yours so familiarly, so naturally. Your hands moved to the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. His found your waist, pulling your body further into his.

Every inch of your body was tingling in the best way. You felt like you were flying, adrenaline coursing in your veins. When you pulled away for air you smiled up at him. “You’re really cute.” You giggled.

He grinned, “you’re cuter.” He pecked your lips as you shook your head in disagreement, “yup.”

You both knew better. You had ended things for a reason, a reason that was passed out next to you. But in his arms, you just didn’t care. You kissed him again, deeper this time. You felt like you needed to make up for the lost time.

And Colson kissed you back, missing your intoxicating lips. Your hips started moving against his, the friction in his pants making him moan quietly against your lips.

It felt good, but he knew something wasn’t right. So, he pulled away. “Y/N.” He mumbled, earning a small whine from you. “Shhh.” He shushed you, “we can’t do this, remember?”

You pouted, moving back from him. His thumb rubbed circles into your hip, a frown on his face. “We said we weren’t gonna do this because of Pete.” He whispered.

You sighed angrily, “why does Pete get to tell us what to do?” You asked.

Colson smiled softly, “he doesn’t. But we decided that it was best if we stopped seeing each other.”

“We did!” You whisper-shouted. “Obviously, that doesn’t work.” Colson chuckled at your small outburst, knowing you were right. “Doesn’t this feel right to you?” You asked, pressing your forehead to his.

He wanted to kiss you so bad, but instead he just said, “we can’t do this.”

You pushed yourself off of his lap, a frustrated expression covering your face as you stood up. “You’re both assholes.” You said, making Colson’s eyes go wide at your volume.

He stood up, hand going to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake up Pete. “Y/N please.” You glared at him but made no attempt to continue. “You’re right, even if we avoid each other it doesn’t work, so let’s scratch that idea.” He paused and you nodded, agreeing with him. You didn’t care what happened, you just wanted him back in your life. “Let’s be friends. Just friends. We can hang out together and have fun, but we don’t get involved with each other. That way, we won’t be tempted to do this every time we see each other.”

You hated the idea, but you knew it was better than the alternative. So, you let out a small “okay” against his palm. He smiled, removing his hand from your mouth. “I’m gonna go to bed, friend.” You said, backing away from him.

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Wait.” He whispered, pulling you in for a short, sweet kiss. “Okay, now we’re just friends.”

You let out a small giggle and rolled your eyes, pushing him back onto the couch. “Goodnight.” You whispered, walking towards your room, and trying not to stumble. Your lips held a stupid smile that refused to go away.

#Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine #mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #pete davidson

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

lavender latte: iv

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 5 ||

word count: 7.7k

sucks when things go south, huh.

warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort

------

chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.

this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean

this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them.

You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.

And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.

It felt cleansing.

Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.

One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop.

(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.)

The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.

Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.

He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine.

He paid you a visit in the early morning.

The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.

The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop.

“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”

“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”

You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.

There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way.

Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time.

“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”

“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”

On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.

That day?

He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured.

You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’.

But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do.

“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”

Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”

“... Like, fully?”

Hawks nodded, slowly.

Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”

You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.

You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink.

Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.

Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt.

You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor.

You’re gonna wing it.

You’ll make a feel-good drink.

It was your only self-imposed criteria.

You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.

You activated your quirk and began.

“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.

Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.

You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible.

Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.

You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.

Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent.

It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.

You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day.

You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool.

“Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice.

You caught it but said nothing.

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”

“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”

“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.

...

As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.

What.

What the fuck.

Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat.

A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body.

It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—

But, nothing even close to this.

This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.

Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong.

It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.

It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp.

It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup.

The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.

It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—

Oh.

It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea.

It was you.

The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.

His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip.

The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.

“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”

Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours.

Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.

“It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.”

Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”

Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”

Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?”

You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.”

There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak.

He didn’t.

Keigo stared down at the drink, then you.

Holy fuck.

This was ambient?

The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—

It was unintentional?

The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.

And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.

You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.

Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you.

He just didn't think it ran this far deep.

(Mutually.)

“What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.

Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—

Lying.

Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”

“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.

You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.

“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”

Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”

“Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”

“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it.

You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it.

You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand.

During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.

The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach.

Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing.

He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.

Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.

(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)

He didn’t get it.

You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.

So, he decided to abuse his power a little.

He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.

Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.

He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.

There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday.

He clicked on the tab for your quirk.

Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation

Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality.

This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.

Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli.

Quirk potential:

Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.

Oddly, your’s contained a few details.

The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.

Keigo frowned.

All this just made him more confused.

The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.

Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.

He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it.

Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind.

Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.

You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut.

By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon.

Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.

Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.

You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.

Your phone chimed a bit before close.

[birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?

[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you

Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?

[birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows

[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)

[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.

[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this

You snorted.

[birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand

[you]: do u still have those photos

[birdboy]: ... maybe

[you]: hawks

[you]: gimme

[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me

[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward

[you]: how does ‘your brand’ feel about that

[birdboy]: ...

[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))

[you]: DEAL!!!

You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.

Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching.

As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early.

As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.

You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.

Weird.

It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks.

Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting.

Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later.

The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups.

It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction.

Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.

You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.

You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms.

Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.

Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.

They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.

The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you.

It clicked for you a few moments too late.

Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough.

...

You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass.

You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you.

You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.

Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz.

You just had to keep moving.

Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.

You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh.

You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.

Oh.

You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.

...

So much for giving Hawks a better drink.

The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.

You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits.

The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative.

How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know.

You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?

Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics.

From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel.

His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war.

This damage included the tea shop.

When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.

You’d looked terrified.

Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you.

By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training.

The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.

It was about as bad as it could be.

Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.

Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.

(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)

Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight.

Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window.

He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.

The tea shop was destroyed.

The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.

Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.

But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.

“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak.

Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?

Hawks did.

You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again.

Something was seriously fucked up.

Then Hawks called your name.

You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse.

The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.

The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.

“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.

The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you.

Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious.

He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass.

He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him.

“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass.

“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”

Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”

You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms.

The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop.

In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind.

You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.

Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.

His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—

That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.

You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.

His heart ached.

“(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”

“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”

You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely.

He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest.

Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.

Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body.

Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.

He looked so sad.

The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression.

You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.

He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly.

Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage.

“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee.

With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more.

Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.

It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.

Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.

If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.

Neutralize, stabilize, clear out.

Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds.

While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals.

Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation.

He could feel you.

The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This is fine.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Hawks is okay.”

“He’ll come back.”

“He won’t leave.”

...

“Everything's gonna be okay.”

With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths.

Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat.

The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.

You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain.

It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.

A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.

When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red.

You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.

Your wound is bad.

You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile.

Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg.

The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag.

You couldn’t keep it up anymore.

Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement.

You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations.

You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass.

His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.

“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”

He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely.

Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking.

“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”

“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort.

“There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”

Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.

“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid.

Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises.

He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg.

His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”

“I don’t want to.”

Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side.

“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble.

You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together.

“(Y/N), please.”

You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did.

The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.

The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife.

Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather.

You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you.

“Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue.

Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”

Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.

So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg.

His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream.

Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of.

(Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)

He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.

It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.

A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.

“We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs.

Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”

He’d never said it before. That you were friends.

Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears.

You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.

The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state).

Hawks still didn’t leave.

Rather, he moved closer.

So did you.

From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.

Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.

“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.

Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him.

(He really liked it.)

Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay.

You were friends, right?

Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch.

You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil.

The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity.

You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”

“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”

The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat.

Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”

God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more.

He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.

All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot.

As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.

He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks fanfiction #reader insert #mha x reader #tw blood #keigo x reader #keigo x you #keigo x y/n

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shingia · 4 years ago

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Hello!!! I love ur fics sm 😭💖 This is weirdly specific and been plaguing my mind for days,,, Can I req an angsty fic where Atsumu broke up with the reader because he wants to chase his dreams and ultimately leaves but with the reader saying "I'll wait" . A few months later he seeks for the reader again and finds out the reader has terminal illness and is dying. You can decide if there's major character death or a miracle,,,, please and thank u so much!!

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐨 - 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

aw thank youuuu <33 and also WOW this request is in-tense, i modified the ‘terminal illness’ part a little bit for plot convenience, but i rly hope you’re gonna like it ! i am : stressed. also, i’m a sucker for happy endings (just ignore my last bokuto fic) so i couldn’t go full angst on that one 😅

quick storytime : my great grandpa died from heartbreak and i always thought it was a beautiful (yet very sad) way to die, so i guess that’s where i got my inspiration from <3

⤷ atsumu x gn!reader | angst | word count : 1.7K

warnings : hospital environment, heart condition, mild description of ‘illness’ and mentions of death (a little)

your first kiss with miya atsumu had been sloppy, dizzy, with a strong scent of rum and smudged lip balm all over your lips. but there was no doubt that it had been the best kiss of your entire lives…

…just like your last had been the worst.

two months later, atsumu still couldn’t forget the salty taste of your lips that begged him not to leave. if he focused hard enough, he could even remember the feeling of your hands desperately clinging to his jacket in a last attempt at making him stay by your side.

but he didn’t, and as much as he hated himself for putting an end - even temporary - to what had been the most beautiful chapter of his life, he had never regretted his decision ; and he knew exactly why. you had promised to wait for him, and in pure egoism, he knew and hoped that you would. because no matter the distance, he was still madly in love with you.

which is why he did not understand why osamu was so outraged when he told him that he was finally ready to come back to you. but the younger twin knew things that his brother didn’t - he had seen you let yourself waste away, like nothing else mattered without the one you loved.

but more than that, atsumu did not know about the secret his brother promised to keep. he did not know that, two weeks ago, osamu had found you unconscious in your living room with an alarmingly slow heartbeat. the poor boy had not understood everything the doctors had told him - but whatever a cardiogenic shock was, he knew that it would have carried you off if without his intervention.

however, you had been categorical : atsumu shouldn’t not know about this, under any pretext. you refused to be a burden to the pursuit of his dreams for which he had already sacrificed so much for. but now that atsumu was back, something about this promise didn’t sit right with his brother. and so he decided to tell him everything.

« …most doctors thought about a standard heart attack » he told him after explaining the situation, on the lookout for any impulsive reaction from his brother. « … but one of them talked about something else. you might want to sit down ».

but atsumu couldn’t care less about his brother’s advice. actually, he didn’t care about anything else than you right now. it was already taking a lot of effort for him to stand there listening to samu instead of being on his way to the hospital - but he stayed. for an obscure reason that he didn’t really understand, he stayed.

« did you know that people can die of heartbreak ? » osamu asked, more serious than he had ever been in his whole life.

the blonde twin felt like the ground had suddenly swallowed him whole - although his brother was trying his best not to sound too accusating, it was more than obvious that whatever situation you were in was because of him. and only him.

« no they can’t » he tried to protest, not even believing in his own words. panic was beginning to win him over - and in a matter of seconds, he lost all his composure « WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT MOVING ? LET’S GO ! » he shouted, already opening the front door. at that moment, one question burned his lips, but he knew he would never have the guts to ask it out loud.

‘did i kill them ?’

——

the steady beeps of all the machines around you were the only thing disrupting the deafening silence of your hospital room. you were sick of spending your days alone. but you had no right to complain, osamu had offered to come and see you after work every day, but you had politely refused. well, politely was a big word… your body was so exhausted that you had trouble articulating simple phrases, and therefore exclusively communicated through nods or hand gestures.

your phone had been confiscated and the doctors kept you away from the news - or at least from the negative news, because they knew that your heart might give out at the tiniest emotional distress.

which is why you were so surprised to hear a knock on your door at about 3pm, outside of the nurses’ shift hours. knowing that you were too weak to talk, osamu let himself in, slowly closing the door behind him before coming closer to your bed.

« how are you doing ? » he asked, resting his hands on the other end of the bed. you shrugged, pointing at the IV and all the monitoring surrounding you. as long as these machines were there, it was hard to feel better than just ok. « listen, um… someone is here for you. the doctors said i could bring him in, but i wanted your authorization first… » he started before clearing his throat. « atsumu is back. do you- are you ready to see him ? ».

ready was probably not an appropriated word. but after two months spent pretending that he was still laying next to you in bed every night, still texting you good morning every day, still sending you the dumbest memes at the most random times, it would have been a huge mistake to refuse osamu’s proposition.

and so he let him in. obviously, atsumu had orders from the doctors and his brother : don’t run, don’t move too fast, don’t speak too soon, don’t touch them without warning. but nobody had asked him not to cry. and how could his eyes stay dry when you looked so fragile and so vulnerable ?

osamu quietly left the room, leaving the two of you together not without apprehension. but if there was one thing he could trust his brother on, it was taking care of you. two months could not have gotten the better of four years of relationship.

but as much as he cared about you, atsumu had always been - and still was - pretty bad with words. and the first ones that left his mouth were a great example. « are you going to die ? » he asked in a shaky voice, brows knitted.

you would have given him an answer if you had one, but you didn’t. the doctors said that you had gone through the most painful part, but the risks of aggravations were still too important to let you go home. you were not 100% safe yet.

« i told you i’d wait » you spoke in a hoarse voice, the beep of your heart monitor getting a little bit faster.

the steps atsumu took towards you were slow, like he had been told, but just one glance at his eyes was enough to know that deep down, he was dying to feel your skin against his.

« i know you probably hate me right now. and for good reasons » he started as he sat on the chair next to your bed, still painfully avoiding any contact. « but there’s something i need to tell you, in case… in case… well, if something were to happen ».

his eyes lingered on your fingertips, blue and cold, and his whole body tensed at once. the thought that everything you were going through had been caused by his own selfishness was driving him crazy. but he had one last thing to keep himself grounded, and that thing was exactly what he was about to tell you.

« i love you. but i caused you so much trouble that i think there’s only one way to prove it… » he said, taking a deep breath before finally resting a timid hand on your arm. « i want to marry you. right now. i don’t fucking care if it’s not considered official, i just want you to know that leaving you was probably the biggest mistake i ever did. and that i’m not leaving ever again. so fuck it, let’s get married ! you almost died, life’s too short to plan a stupid ceremony ».

he stopped for a few seconds, panting from his teary monologue and paying attention to any beep or other sound that might indicate that he had made things worse for you. but it seemed like you were doing ok. how could you not be ? the love of your life had just proposed to you - sure, it wasn’t how you had imagined it, but wasn’t it even more beautiful like that ?

the tears that started rolling down your cheeks were undoubtedly tears of happiness and relief to know that, finally, your life was back to normal. atsumu was your normality, and for the first time in two months, you finally felt like you had a purpose. you had no idea if soulmates existed, but what you had with atsumu seemed more than close enough.

if someone had entered the room at that moment, it’d probably have taken them several minutes to understand what was going on. two young adults, crying yet smiling, one of them laying on a hospital bed looking like they had been through hell and back, and the other tearing off two pieces of his t-shirt and looking genuinely proud of himself - nothing about this made sense.

« my apologies, it was the easiest way to make us rings » atsumu chuckled, eyes still blurry as grabbed your hand in his with infinite tenderness. slowly, he tied the piece of cloth around your ring finger, loosely enough so that the doctors would not consider it dangerous for your blood circulation.

« i’m keeping that until you’re getting out of here. by my side. » he affirmed, pointing at his own makeshift ring before looking right into your eyes, as serious as ever. « and i’m also keeping you. forever. consider this my wedding vows »

as much as he hated to phrase it like that, you could both die in peace now.

i spent so much time on medical sites to be as accurate as i could, i felt like meredith mf grey for a few hours

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu one shot

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joontier · 4 years ago

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Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report iv

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Your phone blares at exactly 6:45AM, and a memetastic image of Chohee lights up your phone screen as you’re brushing your teeth. When you swipe to answer the call, you don’t even manage to get a word in when Chohee chatters you out of your sleep-deprived soul.

“Just as practiced, I’m punctual, and you’re late.”

Garbling out a reply about how it’s still five minutes prior to your agreed time, you tap your toothbrush loudly against the sink, likewise spitting out the foam from your mouth. “Fine, just hurry because I’m starving!”

Being the gold-hearted person that she is (although that fact is not known to the public), your best friend had offered you a ride to the building where you’re scheduled to take the Korean Medical Licensure Examination today.

The moment you settle yourself on the passenger seat, she greets you with a cheery “Good morning!” - one that was too cheery this early in the morning, and all the more way too cheery for a certain Kim Chohee. The two of you share a look and you lean in for a hug. “Hey, we’ll do just fine, okay? We’ve been studying our asses for this.”

You don’t let go at once, looking up at her with a kissy face. She pushes your head backwards with a disgusted expression, keeping your face at an arm’s length. With an unattractive snort, you lean back in your seat, laughing your ass off at your poor attempt to lighten the mood.

“Seriously, _______, I know you’ve been lusting after me for years even when you’re well aware of my ‘strictly beef’ diet,” Chohee states, dusting your imaginary germs off her shoulder. Turning on her Benz’s engine, she checks her reflection on the rear-view mirror before driving off.

With both your hands occupied with the sandwiches you’d ordered from Subway, you use your pinky to connect your phone to play some Mozart via bluetooth. You try not to talk much about the test, knowing it will only cause unnecessary anxiety on both your ends.

As Chohee leans towards you, you tilt her sandwich in her direction, letting her take a bite from her sub. “Hey, what’s an abscess again?”

“Isn’t that more commonly known as boils? Built up pus within or below the surface of the skin?”

Kim Chohee chokes on her BLT.

“Pus?” she repeats, swallowing her bite with great strain. “Seriously? While I’m eating a sandwich? Couldn’t you be more subtle perhaps?”

Equally just as surprised as she was, you narrow your eyes at her. “We’ve been studying medicine for the last six years! It shouldn’t be a surprise by now...and besides, we’ve heard and see a lot worse too...Would you rather have me say purulent exudate then? And waste my precious saliva on a six-syllable word rather than the common term for a liquid form of inflamm-”

“Okay!” Chohee throws an arm up in defeat. “Sheesh _______! Don’t I deserve at least some gratitude for driving you to our exams?”

“Plus we’ve already seen a cadaver too, which was supposedly one of the peaks of our med-student lives! What’s all this hype about some viscous mass on the surface of the skin?”

Your best friend peeks at you from her peripheral vision, absolutely mortified. You love it.

“Can you please remind me how we became friends in the first place?” Chohee shakes her head and increases the volume of the player as the droplets of rain start pouring down the windshield. “Anyways – I was meaning to ask the histological meaning of it.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, recalling your notes, “well, it’s a localized collection of neutrophils and necrotic debris. Basically, it’s a suppurative inflammation which is associated with pyogenic bacteria and characterized by edema fluid admixed with neutrophils and necrotic cells. Staphylococcus aureus usually produces abscesses because it’s coagulase positive and coagulase helps the production of fibrinous material that localizes the infection.”

As soon as you finish, silence takes over the car, and suddenly, a sniffle comes from Chohee’s side. With a matching frown, you best friend looks at you with shiny eyes. “Oh _______, what would I do without you?”

With still half an hour to spare, you decide on relieving your bladder first before all the toilets get occupied later a couple of minutes before the actual exam. You take your time with it, even managing to put some effort in fixing your hair in clipping your fringe back so as not to eliminate all distractions possible during the exam.

While looking through the large panel windows on your way back from the comfort rooms, you spot a familiar face – the last person you’d want to see on such an important day. Perhaps your prayers weren’t loud enough to actually reach heaven.

There Jeon Jungkook was at the end of the hall, walking like a newly-canonized saint in all his glory. Most (if not all) of the female onlookers stare at him as he passes by, with Jungkook seemingly unbothered by their unwavering attention. You aren’t one for exaggeration, but these women look like they’re willing to worship the ground he walked on.

Your nerdy, anti-Jeon Jungkook ass quickly hides beside a nearby locker, not wanting to be ‘graced’ by his presence, just as some girl coined a few moments ago as she headed to the toilets with her friends, collectively gushing over the boy.

The popular kid turns to his right and you swore you’d never prayed harder and faster than any other time in your life. Your room assignment was just the one by the corner...and if he could just make a few more steps and head straight to the next classroom a-and...nope. It’s official. The universe loved shitting on you.

Jungkook enters room 132, the very same numbers indicating your room assignment for the licensure exam. You ball up your fists in your spot by the lockers, releasing all your pent-up frustration in the simplest and least violent way possible: a long, tedious exhale.

Gathering up all your self-control, you re-enter the classroom with an inward grimace, desperate to not have Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He’s looking for a seat, and with all the back rows already occupied, he’s stuck with picking one from the first two rows.

He’s already stood near the seat you’ve picked and you bore holes into the back of his head with your fake telepathy, silently ordering him to pick a chair on the other side of the aisle instead.

Just as you had not wished for, Jungkook plops his huge ass backpack on the chair next to yours. You tread back to your seat as discreetly as possible, avoiding his gaze at all times as he rummages through his military backpack. What the fuck is in that thing in the first place? You won't be surprised if he manages to pull out a whole microwave inside – and yet funnily enough, he can’t seem to own a single damn pencil.

As you were minding your own businesses (hopefully it stays that way for the rest of eternity), you catch the other students discussing surgical cases last minute.

“Hey, which artery is the one for transection for an epidural hematoma?”

“Was this the kid that got hit by a fastball in the head?”

“What happened?”

“Poor boy got hit in the temporal area during a baseball tournament. Remained conscious during the rest of the day but during the same evening he gets a severe headache with vomiting and confusion. When they got to Severance he got scheduled for immediate surgery for epidural hematoma.”

“That sounds awful…”

“I’m not sure which artery it was again though…”

If that were the case...then it’d be the transection of a branch of the middle meningeal artery...but then you wouldn’t want to answer that out of the blue and get mistaken for being too snoopy…

Instead, you reach for the bottle of water by the legs of your chair, likewise hearing the same answer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in a whisper. Huh. You raise a brow. Well, there was a major chance he knew the case since he came from Yonsei too, just as you had speculated from some of your roommates who seemed like they came from the same school after mentioning Severance Hospital.

The group continue discussing their answers when this girl, who had an obnoxiously unnatural high-pitched voice, approaches Jungkook.

“Jungkook-oppa?”

Oppa? OPPA?!

You wanted to throw up. This girl looked at least two-three years older than him. At the least. Guess Jeon was really more of a fuckboy than Chohee would ever admit. “We were just discussing something and we’re really unsure of our answers, maybe a smart oppa like you would know?”

With as much discretion as you could muster, you adjust in your seat, leaning a little bit towards their conversation as you eavesdrop like the nosy person that you are.

“The surgery was a transection of the meningeal artery,” says Jeon nonchalantly like it’s the most basic thing in the world, still scrolling through his phone. Silence ensues after that. That’s it?! He’s not even going to bother explaining-

Jungkook exhales as he puts his phone down. “Epidural hemorrhages result from a rupture of one of the meningeal arteries, as these arteries supply the dura and run between the dura and the skull. Plus you said temporal area right?” he asks, facing one of the guys.

“The artery involved is usually the middle meningeal artery - a branch of the maxillary artery, as the skull fracture is usually in the temporal area. Since the bleeding is of arterial origin, symptoms are rapid in onset even though he seemed normal for a few hours. If they didn’t bring him to the hospital that same evening, he could’ve had tentorial herniation and would have eventually died.”

As much as you hate to admit it - you’re beyond impressed. Chohee always stays true to her word, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still a jerk for clearly cutting the line at the subway.

The girls coo over him, praising him over how cool he looked by explaining his answer. Jungkook settles back on his seat like he hadn’t just perfectly given an on-point pathological explanation for a neuro case.

The group continues their review, until they’ve come to another question they’re unsure of. “Jungkook-ssi, would you know where the rupture of a berry aneurysm of the Circle of Willis would likely produce hemorrhage?”

With only ten minutes left, you’d usually be preparing yourself mentally but this group and Jungkook’s intervention has you all ears once more. Nothing wrong with some last minute review, right?

“It’s the subdural space.”

Wow. Okay, quick and close but wrong. Impressive wit though.

You open your mouth to say something but you hesitate as it dawns on you that you really aren’t part of this group and you’re not the one being asked. Jungkook not missing a beat gets a collective ‘ooh’ from the group, who’s clearly impressed at how quickly he’s answered the question.

Meanwhile, your conscience is making you contemplate on your earlier hesitation with the voice of the angel on your right shoulder telling you it isn’t right to let the wrong answer pass just like that, especially on a day like this. The devil on your left, however, tells you otherwise. You go with the former.

Amongst their murmurs of mutual praise for Jungkook (you bet this man is rejoicing inside with all the attention he’s getting, despite looking nonchalant), you take a deep breath and say the correct answer, voice coming out louder than expected.

“Excuse me?” another ‘spectator’ says, jutting her chin towards you.

“I said,” you look up at her, “it’s actually the subarachnoid space.”

“Are you sure?” she retorts.

Seriously? Just because you’re not some fuckboy jock who smolders at all boobed humans means you can’t be sure with your answer?

“Hey! I know you!” Someone exclaims from the side, causing everyone to turn their heads toward him, “You’re the foreigner valedictorian at SNU!” Similar to their earlier praises directed towards Jungkook, the same dudes marvel at your most recent accomplishment. You give a shy smile in return, quietly thanking the stranger for the sudden confidence boost.

“Jungkook-oppa is also the valedictorian at Yonsei.”

Well, that didn’t last for long...somebody has always got to rain on your parade. You won’t allow this girl though, not today.

You purse your lips, collecting your thoughts first before explaining it to them. “Subarachnoid hemorrhages, although they are much less common than hypertensive intracerebral hemorrhages, but the former are...more often than not...resultant of a rupture of a berry aneurysm.” You pause momentarily when someone drags his seat closer to yours, “Go on please.”

“Right, um...berry aneurysms are most commonly found at the Circle of Willis, usually by the junction of the communicating artery and the cerebral artery. Chances of rupture increase with age and cause marked bleeding into the subarachnoid space and produces severe headaches.” The same dude earlier blinks at you, urging you to explain further, “uh...additional symptoms may include vomiting, pain, stiffness of the neck, and papilledema. Death may follow rapidly as well.”

A few from the people gathered around your seat clap their hands, along with compliments and offers along the lines of marriage and organ swaps.

Someone mentions seeing the proctor approach the room and the group immediately disperses, everyone rushing back to their seats as quickly as possible. A middle-aged man enters, tells everyone to bring out their pencils and place their stuff by the platform, then momentarily leaves for the restroom.

Jungkook fishes through his bag, turning each pocket inside and out over and over again. There’s no way this kid actually-- “Shit, where did that pencil go?” he murmurs, going through his bag once more. Looking away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering. Jeon Jungkook is definitely on a different level.

As expected, your entertaining seatmate calls you and asks for a pencil. With a deceivingly enthusiastic nod, you retrieve a pencil from your case just beside your chair. Your life after meeting Jungkook at the subway had finally led to this moment. He clears his throat and you figure it’s signaling the coming of another obnoxious comment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant for you,” you look at him with the most apologetic look you can muster. Then you look at him, down then up, just as he had done back in the library, you smile widely before winking at him, making him hand your extra pencil over to the guy sat next to him, “Thanks, babe.”

Jungkook scowls hard and you rejoice inside your head, making sure that your face doesn’t register the slightest bit of jest. His scowl however, does not last for long. “Hmm, you’re the girl from the library, right? Smart and feisty...maybe you are my type after all,” he murmurs, tongue poking his cheek. You scoff loudly, scrunching your face in disgust. “No thank you.”

“Oppa,” the girl’s shrill voice calls him one more time and you face forward to freely roll your eyes. If you aren’t mistaken, there’s even a hint of mild annoyance on Jungkook’s features. “Don’t mind her, oppa. You can have my extra pencil instead.” She tsks. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”

At least she got something right this morning: you don’t know when to quit.

#jungkook x reader #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #bts au #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #doctors au #bts series #jeon jungkook

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sonnet009 · 4 years ago

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Wilder: Jamal’s Story (Route Summary)

PROLOGUE:

MC decides to flee Ziya alone. A rotund wine merchant named Barlow offers her a timely rescue, smuggling her out in one of the wagons in his caravan. On their journey across the Shining Sands MC learns that Barlow is a wealthy and ambitious man who can afford not only a team of djinn guards but even a pleasure slave. It is this pleasure slave who warns MC that Barlow intends to ransom her back to Ziya and urges her to leave the caravan. Though afraid, MC chooses to stay rather than risk facing the desert alone. Jamal is not pleased at the prospect of continuing to share his wagon.

CHAPTER I:

The caravan stops so Barlow can take his dinner out under the stars. MC joins him and Jamal while the djinn guards keep watch. Barlow is very blatant about his sexual relationship with Jamal and Jamal for his part fawns over Barlow in return. MC has never seen anything like it. Left alone for a few moments, Jamal teases MC that she can't keep her eyes off him.

During the next day's travel the caravan is attacked by a raiding group of djinn come down from the Western Hills. The djinn guards rally around Barlow to protect him but change their minds when the leader of the wild djinn offers them a free life with the tribe. Barlow and MC are pushed onto their knees, faces in the sand, and Barlow is beheaded. MC hears Jamal's horrified gasp.

MC does not share Barlow's fate. She is restrained and brought back to the Hills with the tribe and their new recruits. She is not sure why, but feels in her heart that this is no salvation.

CHAPTER II:

While the new djinn are welcomed into the tribe, Jamal sneaks over to where MC has been tied. He probes her about her rich, important family and muses that she must have connections in Umar. Though he knew she was fleeing Ziya he doesn't seem to have the full story – he certainly doesn't know that MC is an accused murderer and therefore utterly without connections or power.

After a ritual in which each new djinn must eat a piece of a raw deer heart, the disgusted Jamal has had enough. In the dead of night he frees MC in return for her promise to take him to Umar. They catch their breath by the river but are soon discovered by one of the ex-guards whose disdain for Jamal the pleasure slave is obvious. He calls out for the rest of the tribe and MC and Jamal run.

The tribe pursues them far, all the way to the base of the mountainous Knives. With little other choice, MC and Jamal head up – away from the Hills but only into more danger.

CHAPTER III:

MC offers condolences for Barlow's death. Jamal is dismissive and MC realises that though he appeared to adore the man it was all just an act. He doesn't miss Barlow, just the security that being his personal slave offered. Jamal insists that MC is his master now, though MC insists that she is not. Jamal reveals his intention for MC to sell him to a famous pleasure house in Umar, and for that she has to be his master.

Jamal whines and gripes the whole way up the mountain path. In contrast, MC finds a fortitude within herself she never knew she had. In the night he attempts to seduce her though she rebuffs him, saying, “I told you, you don't need to do that.” The next day they stumble into the path of a mountain lion. Jamal hides behind MC while she scares it away.

They come across a hot spring and MC spends most of her time trying to avoid looking at Jamal's naked and shameless displays designed to get her attention. But when he asks her to wash his hair it is with genuine, vulnerable wanting so she does so. It is the most intimate moment MC has ever shared with anyone.

CHAPTER IV:

In the sprawling farmland on the other side of the mountains, MC and Jamal are caught in a sudden downpour. Sheltering in an old barn, they share a sweet, quiet moment that turns into an argument when she once again refuses to claim him as her slave. MC is secretly very drawn to Jamal, but fears that his affection is all a lie and that she will be taking advantage of their positions if she lets herself believe him. He accuses her of looking down on him and gives her the cold shoulder. This means that MC has missed another chance to confess that she is not the connected noblewoman he believes her to be.

As they continue on their journey in strained silence, a group of bandits appear and block their path. MC is afraid but not as afraid as Jamal. However, when one of the men grabs MC and makes lewd comments, Jamal exclaims, “Hey!” surprising no one more than himself. As the scene turns to violence, MC and Jamal learn that even a light slap from a djinn whose claws have been growing for weeks can be devastating to a human body. MC thanks Jamal for his protection while he desperately tries to get the blood out from under his nails.

They finally make it to Dijarah, a port town where MC intends to board a ship sailing for Umar. The one problem? She has no money.

CHAPTER V:

To earn money in Dijarah, an innkeeper agrees to hire MC and Jamal to work in the kitchen. Jamal is aghast at the prospect, especially when he meets the old battleaxe of a cook on whom his charms utterly fail. Jamal is terrible at every practical task put before him and, after only a few days, is utterly miserable.

MC is gentle and encouraging with Jamal, and he eventually is able to put aside his pride (a little) and improve. He finds it amusing to think of a world in which he worked here instead of as a pleasure slave. But when MC takes this question seriously he balks and insists that he would never want an unglamorous life like this. “I know what I am,” he says quietly.

As the two grow closer, Jamal tells MC the story of his life. Bred illegally and born sick, Jamal was passed under the table from master to master, role to role, failing at all of them. Finally dumped in a pleasure house as an insult, Jamal actually flourished there – able to put his natural charm and artistic talents to use. That is why he cannot even consider another life. MC asks if he would choose the same life if he were a free man. Jamal goes quiet and does not answer.

CHAPTER VI:

One day MC walks into the kitchen to see Jamal scrubbing pots with all his might then absent mindedly tidying up some things – not as part of his assigned task but just because it needs doing. MC announces herself and they compare their palm callouses and growing arm muscle. One night Jamal is asked to perform for the inn's patrons by playing the lute – he is giddy with excitement to be the centre of attention once more, though the audience is not his usual clientele. He plays and sings beautifully and MC sets off a standing ovation that nearly makes him cry.

An evening shift turns tense when a group of drunkards start causing trouble. Jamal shocks everyone by taking charge of the situation and intimidating them into leaving. Though, as soon as they are gone, his legs turn to liquid and he slides to the floor declaring how terrifying the whole thing was. The innkeeper draws him a hot bath in thanks. Jamal asks MC to wash his hair again. Though she won't join him in the tub – despite his persistence – Jamal does wash and style her hair for her in return.

Finally MC and Jamal have enough money to book passage on a ship. As they are boarding MC catches sight of Hamza in the crowded street. She drags Jamal away to avoid getting caught, though now she is less afraid of being arrested than she is being exposed to Jamal who still doesn't know that she is a fugitive. She resolves that she must tell him soon, even if it ruins the... friendship... that seems to finally be blossoming between them.

CHAPTER VII:

Hamza has also boarded so MC spends most of her time hiding in her cabin – and Jamal has no objections to passing the days relaxing on a soft bed. She tries many times to broach his misconceptions about her but is consistently thwarted by interruptions and her own cowardice. A rich passenger tries to buy some time with Jamal from MC but she staunchly refuses. Jamal is delighted by this, then confused as to why he is so delighted.

One night they lie side by side on the bed and MC asks Jamal why he is so set on being sold to this particular brothel. He explains that, not only is it a famous venue, but if they purchase him then by Umar’s laws he will no longer be a slave but an indentured servant. MC says that isn’t good enough – she wants to free him. Jamal is dismissive of such an impossible idea but MC insists that Lord Yasir, the most powerful man in Umar, could surely help them. Jamal asks why MC would be seeking Yasir’s help for herself and she prepares to finally tell him the truth when– the ship’s bell rings. They have arrived.

Hamza catches sight of MC at just the wrong moment. She drags Jamal off the ship, pushing past everyone else, and manages to lose Hamza in the moonlit streets of Umar. They come to Minerva’s Pleasure House. Inside is a whole new world to MC but Jamal is in his element. Then he goes quiet. “I don’t want you to leave me here. I want to stay with you. I want to be–”. The madam interrupts, realises exactly who MC is, and throws her and Jamal out of the place, calling MC a murderer and threatening to tell the authorities if either of them ever return.

CHAPTER VIII:

MC hurries to Yasir’s estate, a confused and suspicious Jamal with her, and fortunately finds the merchant-turned-lord to be very welcoming and willing to provide sanctuary. Jamal confronts MC and she finally admits everything. Jamal is devastated. He accuses her of using him, of dragging him through danger and hardship just for the amusement of it, of being just as rotten as Barlow and the others. “You think so little of me. You think nothing of me.” MC cannot explain her actions without admitting – to Jamal and to herself – that she has been falling in love with him. Jamal is stunned. Then he turns and leaves the manor.

He returns in the morning and apologises for leaving, kissing MC on the cheek and saying that he understands she was only doing what she had to do – she’s a survivor. He turns down MC’s attempts to make him a free man and instead asks Yasir to use his influence to place him in the pleasure house. “No more pretending,” he says in response to MC’s protestations. “I know what I am.” Yasir arranges for the madam to accept him as an indentured servant.

MC and Jamal say a fraught goodbye in the gaudy room that is to be Jamal’s from now on. Jamal kisses MC and, at his soft declaration that he has fallen in love with her too, she gives in to her passion and they come together in a tangle of flesh and emotion. After, as they lie in bed, the door is kicked down and in bursts Hamza to arrest MC. Jamal is remarkably unsurprised. “I should’ve known it was all a lie from the beginning. All those things you said about my potential. Trying to make me doubt who I am; what I am. But you know something, mistress?” There is nothing but cold resolve in his eyes. “I’m a survivor too.”

CHAPTER IX:

MC is transported back to Ziya to face her execution. She spends the journey thinking on Jamal. That night he left the manor he must have gone to Hamza to arrange the ambush. Anger and betrayal come in cycles but always give way to regret and the knowledge that she brought this on herself. MC’s execution is a public event on the steps of the shah’s palace, but the proceedings are suddenly interrupted by Jamal and Yasir’s right-hand-djinn Royo. Since MC was under Umar’s protection, Ziya’s actions in abducting her have been taken as a hostile act. Hamza takes justice into his own hands and attacks MC with his sword. Jamal tries to protect her but she pushes him away, taking the blade in her chest.

MC wakes in her old bedroom in her Aunt and Uncle’s villa. The blade missed her heart and, though badly wounded, she will live. Jamal is by her bedside. He asserts that he hasn’t forgiven her, and he’ll never forgive himself, but he wants her to know that Hamza was the one who caught and pressured him into the betrayal that night, and Jamal convinced himself that she deserved it. But he regretted it immediately and went running to Yasir for help. He confesses that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d fallen in love with her. He thinks that’s their shared fatal flaw – they’re dreamers.

When MC next wakes quite a lot of time has passed. This time it is Royo who comes to see her, informing her that the political pressure from Umar – and Yasir specifically – has worked. To avoid trouble between the two cities, Ziya has agreed not to execute MC but to exile her. Royo must return to Umar now but says that MC is welcome there once she is well enough to travel. MC asks after Jamal but Royo shakes her head. He is waiting by the carriage to leave and will not return to the villa. MC asks Royo to take something with her when she goes – a letter addressed to the madam of Minerva’s.

BITTER END:

When Jamal sees her in Minerva’s he covers his shock by asking if she is there to taste him once again. They go to his room and MC interrupts his cold, emotionless seduction with the last of the money he needs to truly be free. He insists at first to not want it then finally cracks open, tears spilling down his cheeks. “But where would I go?” MC says he can go with her if he likes. He doesn’t answer, conflicted, still so afraid to trust. MC backs off and says he can go wherever he wants to go; anywhere in the world. She leaves the pleasure house but lingers outside, hoping that when Jamal comes out a free man he will choose to go with her after all.

SWEET END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. However when she journeys to Umar with the final payment she is informed by the madam that Jamal has already been freed from his contract and left months ago. MC turns to Royo for help, who informs her that Jamal had also been working hard to pay for his freedom – taking on extra chores and responsibilities at Minerva's – and that last she knew he was heading for Dijarah.

MC sets sail immediately. When she disembarks at Dijarah’s docks she is stunned to find Jamal waiting, Royo having sent word ahead. There is a tense moment of uncertainty then Jamal launches himself at her, catching her in a tight embrace. He thanks her for contributing so much to buying his freedom and says he’s never worked so hard for anything before – for the chance to live a free life. To stand before MC as an equal. To say he loves her and for it to be the simple truth. Hand-in-hand, Jamal escorts MC to his new place of employment – the inn in which they spent so much time before. He winks. “I hear they're hiring. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

#Wilder #Jamal #Route Summary

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