#i had barely seen them on tv either and certainly not in such a big way as buffy was doing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

delimeful · 3 years

Text

taking the fall (4)

warnings: pain, injury, mentions of captivity

Roman woke to throbbing pain in his leg and an uncannily soft surface below him.

He resisted the urge to groan theatrically as he was unwillingly dragged back to consciousness, and then resisted the urge to groan harder as he recalled just what had happened before he passed out.

He’d been seen. After all his careful planning, his little one-in-a-lifetime excursion had still landed him in the hands of a human. He wasn’t fool enough to believe that Logan had left him alone just because he’d fallen out of sight for a moment and then passed out like a wimp who couldn’t even handle a little bone-breaking.

Humans often lived in blissful ignorance, but not ‘lack of object permanence’ levels of it. Logan had definitely seen him fall, and odds were that he was now in the human’s clutches. Which was bad.

Tiny furniture hobbies aside, the guy was a textbook nerd, which was only barely a step down from an actual scientist. Roman wouldn’t be surprised at all if he woke up in one of those clear glass vials that scientists were always using on TV. Would that be better or worse than a jar? Probably worse, but if he could tip it over…

He dragged his thoughts away from the hypotheticals, well aware that he was stalling. Whatever he was laying on now, it certainly wasn’t glass.

Hesitantly, he peeked one eye open a tiny bit.

A pillow. It looked absolutely bizarre from this angle, his body just barely heavy enough to sink in and cause a few wrinkles in the fabric, but it was still recognizable as one of the huge fluffy pillows that normally rested on the human’s bed.

He turned his head a little further, and found that the pillow was on the desk that he’d previously taken a dive off of. The miniature set was still present to one side, surprisingly enough. Perhaps less time than he thought had passed, if it hadn’t been sent off to wherever Logan had promised to take it yesterday?

Or perhaps Logan had decided to forgo that responsibility in favor of his exciting new discovery. Roman shuddered.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

The voice nearly made Roman jump out of his skin, and he couldn’t help but freeze guiltily, totally giving away his awakeness. He craned his head up and saw that Logan was sitting on the desk chair, pushed back a few feet from the desk, a tiny dresser in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.

That was… considerably less menacing than he’d been expecting. “What are you doing?”

Logan blinked at him, nonplussed. “Wood detailing?”

Roman squinted at him suspiciously, trying to figure out what nefarious plans one could enact with the details of a tiny dresser. Perhaps it was supposed to be a part of some sick enclosure that the human was designing for him? He had wanted Roman to talk about the chair, of all things, so maybe he needed a tiny victim to test out his furniture.

That wasn’t exactly torture, but he still needed to escape. His presence here risked every other borrower in the building and out of it. Growing more somber, he testingly shifted his leg, trying to figure just how effective the human-applied splint actually was.

… Ouch.

“Is it sufficient?” Logan asked, unknowingly echoing his thoughts as he leaned over slightly to peer down at him. Roman pulled on his fiercest scowl, and was gratified to see the human retreat slightly. “I have pain medicine, but I was uncertain about the proper dosage, so I decided to wait until you woke up to see what you wanted to do.”

“Oh, I just bet you want me to take pain medicine,” Roman shot back sharply, ignoring the fairly nonsensical nature of what he’d just said. Like he was helping a human figure out the best ways to drug a borrower!

“... I do?” Logan replied, sounding downright confused by his hostility. “Normally, I would encourage anyone with injuries as significant as yours to seek out professional medical attention, but after witnessing your fear of me, I assumed that you would prefer to not be exposed to more humans.”

“I wasn’t afraid!” Roman snapped indignantly, and then paused as the rest of that spiel caught up with him. He was unspeakably glad that the human hadn’t been dumb enough to waltz into a human sickbay with him, but-- “I would prefer to not be exposed to you, either, BFG!”

“BFG?”

“Big Frustrating Giant!”

Logan looked dubious, but carefully averted his gaze. It wasn’t what Roman had meant, but those huge eyes being off of him were admittedly a relief. He shuffled his body to the side slightly, trying to ignore the sharp pains from jostling his leg.

“I will remind you, you are the one who came into my apartment, not the other way around,” Logan said, frowning slightly but keeping his eyes locked on the furniture in his hand. “Why were you there?”

“I’m afraid it’s none of your business,” Roman sniffed haughtily, ignoring the way his heart had sped up in his chest at the idea of making the human angry.

“Apologies, I don’t mean my apartment. I’ve already discerned that you likely find sustenance and other helpful items in human living spaces, going by the ease with which you traverse large terrain and the repurposed human items that make up your belongings,” Logan clarified, casual as anything. “I was asking why you were in my stage miniature. There is no food in it, and you must know that I would notice if anything went missing.”

Roman stared at him, feeling the blood drain from his face at the offhand way that the human had correctly guessed a lot about how borrowerkind survived, all from Roman’s unconscious presence.

It was beans like this that the rules had been designed for, so of course he would be the one to catch Roman. He set his jaw, resolving not to say anything else that might give anything away to this wannabe Sherlock.

Logan glanced up from the layer of drying varnish that he’d been staring at for the past thirty seconds, wondering if maybe the tiny person had fallen back into unconsciousness.

But no, despite their silence they were still awake and glaring at him, brow furrowed and arms crossed firmly. He tilted his head curiously, trying to indicate that he was listening, but it seemed they didn’t plan to answer at all.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” he said, hurriedly looking back to the miniature he was fiddling with in an effort to not stress the tiny person out any further. “I simply wanted to see if there was anything you needed that I could provide you, since I’m partially responsible for your injury.”

“Partially?” they echoed, incredulous.

Logan nodded. “I startled you, and your attempt to flee led to injury. I should have known better than to move so quickly, particularly with the disparity in our sizes.”

“That was a strategic retreat,” they emphasized, “and you never would have caught me if you’d moved slowly. I’ll have you know I’m no slouch.”

Caught them…?

“My intention wasn’t to grab you,” he said. “I was reaching for one of the chairs to try and compare the scale. If it was incorrect, it would have been obvious when put side by side with you.”

“Yes, yes, I already guessed that you have nefarious furniture-related plots for your poor captive, you don’t have to explain it.” They were rolling their eyes when Logan glanced at them, and seemed to be an inch or two away from where he’d originally placed them on the pillow.

It felt to Logan as though they were talking cross-ways, even more so than his usual pop culture reference confusion(and didn’t it just figure that a tiny person that lived in the walls was more familiar with human colloquialisms than him?) during conversation. Perhaps it was due to their less than fortuitous first meeting?

“It seems like there might be some misconceptions here,” he tried. “I’m not keeping you captive.”

The stranger lifted a skeptical eyebrow, spreading their arms to gesture at the surrounding area. “Aren’t you, though?”

Logan followed the gesture, eyebrows drawn in. As far as he knew, a pillow on top of his desk hadn’t turned into an impenetrable prison within the last few moments. “No. I’m not.”

“So if I were to, say, walk out right now, you’d just be all peachy-keen with it?” they asked, almost condescending in their doubt. “You wouldn’t try to stop me from leaving?”

Logan paused, a firm denial on the tip of his tongue. “Are there others like you nearby?”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, going by the way their tiny hands went white-knuckled for a moment.

“No,” they answered mulishly, “I’m the only one of my kind. And I’ll have you know, if there were others-- which there’s not-- I would never sell out my hypothetical fellows for my own freedom!”

“That’s…,” Logan sighed, deciding not to mention how incredibly dubious he was of the likelihood that there was only one of a species. “That’s not what I meant. You clearly pursue an active lifestyle, I just wanted to ensure that there would be someone to support you and help you recover from your injuries. You won’t be able to even walk on that limb for a fair bit of time without permanently damaging it.”

Logan thought for a moment that he’d gotten through to them, witnessing the way trepidation lingered in their expression when they looked down at their leg, but then they shook their head firmly.

“That’s just an excuse! I know that you’re planning on keeping me, humans always do. I’d rather deal with a permanent limp than be a pet in one of your little dollhouses,” they spat, vitriol in every word. “So either let me go or admit your foul plans!”

The words were sharp, designed to incite, but Logan was used to scanning for the tiniest of flaws in his work, and he could spot the subtle signs of fear that his tiny visitor was just barely concealing. Clenched fists to hide shaking hands, the curl to their shoulders that suggested they wanted to curl up defensively, even their expression wobbled slightly when Logan spent a moment too long looking at them.

He took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his own frame and put them a little more at ease. An impossible task, considering they expected him to-- to know that they were a talking, feeling person and try to ‘keep them’ anyhow, but it helped clear his head.

“What will it take?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

“Um, what?” they asked, thrown off.

“To get you to stay here, just until you heal. I’m asking this of you, so it’s only reasonable that you ask for something in exchange,” Logan said. “If we can’t come to an agreement, I’ll leave you to your own devices, but there has to be something you want badly enough to remain here for a few weeks.”

“And what, you’ll just give it to me and let me leave after I’m all healed up?” they asked, continuing their trend of acting like a future in which he acted with normal human decency was an impossibility.

“Yes,” Logan answered, as earnest as he could manage. “That’s part of the arrangement. I would also like to know your name and pronouns, though that is secondary to being allowed to treat you.”

“What if I said you weren’t allowed to grab me? Or touch me at all?” they asked.

“That would be acceptable,” Logan replied without hesitation, mentally trying to figure out how non contact would alter a treatment plan.

“And you… you aren’t allowed to take notes on me! Or pictures!” they continued, watching him intently. He kept his expression agreeable, only nodding. “And you have to give me food, you can’t withhold it or make it part of another deal.”

“Medical treatment for someone on bedrest also includes things like meals and mental enrichment,” Logan replied, concealing the displeasure he felt at the idea that someone else would have tried that in his position. He really did hope these were all hypotheticals.

“And… and…,” they cast about, looking for something else to add to their ‘ridiculous’ demands, “I also want a sword!”

Logan paused, admittedly caught off guard. “A functional one?”

“Yeah-- yes, that's right! I want a sword perfectly sized to me, entirely functional, or the deal is off!” they replied, smug as though they thought they’d finally found something he’d refuse.

Unfortunately for him, Logan wasn’t the type to be deterred by a challenge. “I’ll have to go through some prototypes, but it can’t be too different from some metal decor I’ve worked on in the past.”

“Sorry, what now?” they asked.

Logan was already reaching for a post-it to jot down ideas for the base source of metal-- A nail? Or perhaps a piece of old silverware?-- eyes bright with anticipation. “I’m saying that you have a deal. You’ll stay here, and I’ll make you a sword.”

Caught up in schematics as he was, he completely missed his guest’s exasperated groan.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts roman #ts logan #ttf #taking the fall #my writing #writing #borrowers #g/t #am i missing tags?#bthb #bad things happen bingo

185 notes · View notes

ferg0s · 3 years

Note

HI TOTTALLY FORGOT TO ADD KN THE REQUEST (aomine x fem so) um i am also east asian specifically south indian and we get like litchrally no representation so if you’re cool with it :) ahahahha maybe you could do south indian so :) thank youuu

ik i made one before to your request but i ended up hating it sooooo have thisss. the read is south asain.

for context aomine had darker skin throughout his childhood (ik the official sources say he got it cuz he was outside all the time playing street ball, just bare with me on this)

Aomine was a phenomenal basketball player - no doubt about that - but that wasn't the main thing that he was known for. Growing up his appearance was always a hot topic for anyone who met him - even his family. The beauty standard in Japan required you to be paperwhite, a sign of grace and fragility. He wasn't one to obsess over his looks - as long as he had washed his face and brushed his hair he was good enough to go out - but that wasn't the case when other people. He was always the target of unwanted stares, inaudible whispers and unwanted beauty advice. As he got older, more aware of his social surroundings, he started to become more aware of people's perceptions of him.

He didn't think it was that big of an issue - he didn't know that it was that big of an issue - until he had gotten skin lightening cream for his birthday. At that moment he fully realized the gravity of the situation. Aomine wasn't one to cry - especially if his feelings got hurt - and he most certainly wasn't one to forget either. That moment stuck with him the rest of his life, the confusion when reading the logo of the tittle white container, the days staring at himself in the mirror - at other kids who were much lighter than him - he would never forget that.

He knew that he couldn't change that - he was born with it. He focused on other aspects of his image, in hopes that they would stand out more than his skin. And over time, his physique became the talk of the town - not his complexion (as much). He would chalk it up to him being in the sun all day when anyone asked, and they bought it. They thought he was one of them - that his 'imperfection' was temporary.

Aomine knew that he would never be like the rest. He had to hide behind lies, put on a mask, in order for them to treat him like he was one of them. Even though he was; he was born on the same soil as them, ate the same food they did, drank the same water and shared the same childhood memories of obscure tv shows and toys. Why couldn't they see that? Why did something so trivial denounce everything that he had done?

He didn't understand the attention of the other sex when he got older. He couldn't understand why anyone would see him that way, it was alien to him. He would accept their advanced though, taking the lunch they brought, accepting the invitations, allowing them into his bed. But despite all of that, he knew that he wasn't going to see any of them the next day - after all, who would want to stay with him and risk their offspring not being considered 'cute'.

He was insecure about the way he looked to sum it all up.

Until he caught a glance of you.

You stood out - and it wasn't the fact that you were about to walk into the boys washroom - you looked like him. Your skin shining like honey in the sun - warm and sweet. He had never seen anyone like him - granted he had seen people with his skin tone - but never someone who looked so beautiful. He was entranced - he needed to know who you were. Luckily, stopping you before you entered the boy's bathroom was the perfect opportunity.

He practically lunged forward getting to you, putting his arm out to block the entrance. "I'm guessing you're new here," He said. You looked shaken by the sudden encounter and looked up to meet his eyes. "Can ... you move?" Your Japanese was the strongest, confirming his suspensions that you weren't from around here. "Boys washroom," He said in English. You quickly looked up and read the sign hanging by the door frame, your cheeks turning a deep shade of pink when you realized that he was right. You ducked your head and walked to the other door, the girl's washroom, and quickly walked in. He knew it was creepy, but he waited for you - which you didn't like at all.

He would follow you around like a duckling, trailing behind you everywhere you went at school. You didn't have any classes together, most of your classes were on the opposite side of the school, but he still insisted on walking you to class every day - even going as far as waiting for you outside them to walk you to the entrance of the school. Something about you drew him in - growing up he had always been people like him being viewed as less attractive, being labelled as less desirable - and you had shaken the entire foundation of his societal views. You were so elegant, graceful and - most of all - beautiful. Your skin wasn't milky white like the other girls at school, or the girls he had seen ever, yet you were the prettiest one of them all.

Eventually, he got to know you - you had moved to Japan, you were his age, and you - just like him - were born with your skin colour. He had seen the new rave with girls darkening their skin, tanning and putting on darker makeup - they would never be like him, they would never understand. They could just take it off.

"That's such a weird question," You laughed as you grabbed another roll of sushi from your lunch box. "Of course I was born like this." You finished before stuffing the roll in your mouth. "I'm brown," you mumbled while chewing. "I mean, I'm brown too-" "No like - Indian!"

It concerned you how invested Aomine was when you showed him a baby picture of yourself you kept in your wallet - "You're pretty," he said as he mindlessly stared at the photo, a faint hue of pink appearing on your cheek as you tried to brush it off as a weird compliment - he was also very grabby, asking to see your arms and examining it, asking to see your family. You thought that he was the yandere thing you had heard of a lot in anime - but it all became clear when you ran into one of his basketball friends.

"Daiki! Still got that nasty tan, huh?" Tan? You had seen baby pictures of him, he was just like that - the sun had nothing to do with it.

"The sun won't stop me from playing basketball-" He replied. You didn't say anything until his friend had left. "Why did you lie?" "Huh?" "Are you ashamed?"

You knew that you had touched a nerve when you saw his face turn sour. He turned away, refusing to make eye contact with you. "You wouldn't understand," he mumbled. You didn't pressure the matter anymore, you had been in his shoes before - the same denial, the excuses and the humiliation of looking in the mirror - so you didn't bring it up again.

Despite how close you and Aomine grew that topic was never brought up. You pretended like it never happened - actively avoiding any conversation that would lead up to anything related to that as well - and it was working, until one day you two had decided to meet up to try out a new sushi place that had just opened up. It was the weekend, and before leaving the house to meet up with Aomine you had done your little sister's face paint for a costume party she was going to. You had bought a tube of white face paint so you could give her the bunny face paint that she wanted - shoving in your bag as you rushed out of your house.

You met up with him and everything seemed to be going fine until you left your bag with him so you could go to the bathroom. You had left your phone in your bag as well, and while you were gone it began to ring. He had answered the phone for you before, so he was pretty comfortable with reaching in your bag and getting it out - but he found himself grabbing the wrong thing. Pulling it out he was horrified at what was in his hands.

"Sorry, there was this lady blocking the sink-" You said as you sat down in your chair. "What is this?"

You looked up at Aomine, he looked mad, and he was holding the tube of facepaint you had shoved in your bag earlier.

"That's face-" "Are you really doing this?" Panic and confusion set in as you wondered why he was so mad over face paint. "You know, I know its hard for people like us to fit it in" - 'what is he on about?' you thought - ", but you can't cover up who you are. You're gorgeous (Y/N)," - 'what kind of prank is this?' you didn't know if he was being serious, and if he wasn't he had some major acting skills - "The minute I saw you I was infatuated by you, by your beauty - I had never seen someone like me look so beautiful. I didn't know it was possible for someone who didn't have milky white skin or a pearly complexion to be beautiful. I grew up my whole life thinking that and seeing you changed everything - you made me realize otherwise, you made me realize that maybe I'm capable of being beautiful too" - you sat shocked as you watch Aomine pour his heart out while holding the tube of face paint - "I like you - and not because I think your the prettiest girl to ever exist - you make me feel good. So please, don't hide your beauty behind a veil of makeup."

You sat frozen, your face stripped of any emotion as you stared into his eyes. You leaned forward and reached out to his hand grabbing the tube. Taking it out of his grip you flipped it over to its opposite side and placed it back into his palm before pulling your arms away and returning to your original position. Confused, Aomine looked down at what you had just done - and that's when he saw it.

"SAKURAS MAGICAL PIXIE GIRL FACE PAINT - SHADE SNOW WHITE."

He couldn't move. He was stuck staring at the label of the tube in his hand. What was he supposed to do? How could he ever recover from that? You probably thought that he was some sort of weirdo-

"I like you too, Daiki."

_______________________

i like this :)

#knb fluff #knb imagines #knb x you #knb aomine #aomine x reader #aomine imagines #aomine fluff #aomine daiki

212 notes · View notes

football-writing · 3 years

Text

Jack Grealish - real smooth

Note: I haven't seen the david and liza vid that this request was based on, and I have the attention span of fresh gravy so I didn't watch it either lmao. But I had a bit of an idea in mind for this more like Mason's fifa forfeit vid with Chunkz (let's be honest that vid was hilarious I still watch it sometimes for laughs lmao) anyway I hope that's okay. Also this features other players too bc why not

Warnings: contains some curse words probably, slight mentions of sexy times at the end, also I have no idea how waxing actually works as my only knowledge comes from that Mason vid so,, this is probably not accurate sorry xoxo

Hope you enjoy babes x

It wasn't unusual for Jack to invite some of his friends over whenever he had a day off. In fact, his days off were usually spend either with you or with his friends, most often opting for eating out with you before getting back and playing fifa with the boys for well past midnight. Today was no different. You had occupied yourself with a book and and cup of tea in your shared bedroom, while Jack was downstairs with his friends playing fifa. Their yelling and laughter could be heard even from behind the closed bedroom door. Not that it bothered you too much: as long as they were having fun and cleaning up after themselves once they left, it was fine by you.

However, it surprised you to hear footsteps coming up to the stairs, then down the hallway to your room. They had everything they needed downstairs, and never before had they bothered you upstairs, so why would they now?

A knock sounded on your bedroom door and you yelled out a quick 'yeah' as you closed your book and sat up on the bed, curious as to what it was they needed.

"Hey angel." Jack said as his head popped through the door before making his way into your bedroom, sitting down defeatedly onto the edge of your bed. He had a slight pout on his face, and bit his bottom lip nervously as he looked at you.

"What's wrong, baby? Please tell me you didn't break anything down there." You said, a stern look plastered on your face.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just- uhm." He hesitated as he looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt instead of maintaining eye contact with you. Worry took over your features. What was he up to now?

"We were playing fifa forfeit, right. And Ben said I had to wax my legs if I lost-"

"Oh my god, Jack!" A releaved sigh left her lips. It was never gonna be anything serious with these boys anyway. She should've known better. "Did you lose, though? Please tell me you did."

He only nodded in response, and she let out a squeel as she fell back on the bed.

"That's hilarious, I was worried there for a second, but this is great."

"Don't get too excited. The boys asked if I'd ask you if you had any wax. But I just came up here to chat for a bit and then I'll go back down saying you didn't."

"Now, why would you do that?" She said as she looked at him with raised brows, challenging him.

"You know, I actually do have some strips left, I'd be more than happy to wax your legs. Besides, a bet is a bet, Jack. You can't just back down now." She smiled thriumphantly and he groaned in response.

"Why won't you just have my back with this?"

"Oh, I can wax your back too, no problem."

"Not what I meant sweetheart."

"I know." She smiled cheekily as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, before telling him she'd be downstairs in a bit with all the necessities to wax his legs.

"Hey boys!" She hollered as she rushed down the stairs with her wax kit, the boys looking up at her. Jack was already sitting on the chaise longue with his legs up. His shorts ridden up a bit more than usual to expose his muscular thighs. The others sitting next to him on the couch, ready for the action that was about to unfold.

"Ready, babe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she sat down her kit.

"Oh I sure am!" Ben replied with a big boyish smile on his face.

"I'm sure you are, Ben." She chuckled as she ruffled his hair. He'd usually have it gelled back whenever he had a game, but kept it natural and curly when he came around theirs. It was her favourite look of his, perhaps partly because she could mess with his hair more easily.

"I remember when I had this done, hurts like hell. Good luck bro!" Mason interjected, patting Jack's shoulder in mock-sympathy.

"Yeah, I cannot wait to see you cry like a baby. I love you for coming up with this, Ben."

"Babe!" He whined. "You're supposed to support me here."

"Well I am supporting you, I'm the one waxing you. Trust me, you do not want to have this done by someone who has no idea what they're doing." You said as you warmed up a few strips of wax between your hands.

"Seconded." Declan replied with a serious face. Everyone looked at him in confusion; he had never told them about getting waxed before, but it sounded like an intriguing story.

"I'm not even gonna ask, mate." Jack said. Horror stories would not make this experience any more bearable for him. It left Dec pretending to be upset, eager to tell the - no doubt ridiculous - story.

"Alright, I'm gonna get these on." You interrupted their banter, tearing the strip to reveal the sticky substance underneath.

She put the strips on his leg as the boys chatted away. Just as she was putting the fourth strip on, Jack swatted her hand away.

"You have to put all those on?" He questioned her.

"Well the forfeit did say 'legs'. As in, both legs. Completely." Declan argued.

"I did say that. But that's a bit too harsh innit?"

"Yeah, there's already three strips on now, let's see how he gets through those first." Mason offered.

"Will hurt like hell with that much hair." Declan hit Jack's leg for emphasis.

"No doubt." You laughed as you smoothed out the strips once more.

"Ready, Jack?" You asked as you hold the edge of one of the strips, ready to pull it off.

"Wait, wait I gotta film this!" Declan was quick to exclaim as he took out his phone, much to Jack's dismay, who had his hands in front of his face as he waits for the inevitable pain of ripping off the strips.

"Alright, 3. 2. 1!" The boys count down in unison as you rip off the first strip.

"Jesus, Y/N!" An array of curses leave Jack's mouth as he yelps, gripping his leg in pain, his eyes wide with shock. Clearly he had underestimated how much this was really going to hurt, which has all of you rolling over with laughter. Mason is gripping his stomach as he's sitting on the floor, barely able to breathe between his giggles. You're trying to ease Jack's mind and soothingly rub the sensitive skin on his leg, but you're shaking too much from the laughter leaving your lips.

"Oh my lord, and look at the hair that's come off!" Declan hollers as he takes a step closer to properly film the strip that was, indeed, covered in Jack's leg hair. You held it up for the camera as you shrieked at the sheer amount of hair. It's like a lion's mane got glued on the strip.

"Jeez, Jack, you hairy lad." Declan laughs, which earns a grumble from dissatisfied boy. You're pretty sure if Dec wasn't responsible for filming the whole ordeal, he'd be on the ground just as Mason was.

"Oi, what are you crying for, mate? I'm the one in pain here." Jack points a finger accusingly at Ben, and when you turn around you see he has tears in his eyes, breathing coming out in desperate gasps as he shakes his head no, signalling he can't take any more of this banter. It seemed like everyone had at least slightly calmed down, but looking at Ben made everyone burst out in laughter yet again. Mason had tears streaming down his face now too, and you're sure he might piss his pants if he laughs any louder. It even makes Jack chuckle.

"Just get it over with, alright. I don't wanna be in pain any longer." Jack asks you nonetheless, guiding your hand to one of the other strips.

"It can't be that bad." Ben's voice is higher than usual from his earlier laughing fit, but he's wiping the tears from his eyes as he seems to have calmed down considerably. Mason can only nod in confirmation, still unable to form words without giggling.

"I have no problem waxing you lot too, babes." You smile up cheekily at them, which results in loud protests from the boys.

"Now that I would love to see." Jack replies, before looking down at his leg and rubbing the spot that was now rid of any hairs. "Perhaps this would be funnier if there weren't two other strips on me leg." He sighed in despair, staring at his leg with sad eyes. It made you chuckle, but seeing Jack's stern look dericted at you, you quickly focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, next one Jack."

"Lord have mercy."

The next strips don't have any other effect than the first one. It sends all of you rolling on the floor laughing, and Jack with tears in his eyes and red skin on his leg. Dec leaves the room at one point because he genuinely can't breathe, and Mason has to sprint to the bathroom, like you predicted. Meanwhile your hands get shakier and shakier from laughing, and you can barely see what you're doing due to the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Jack's decided to rip the last strip off himself, and you're shrieking with laughter as he pulls at it but chickens out from the pain, resulting in it only coming off halfway. When it is finally off, and all the hairy strips are disposed of, everyone slowly but certainly calms down. You're getting some lotion from upstairs to soothe the stinging, and when Ben orders pizza, it all seems long gone.

Yet when you're watching tv, and Mason steals a sneaky glance at Dec, the both can't help but try - and fail - to surpress their giggles.

It's how the rest of the night continued until the three other boys finally left in the late hours of the night.

"I'll clean, love. Get in bed and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Jack's offering once they're gone, and you're accepting gratefully as you kiss his cheek. The night was fun, but the laughing fits had you beyond tired.

So when Jack slips into bed next to you, you're already in bed with your eyes closed, dozing off.

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?" You mumble as you open your eyes at Jack's whisper.

"Wanna feel my leg?" He asks, but he's already draping his freshly waxed leg over your legs, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You've known the guy long enough to know that he won't stop bothering you if you decline, and the request makes you think of the many times you've asked him to feel your legs after - finally - shaving them again.

So you decide to humour him and softly carress his smooth leg.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" His voice cocky as he questions you.

"Sure, real smooth Jack."

"Wanna have sex with a sexy smooth beast like that?"

You snort loudly at his inappropriate request, shoving his leg off of you in a joking manner.

"Oh come on, don't tell me I went through all that for nothing!" He exclaims in agony.

"No, you went through all that because you suck at Fifa." You deadpan as you grin at him.

His eyes are darker as he watches you intently, and the knowing smirk on your face makes you apprehensive of what he's up to now. He's moving closer, hovering over you and effectively trapping you as his muscular arms hold himself up on either side of you. And next thing you know, he's placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, before trailing down to your jaw. A gasp involuntarily leaves your lips as he nibbles at your earlobe.

"You know with how soft my leg is and all." He starts to whisper in your ear. His voice is husky and smooth - and normally you know what it means. But you have no clue where he's going with this sentence. "Would you mind if I-" And he's pausing again for dramatic effect as his lips graze over your hot skin. "Slitherin." He finally whispers in your ear, accentuating the 's'.

And just like that, you're back rolling over with laughter just like you had been that very afternoon.

#Jack grealish #Jack grealish x reader #jack grealish oneshot #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish fanfic

231 notes · View notes

anabsolutetrainwreck · 4 years

Text

i can hate you sometimes || h. styles

warnings: pre-covid, mentions of sex, swearing, kissing

word count: 2.2k

summary: you and harry have mutual friends, but that doesn’t mean you two are friends. but when harry gets caught in the rain and you’re the closest person he can turn to, it makes for a much more awkward night...

Though you could respect Harry’s artistic abilities when it came to creating music, you could barely tolerate him as a person. Likewise, he wasn’t at all too fond of you. You shared friends in common, which often unfortunately resulted in many a night out with him and your mutual friends.

Yes, Harry was a respectful man. That was perhaps the one thing you could say didn’t irritate you about him. Everything else, the subtle cockiness he played off as jokes; the incessant need to be centre of attention; the bloated ego, which left him thinking he was above everyone else, all of that stuff, you couldn’t stand. But he wasn’t going to stop you from enjoying time with your friends, so you continued to go out drinking with them or go out for big meals with them or on lavish holidays with them. Unfortunately, he had the same mindset. You were both very stubborn.

Going out with your friends when Harry was there seemed like a difficult task at first. But if you sat at the opposite end of the table or stayed fairly distant in a club, the night tended to run smoothly. The one time you’d been left alone was around a year ago when you and Harry had gone out for dinner with Sarah and Mitch. Sarah had gone to the toilet and Mitch had gone to pay the bill. It had been two or three minutes maybe, but it felt like long, excruciating hours. Days, even. You’d distracted yourself by finishing off your wine and trying hard to look anywhere but in Harry’s direction. He’d busied himself with his phone and trying hard to look anywhere but your direction. But, either way, it had been perhaps the most awkward experience of your life.

And now, on a quiet Sunday evening, you found yourself preparing some pasta. Your dog, albeit too big for his own good, was curled up in front of the fireplace. You had your laptop set up on your coffee table, your classical music playlist floating through your house.

It had begun raining heavily about five minutes ago. The droplets were pelting down on your large windows. You had some candles set up and a glass of wine waiting for you on the coffee table in your living room. It was the perfect romantic evening for one.

A knock on your front door took your attention from the boiling water before you. You quickly jogged through to your hallway, opening the door. And, much to your surprise and perhaps disappointment, you were met with the face of Harry Styles. “Can I help you?” you asked, staring at him expectantly.

He sighed, almost embarrassed to ask, but said, “Can I stop at yours until the rain passes?”

You looked him up and down. Stop at yours? Why did that send your stomach into a state of flutters? “Just get an uber,” you said firmly.

He winced, “My phone’s dead. Can you at least let me charge it so I can get an uber?”

You weren’t a fan of Harry (biggest understatement of the year), but that didn’t mean you were an utter asshole. Of course you would let him stop at yours for a little while. Anyone would, right? You sighed, making sure he knew this was a reluctant decision of yours, “Sure.”

He thanked you as he shuffled into your house. He removed his coat and hung it up on your coat rack. Quietly, he followed you into your living room. “Here,” you said curtly, passing him one of your spare chargers.

The entire exchange was even more awkward than last year’s meal with Sarah and Mitch. Benny, your dog, was quite clearly enthralled about the arrival of Harry. He jumped up at the brunette man, his tongue hanging loose. As you tended to your exuberant pasta meal, you could hear Harry petting Benny.

On the few occasions Harry had met Benny, he loved the dog. But, Benny was a dog after all and it was hard to hate a dog. Especially one as lovable and as cuddly as Benny. Harry’s footsteps became louder as he entered the kitchen, Benny, tail wagging, not far behind. It was only when you looked up did you notice Harry carrying your laptop with him. Your first instinct was to tell him to put it the fuck down; it was your laptop - you paid good money for it. But something seemed to stop you from snapping at the man, who was soaked from the rain, in front of you. Usually, you struggled with biting your tongue around Harry. He was just infuriating. “Can I please put something else on?” he asked, gesturing to the screen, which had Spotify open.

You shrugged. You weren’t that bothered if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your collection of great classical records. It was his loss. Besides, your pasta was nearly finished and then you’d dish it up and settle down in front of the tv. “Sure.”

There was a moment of silence after he’d paused to whatever piece was playing. “What’s this?” his voice came suddenly.

You knew exactly what he’d found. And you practically kicked yourself for forgetting you had it. It was your playlist, simply titled ‘sex’. A sex playlist. A playlist for sex. “I didn’t take you as the type to have a designated sex playlist,” he said, smirking.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you grumbled, your cheeks heating up.

“Clearly. Some interesting choices on here, Y/N. Not as many of mine as I thought there’d be,” he said.

There was none. None of Harry’s songs on your sex playlist and, if he was being honest, it kind of irritated him slightly. The thought of you having sex to his voice was an enriching one. But what most definitely pissed him off, was the sight of a couple Liam Payne songs and a few of Zayn’s. “I didn’t think Sign of the Times was right for the occasion,” you shrugged. “Do you want some pasta?”

“If there’s some going,” he said quickly. “I do have other songs you know. Besides, Sign of the Times is a great sex song. Starts off slow, builds to a climax...”

You turned to look at him. Only then did you realise you were actually having this conversation with him. Still, you pressed on. “All songs build to a climax one way or another. It’s called a crescendo.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s fucking called,” he sighed. “I’m the musician here.”

“And yet you can’t appreciate classical music. Anyway, if you’re so convinced you have good sex songs, name a few,” you challenged.

He spoke as he followed you through to the living room. You set his bowl of pasta (you always had a habit of making your portions way too large) down on the coffee table beside the candles and wine. “Okay, Kiwi.”

You hummed in thought, “What if I want something a little slower? Like, Kiwi could totally ruin the mood.”

He shifted in his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up, signalling it had at least a little bit of power. But now he was eating your fresh pasta and discussing sex songs with you, and frankly, he didn’t want to leave. “Woman? You can’t tell me you’ve never had sex with Woman playing,” he said.

“Well, I can. So I will: I’ve never had sex with Woman playing,” you replied; you liked this game.

“Okay, come on. She is the perfect sex song,” he said smugly.

Now this one tripped you up. Because you’d had sex to She before. It had come on when the guy you were sleeping with asked if he could shuffle his playlist. She had come on second, maybe. And those six minutes had been the best of your life. You told yourself it was just the guy you were seeing at the time, and he certainly didn’t mind the compliment. But, in hindsight, you realised it was probably the fact that Harry was singing about living in daydreams in the background. In that moment, the sex hadn’t even been at the forefront of your mind. It was his fucking velvet voice. “I wouldn’t know.”

He smirked, “You’ve had sex to She, haven’t you?”

“No.”

“You have! I knew it.”

“Piss off, Harry.”

You hoped your nonchalant replies would be enough to deter his attention from the subject at hand. But alas, he didn’t seem to pick up on it. That, or he was deliberately ignoring your tone. You were beginning to regret letting Harry into your house. And you weren’t afraid to tell him so. “I wish I’d just left you in the rain.”

He scoffed, “That’s not very nice, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making sure he saw. God, you could really hate him sometimes. “Harry, we’re literally discussing my sex life. It’s none of your business. And a bit personal, don’t you think? You don’t even know my surname.”

You got to your feet and made your way through to the kitchen, placing your empty bowl in the sink. You could hear him behind you, you just wanted to turn around and tell him to give you a moment to yourself. He was like a puppy. Before you had the chance to do so, you felt him lean over, placing his bowl beside yours. He was so close.

Turning around slowly, you were met with him. He was there, right there. You looked up at him. He wasn’t moving. You were torn between pushing past him, making sure he knew you were angry and staying for a while, basking in the sexual tension that was buzzing around in the air. “I do know your surname,” was all he said.

He was so close, his eyes exploring your face as if he’d never seen it before. Trapped between Harry and the kitchen counter, you’d fantasised about this moment for ages. Harry’s face a mere few centimetres away from your own. You could feel his breath on your face. It was warm, welcoming. “Do you?” you choked out.

He nodded slightly. The revelation of Harry knowing your surname was almost surprising to you. You didn’t think he paid that much attention to anything that had something to do with you. Up until this point, standing in your kitchen, neither of you daring to make the first move, you’d thought he only knew your first name because he was obliged to.

You both yearned the simple delight of the other’s touch. All the pent up sexual tension from the last years, longing looks disguised as glares of disgust and the little snarky remarks used as an excuse to talk to each other, all of that began unravelling at the seams. He looked at you and you looked at him, both of you daring the other to make the first point of euphoric contact. “Harry,” you forced out quietly, hoping he’d take that as a sign that he could touch you, kiss you, anything.

“What do you want?” he hummed gently. “What can I give you?”

“Just kiss me.”

You were also embarrassed that, after years of suppressing your enrapturing feelings, you were asking him to kiss you. And still, he didn’t touch you. It was like he was playing some sick game with you. And then the dreadful thought that he might just be doing all of this to give him a means to mock you in the future. If that was the case, he’d have the perfect upper hand over you. “Do you still wish you’d left me in the rain?” he asked, almost taunting you as he left you practically begging for his touch.

You shook your head, “No, no. God, no. Harry, please.”

“Anything you want, darling.”

“Kiss me.”

“Only if you’re sure you want me to.”

“I do, Harry. Please.”

And when he was sure he had your definite consent, he didn’t waste another moment. He placed his large hand on your cheek, the tips of his fingers buried in your hair. His lips on yours was perhaps the most perfect form of ecstasy. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head up to meet his, you were sure you’d travelled to some distant infatuating dreamland you only ever hear about.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, panting slightly, “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t get an uber. Stay with me tonight.”

A smile crept its way up into Harry’s features. He tried to hide how elated he was that you’d proposed he spend the night with you. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, which were parted slightly. All he wanted to do was indulge his need for your perfect taste all night. From the moment the sky went from the most divine lavender colour to the most starry black, to the moment it turned back to the most marvellous oranges and reds in the waking of the sun. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me.”

part two.

#harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry x reader #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

644 notes · View notes

what-do-1000-swords-look-like · 3 years

Note

i love your meta posts but i just feel so defeated with them saying ILY. The only shining thing for me is that it's so early in the season for a couple to say ILY, usually in the rules of TV Land saying ILY so quickly is not a good thing. But IDK I'm not positive atm at all.

Hi, Nonnie! Awww, trust me, I absolutely hear you. I admit, I felt the same watching the episode upon first watch, but when I went back and did a rewatch, seeing what the writers were actually going for, I felt so much better.

This season has not been easy by any means. There is a lot of angst and tension and build-up. We've lost characters that we're used to seeing (even if it's only temporarily) and see characters almost go a bit OOC. I know there was some concern because I think I read somewhere that Tim supposedly stepped away the beginning of this season to focus on Lonestar (I have no idea if this is true or not, but if it is, it kind of makes a bit more sense to the whole disconnected feel for a lot of things with the characters and the story). To me, this episode was the first time I felt like I got Bobby and Athena back. And we almost saw the 118 coming together as a well working unit again (and of course, as family).

I'm not quite sure what's going on behind the scenes, if it's either COVID still or people's schedules, but Karen has almost been reduced to a background prop, only coming forward when she's needed, Denny barely exists, Albert is completely MIA (I'm not sure if this is due to the Madney story line but I don't see why it should be? Since Albert was at a different firehouse and I'm assuming still talks to Buck?), and we have not seen Carla at all up to this point. Even Christopher, we've only seen for what 4 episodes total? Again, idk if something is going on behind the scenes but narratively speaking, it's very frustrating.

So I completely get how you feel, especially when it comes to Buddie and BT atm. Being an SPN veteran (and also a Destiel shipper), I too am gun shy about this whole thing. But one thing does give me hope and I would like to share it with you.

911 has had opportunity upon opportunity to rid themselves of Buddie in the story. If a new showrunner stepped up, even temporarily, they could have certainly kept Buddie at opposite ends (meaning figuratively, not physically) but instead they keep clashing their stories together in ways that Buddie not going canon at some point just doesn't make sense in the story. And I know some people say they're queerbaiting (a la SPN) but I disagree. Not only do we have a different show and different writers, but this show really does give excellent representation. I know some people were disappointed that we didn't get a Mavid kiss last episode, but I think that was due to the actors' comfort levels (I think more Rockamund than La Monde but I don't know that for sure), not the actual story. Some people were also worried with Mavid being a thing that they couldn't go there with Buddie or wouldn't because they already had an MLM relationship in the show. But now we see that Mavid was written out while also being given a happy ending (due to bts drama over Rockamund choosing not to get vaccinated apparently). So now, they're lacking in that representation. Over on Lonestar, Tarlos is one of the most popular ships, if not the most popular. Buddie is equivalent to that and the writers and Tim know it. And they know they could easily keep giving us emotionally angsty scenes with Buddie but what they're actually doing is taking their sides of the coin (because Buck and Eddie started out as two sides of the same coin) and are melting down each inch of that coin in order to lump it all together into one story. They have had chance after chance after chance to back off on Buddie, to begin to try to untangle this big knot of strings they've put together over the last two seasons, but they haven't. And my guess? They're not going to.

So hang in there, Nonnie. It is going to happen, I'm 99.9% sure of it. To me, after the rewatch, this ILY is nothing for either Buck or Taylor to write home about. Taylor means it, it's clear from her reaction after she says it. But look at Buck's reaction. Look at the 118 in the fire truck scene again, they're making the callback to the 5x02 scene where Buck tells Eddie that if he doesn't love Ana, he needs to end it. And Eddie knows that Buck is in the same position here, but he's not completely pushing it. Because the story isn't letting him, because the writers want Buck to figure this out for himself. Just like they wanted Eddie to figure it out for himself about Ana in the beginning of the season.

So either Buck and Eddie will have a similar scene coming up to the one from 5x02, where Eddie is blunt about it and Buck makes his decision soon after, or Buck will eventually figure it out on his own and make the decision himself. But Buck is not in love with Taylor, she's just the "woman" he's "wanted to spend this much time with since" Ali. I'm not saying he doesn't care about her, but he's not 100% passionately in love with her.

He's not smiling at her like this, even after that ILY:

The only difference between he and Eddie right now is that Carla isn't there to tell him to follow his heart, and he isn't having panic attacks when imagining BT's future. There's a reason Bobby made the point that these types of relationships keep happening to him because he won't talk to the women he dates, and he just goes with the flow and ends up in a relationship before he knows what's happening. ;-)

Plus, it's no coincidence to me that coffee was used again as the prop in the same scene Buck beams at Eddie like that or mentions something he knows about Eddie (while not knowing everything about Taylor). Coffee has been used as a prop romantically in the show for Eddie (with Ana, think 4x06, 4x03 when Eddie was worried about receiving the Hildy coffee maker) and Buck (think 2x08 when he met Ali for their first date, when Abby first asked Buck out in 1x02 I think it was) both before.

It's coming, Nonnie. It's just taking its sweet time unfortunately. But I think they're pacing it and doing it as well as they can so when it finally does happen, it's organic, it makes sense, and it's right. And the naysayers can all keep from having a bitch fit. (well, at least some of them anyway lol)

Hang in there, Nonnie, and thank you for the kind words!!! I hope you have a lovely rest of your night!!! <3

#ask #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fox #911 5x09 #ask answered #buddie is coming #anti bucktaylor #buddie ask

40 notes · View notes

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Could you do number 46. They have amnesia? With Monkie King and MK If you’re still doing the request/prompts

You didn't say who had to have amnesia, anon. Spoilers for episodes up to S2E6 inside.

They have amnesia?

"How is this even possible?" MK asked softly, not wanting to be heard but knowing that Wukong’s superior hearing would pick up most of what he was saying. Though given how distracted he was...

"It shouldn't be!" Tang exclaimed equally as quiet, watching his hero with a mix of curiosity and dismay. "He's the Monkey King, nothing should be able to hurt him like this."

"Maybe he wasn't hurt," Mei offered, watching Wukong herself as Pigsy held up another photograph and only recieved a confused look in response. "Maybe it's magic. He can be affected by magic that isn't directly hurting him, right? Even if it takes something big to hurt him physically a spell or curse could still something."

"That is a possibility..." Tang muttered under his breathe. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as Pigsy seemed to exhaust photographs and illustrations to show the Monkey King. Sandy stood beside them both, Mo curled up in Wukong’s arms instead of his usual place on the big guy's shoulder, and said something in hushed tones that made the Monkey King's ears pull back. "There are no shortages of either that could cause memory loss, hopefully for us temporarily so. And he didn't seem injured in any way when we found him outside the shop... though he shouldn't even be here, he was on vacation! Wouldn't he have told you he was coming back?"

"Maybe..." MK started slowly, watching as Pigsy held up a group of photos and Wukong pointed to one of them excitedly. "But he's been acting... weird since he left anyway. Like he was distracted. I kinda just tried not to worry about it but..." He trailed off, jumping as a loud snap was heard and then wishing he had the staff out in his hands to wrap them around it instead of the mop he just snapped in two. "... crap..."

"You're worried," Mei said softly, laying her hand on her best friend's shoulder. "I am too, even though I may not know the Monkey King that well. But once we find out exactly how much he remembers we can find a way to help him."

"Yeah, about that," Pigsy's voice broke through their conversation as he made his way over. The chef looked perturbed. "So we went through all your pictures MK. He remembers going on the journey, though the details of it are lost, and he knows Mount Huaguo like the back of his hand. But he doesn't remember like 99% of the journey, can't remember any of his monkeys, can't remember us, can't even remember that he's the Monkey King or what that title means." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his snout for a second before continuing. "What he does remember clearly is that he lives alone on an island and that it's the modern day, he went on some big journey he barely recalls... and that he knows MK and that MK is important."

"What?" MK looked away from where he had glanced over to Wukong, staring at Pigsy in disbelief. "Wait, you're telling me I'm the only person he remembers!?"

"Barely!" Pigsy elaborated with another sigh. "Kid, whatever happened to him really messed up his memories. He knows your name and face and that you're important. He kind of remembers training you. But that is it. He doesn't recognize anyone else. And I don't know him that good, but he doesn't seem to be acting like his normal self either."

This was bad. There was no other way to put it. And they needed to figure something out fast.

"MK?" Wukong said suddenly, having wandered up to the group. He still had Mo in his arms, the cat looking up at him in concern. "Is everything alright, Bud?"

It most certainly was not.

"This is my house?" Wukong asked softly, one of the first things he had said since MK and he had arrived back on Mount Huaguo. Getting him home was easy enough, one of the few things he remembered was where he lived after all, but he seemed confused regardless. Perhaps he didn't remember the mountain as much as Pigsy thought he did. "It's... cozy!" He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "When your boss told me I was a king I kind of worried that... well, I don't know why, I was just worried for some reason. Weird."

Weird didn't even begin to cover it.

Pigsy wasn't lying when he said that Wukong hadn't been acting like his normal self. Instead of the loud and boisterous and kind of, admittedly, self important Monkey King MK expected, Wukong was oddly subdued. Maybe it was the amnesia making him weary, but he was acting so much like he had for just the shortest moments at the Lunar New Year festival (both before the fireworks had cheered him up and after the fight with the Spider Queen) that MK was starting to wonder...

"I really do live alone except for my monkeys, huh?" Wukong said softly, one of the aforementioned monkeys looking at him in their own concern.

When he saw them face to face he seemed to recall at least a bit. That he cared for them in some capacity both as an actual caregiver and as "I guess a King is right" as Wukong put it. But while he knew each one on the island by name before he couldn't recall a single one now. But MK remembered that the little one that followed them inside was called Yue, partly because he had been the one to help name her.

Knowing that Wukong likely didn't remember that day, let alone how important it had been to him to include his student in this endeavor, made MK's chest hurt.

"Yeah, it's, uh... yeah," MK attempted to confirm, coming off as awkward as he felt internally. Everything about this was awkward. But MK could not, and would not, leave his mentor while he could only barely recall how to navigate his own home island. "So... we didn't exactly get that much to eat at Pigsy's... you hungry?"

The two ate in moderate silence. MK didn't want to force Wukong to feel awkward by asking him about topics he couldn't remember (the last few confused and then apologetic smiles made him feel too bad to try again). He managed to find something, at least, however small it was.

Wukong seemed to remember little bits and pieces about himself. Not everything, obviously, but he remembered some important things. He knew he was immortal and invincible. He knew that he was very very old. He knew he was technically not a regular demon monkey but a stone monkey born out of a... well, a stone. And he remembered his dietary preferences.

This last one was news to MK, who had never actually seen him eat more than peaches and peach chips and food made from his own hair (which was not something he was looking forward to trying again). But it made fashioning something for them to eat easier. Something simple, rice for both of them with fresh peaches (he had so many of these things in his fridge and MK did not know how they lasted without spoiling, but he did not ask) for his mentor and rice with some tofu and green onions for MK (simple, but with seasoning and sauce that for some reason had his own initials on it tasty, he had to remember to ask about that... after).

It was... kind of nice, the situation aside.

"... am I your... absentee dad?"

And there that went right out the window and right into the volcanic inferno of the flaming mountains!

MK nearly choked on his rice, barely managing to chug a glass of water before managing out a "HWUH?" in his mentor's direction.

"I-I'm sorry!" Wukong stuttered out, the uncertainty in his voice sounding wrong. "I just... I thought... there's stuff in here with your name on it but there isn't a place for you to stay, the second room is just storage, so I thought..." He trailed off, biting his lip before sighing. "You told me you were my student. But that... it's doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel wrong but it feels... sorry."

Taking a moment to breathe in deeply, MK steeled himself.

"No, don't apologize," he started, setting his bowl to the side and staying quiet for a moment. "No, you're not... my dad. But I noticed those things too. I've never really been inside your house all that much, only a couple times before you left and only twice since. You don't..." He paused, trying to find the right words to express himself. "I guess I'm just realizing there's a lot of things you don't tell me."

"... it'd be kind of awkward if I just ruined some kind of big thing I was gonna tell you when I got back," Wukong said through another bite of a peach.

"Yeah, I doubt you were gonna tell me you'e adopting me," MK laughed out awkwardly... but that awkwardness lingered long after the conversation moved on to how much of the stuff in the house he remembered.

MK woke up in a sleeping bag in a room that didn't belong to him. He was confused at first, sitting up quickly and looking around before realizing that he was just in Wukong's house. On the floor of Wukong's bedroom, actually. The Monkey King had insisted that he could not sleep on the couch, comfortable as it looked, and they looked around in his storage room for any alternative until they found this.

It was comfortable enough. But not so comfortable he slept through what had woken him.

It sounded like crying.

Not loud, not enough to wake most people. But MK was already highly stressed from the situation and had developed much better hearing since obtaining the Monkey King Powers (how he had thought he needed to learn super hearing that one time he did not know now that he thought about it). So he picked up on the soft sniffs and whimpers and shakey breathes and now he would not be going back to sleep until he figured out what was up.

"Monkey King? You sure there isn-" MK froze as he turned to his mentor's bed, only to find it empty.

Well. Shit...

That probably answered that question.

MK wasted no time in jumping to his feet rushing out of the room and toward the crying before freezing in the door way to he living room.

Monkey King was sitting on the floor, TV on and VR set still strapped to his head.

"Oh... no..." MK muttered softly, making his way inside to stand behind Wukong. "Hey... Monkey King? What are you doing?"

Wukong flinched, he'd never seen him do that before, and gripped his controller tighter. He heard it creak worryingly under his grip.

"I... I saw this game earlier," he started slowly, and MK didn't need him to explain which one it was. The case, familiar to him now, was sitting in plain sight on the floor before them. "I dunno, it just... it felt important. And I couldn't sleep so I decided to go through some more of my stuff and... and..." He took in a shakey breathe, putting the controller down and taking the VR headset off. "I... it was weird looking at myself. Listening to myself tell me what do to. But it felt familar. So I kept playing and..."

MK put a hand on his mentor's shoulder and looked at the screen. He'd made it to the in game store, the temple. There Tripitaka, Tang Sanzang, resided to give the player passive abilities. "How long have you been playing?"

"An hour maybe?" Wukong offered, wiping the tears from his face. "I made it to Zhu Ganglie but I. I couldn't. I didn't want to... MK, I feel like I should remember these people. I can't look at them without feeling... sad. Guilty? I can't help but feel like I did something wrong to them?"

And MK's chest hurt once again, knowing that somewhere deep down in Wukong he hadn't completely forgotten his companions from his journey centuries ago. He should have pieced it together when he played. The art, the dialogue, the placement of the monk... he'd never seen the game on store shelves before either, never even heard of it.

But Sun Wukong had played this game for 10,000 hours.

"They're, uh... They're the people who were on your journey with you," MK started as he sat on the floor by his mentor. "You haven't gotten to Sha Wujing, but he's there too. So was Bai Long Ma. I could... tell you about them? I don't know all the stories by heart like Tang does, but I can try."

"You don't have to do that," Wukong said much more assuredly and firm than before. "If I did something that made me feel like this that should be my own burden to bear, not yours."

"Yeah... but I want to help you anyway."

The two sat in silence for a moment before Wukong stood and made his way into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a small bowl of peaches and a wrapped pack of pears (once again with MK's initials on it). He sat on the couch, gesturing for his student to join him before he spoke.

"I appreciate the offer, I do... but I'll be able to learn that on my own before my memories return," Wukong said, biting into one of his peaches with a sad smile. "You said Tang, the guy from the noodle shop, knows them. I can ask him tomorrow... well, later today. But as I said before, that isn't your burden to bear. And I don't want to put that on you. And even though I remember you the most out of everything it feels like I don't know you as much as I should. So, if neither of us is going to sleep again any time soon... tell me about MK?"

"... When I moved into the apartment above Pigsy’s I took on MK as a nickname."

Wukong looked up in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened and he put all his focus on his student with a soft smile. "OK..."

The two talked for only roughly another hour, Sun Wukong listening to MK tell him anything he felt comfortable telling him. When he woke up he was back in the sleeping bag, the soft snores of the Monkey King resounding above him.

As he laid awake, the small monkey Yue having made her way inside to sleep on his chest making a good excuse to not get up, he wanted to mull over everything he had learned. He'd learned more about his mentor in the 6 waking hours they spent together in his home than he had his entire apprenticeship, and the same went the other way.

MK wondered just why Sun Wukong hid all this from him so far. For so long. And he knew now he couldn't have possibly been on vacation. Not when it resulted in this. The Monkey King had been hiding so much from him and it clearly wasn't limited to what he was doing behind his back.

But right now Sun Wukong trusted MK, him coming back with him to Mount Huaguo was evidence enough of that. And MK trusted him as he was now... but didn't know how much of Sun Wukong from the past to trust anymore. He needed to get his mentor's memories back. And he needed to get answers.

Sun Wukong slept on, oblivious to the conflict in his student's head.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #amnesia fic #mk #qi xiaotian #sun wukong #monkey king #dad wukong hints #prompt fill #the amnesia is magic so it is not an accurate representation

151 notes · View notes

maraudereestauderelb · 4 years

Text

Touched

A Duff McKagan smut One Shot

Prompt: You go to a concert with one of your friends and band mates, who's having a thing with no other than the band's guitarist Slash. After the show you get to meet Duff McKagen and somehow end up having your first time with him.

MASTERLIST

Warning: sex (duh)

"They're good aren't they?", Y/F/N shouted over the loud music. "Amazing!" "Told ya!"

We were dancing along to the loud music and enjoying ourselves. It had taken her quite some time to convince me to come with her instead of heading for the Troubadour with our other two band mates. Apparently coming with my bassist had been the right choice though.

After a world tour, a successful album and quite a bit more money in my bank account than before we had left LA, I still felt more at home right here. In a rundown club on the strip with a still upcoming rock band on stage.

Y/F/N and I had fit in perfectly. Nobody would recognize just the two of us having a great time and getting drunk. Except maybe the group of aspiring musicians and rising rock bands of the strip. In this circle everyone knew everyone, knew in which bands they had played, who they were associated with, had partied together before and so on and so forth.

That was exactly the reason why we had ended up here. The lead guitarist used to play in a band called Road Crew and had surely attended one of the parties at our trailer before. Y/F/N knew him and she had told me he was in a new band that was very close on getting a record deal. "You gotta check them out! Heard they're fuckin good", had been the argument that had won me over in the end. Not so much her initial reason to come here. That being the fact that apparently the guy had been an awesome fuck and she wanted to get laid by him again.

Now being here, I didn't regret it. I was having fun! And I was back in my usual habitat and in a situation that was familiar. If after the concert she wanted to leave with her black haired curly-head she was free to do so. Either I'd bump into someone I knew or would simply head home and call it a night.

The singer seemed familiar as well and if I remembered correctly Nikki had left his ass outside at one of their parties.

"Yo, what's the lead singer's name again?", I asked Y/F/N. "Oh that's Axl. Hollywood Rose, remember?" "Oh yea, right!"

I got why those boys were apparently very close to making it. Shit, was Guns n' Rosesgood!

Y/F/N had successfully gotten us all the way through the crowd to the stage, where we danced and sang along some more until the band was finished.

A few moments after the last song had ended the club put on some generic rock music and blasted them through the speakers.

"You gonna head backstage or wait here?" This wasn't the type of club in which the band would go off stage and head backstage never to be seen again. They had a small room for all of them to change and would then most likely come out to party. I knew, because we had played here before.

"He saw me, so trust me, he's gonna come to me", she grinned, and I once again admired her confidence.

It didn't take too long before Slash really showed up. He greeted me as well and congratulated on our album, so I told him what a sick guitar player he is. I give credit where it's due.

But I also understood that it was probably best for me to piss off now. So that's what I did. I figured I'd get one last drink and keep my eyes open in case of seeing anybody I knew. And for real I spotted a few people I knew from college who quickly waved me over.

After telling them the generic shit everybody wanted to know coming back from tour, it actually turned into a lot of fun to party with them. No coke but sure as hell a lot of alcohol.

It was hours later when they decided to leave and I had actually planned to leave with them

when I spotted a barkeeper, I knew. He had also attended a bunch of our parties and was a cool guy. So I sat down at the bar and joked around with him some more as the club kept getting emptier.

The club surely was anything but empty at one point, neither was it packed. It wasn't so crowded anymore, and I had completely lost track of time when someone sat down on the barstool next to me.

I didn't pay much attention and simply took another sip from my vodka lemon until he said: "You know, your friend's already gone, right?"

I turned to face him and recognized him as one of Slash's band members, right after I had been speechless for a moment because of how handsome he was.

"Yea, I know", I nodded and added grinning: "So is your guitarist, right?" "Obviously", he answered laughing: "Should've seen him backstage after the concert, couldn't get to her fast enough!" I joined his laughter, finished my drink and looked around. "Your remaining band member's left with a groupie as well, huh?" "No, fuckin idea where they are", he smiled and waved over to Jimmy, the barkeeper: "Another one of these for the little Rockstar here and I take whatever she has."

"Thank you", I told him with a soft smile. He waved it off: "I'm Duff McKagan by the way." "Y/N Y/L/N", I replied. "I know, was at one of your trailer parties before ya guys became famous." "Oh were you?", I asked surprised. I would've bet I'd recognize such a pretty face. Blond, tall, bassist. I was in fuckin heaven.

"You then ones with the trailer with the IV in the living room, right?" "Yupp, that's us", I nodded with a smirk: "Then I'm sorry for not recognizing you..."

"Don't worry bout it", he smiled: "Doubt we got the chance to talk...not that I wouldn't have wanted to..."

"We should have! Then I probably would've listened to you guys sooner! And Oh. My. God. You're amazing!", I gushed excitedly. "Thanks! Hoping it'll get us where you are now." "You'd have to be a complete idiot not to fuckin sign you!"

"I fucking hope so", he sighed and took a big gulp from his vodka: "You the song writer, right?" He suddenly changed the topic.

"Yes, why?" "I dunno", he shrugged: "When I first saw your music video on TV I couldn't help but fuckin wonder what complete asshole hurt this beautiful girl..."

His words hit me like a fucking train, because they reminded me of my former best friend Nikki Sixx, whom I had been stupid enough to fall for, but soon my drunken brain focused on something else: He thought I was beautiful...

"An asshole that's no longer a problem", I laughed. "Well cheers to that", the blond guy smirked and clicked our glasses: "Lucky me."

I returned his smirk and soon felt his hand on my thigh.

"How come you didn't leave with a groupie?", I tease him and sip on my glass. "Not my thing..." "What an utter liar", I thought. "And also", he went on: "I saw you in the crowd dancing next to your friend and knew exactly who to go for."

The way he looked into my eyes send chills through my body and I quickly took another sip from my drink.

"You alright?", Jimmy asked from further away to make sure I was fine, and I quickly nodded.

"You're pretty confident, huh?", I asked Duff. "Why?" "Well, what if that one girl you decided to go for wasn't interested?", I teased him.

Was I interested? I mean...damn he was hot and watching him on stage had been hot! His touch on my thigh made me feel hot! But for fuck's sake I didn't knowhim!

"That would be pretty sad for both of us", he shrugged and winked at me before looking at his glass and away from me.

Was he right? God, I could already feel the heat inside of me rising and a quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had seen him shirtless on stage and wondered what it would feel like to touch him.

But damn it, I was drunk!

He lit a cigarette and I gave my everything not to stare at his lips for longer.

"I liked you better when you were funny and not seductive", I shrugged as well with a smirk and made him laugh. "Ouch, thanks!", he replied smiling: "In that case you'd have loved to see me lookin like an idiot when I got to Slash and your friend hours ago just to realize your gone."

"Maybe you should've hurried more, you know, the way your friend Slash did", I teased him more and calmed my nerves.

"He's just a funny guy", I told myself: "Joke around with him some more and then get your ass back home."

"Well, in the end you waited here for me anyway." "Rockstars don't wait for anyone", I joked and took the cigarette from him to take a drag as well. I could tell he was staring at my lips this time but was ripped out of his thoughts when I handed it back.

He cleared his throat and said: "Always wanted to fuck a rockstar."

I almost choked on my drink. That was my sign. The cards were on the table. I should tell him that this certainly wouldn't be the night he'd get what he wants and leave! But I was curious... so damn curious...

I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him! Maybe I could at least make out with him...find out what his lips felt like...there was nothing wrong about that.

"That's what the girls always tell you?", I tried to mock him but was too nervous to sound convincing. "You're quite a joker, huh?" "At least tryin to..."

"It's cute", he admitted. "Good, because I never run out of stupid jokes..."

"Trust me, I'd know a way or two to shut you up", he grinned to himself and took a last drag before he stubbed the cigarette out.

God, his words went straight to my core and put pictures in my head I hated but at the same time desperately wanted to happen. I wanted to find out what he wanted to do!

"Ya know what I always wanted to find out?", I asked without thinking about it twice. "What is it, gorgeous?" "If it's true that bass players don't just have skilled fingers when it comes to playin instruments."

I cracked the joke before I had thought about it. Why? Because I always had to listen to idiots tell me that and because I somehow really wanted to find out.

His smirk grew winder than I had seen it all night and it made me knees weak. "I can definitely show ya that."

"How about you first make me shut up?"

I had barely finished my sentence before I felt his free hand in my neck and soon enough his lips on mine.

I felt like melting right then and there! His lips moving against mine felt so good! But what started as a rather innocent kiss quickly became more heated. I grabbed the hem of his leather jacket, not to pull him closer but because I needed to hold on to something, anything."

His lips were moving against mine before he gently captured my lower lip with his. It was hard not too moan on the spot! And even harder when I tasted his tongue.

I damned those stupid barstools! I wanted him closer, needed him closer.

When we finally separated again my entire body was totally antsy!

"Speechless?", he asked teasingly. God, he was so damn hot!

I tried to think of something witty and fun, but I couldn't summon a single proper thought.

"You know...to prove the other thing we should probably move this somewhere more private...", he whispered into my ear and hadn't goose pumps already covered my entire body they definitely would have after he seductively kissed my neck.

I should tell him no. I should move my fucking ass back home.

But when he leaned back again and all I could think about was how I buried my fingers in his blond hair, I just nodded...

He had his arm around my waist when he let me out of the club and down strip. It was still dark and it wasn't hard to tell that there were still a bunch of parties going on in other places as well. Like I said, I had long lost my sense for time.

"My place ain't far from here", he told me and I nodded. Excitement was bubbling inside of me and gosh, I couldn't wait to kiss him again!

All worries and negative thoughts had been long gone as we walked through the cold night. I kept looking at him from the side and tried to hide the excited smirk on my lips. But

damn, he was even taller than I had guessed and looked so handsome in the dim glow of the streetlights.

I didn't know what to say. Where words needed?

I realized how he eyed me as well and a smug smile appeared on his lips. Shit, I wanted him. I had never felt this need for someone before, but I had also never allowed myself to get this carried away.

I bit my lower lip and tried to clear my thoughts but that attempt was quickly thrown completely over board when he suddenly pressed my back against the closest wall and kissed me. The kiss almost took my breath away.

Here I was standing on the strip with my back against the wall of some club and making out with a complete stranger. And it felt so right.

"Duff", I whimpered against his lips in a needy tone. "We should probably keep going, huh?", he smirked a little out of breath himself. "Except you consider this somewhere more private", I said with a grin on my lips but felt how he led me on with his arm around my hips once again.

"Wouldn't mind", he shrugged and lit another cigarette: "But I wanna take my time with you."

I swallowed hard and accepted the cigarette he wanted to share with me.

The next five minutes of us walking passed mainly without much talking but then I found myself in his one-bedroom apartment.

Alone with him now I felt the nervousness set back in.

So this was how it's gonna be?

"You want somethin to drink or anything?", he asked from behind me and I shook my head. Soon I felt him against my back with his arms around my body and his lips on my neck and shoulder.

I suppressed the low moan that had wanted to escape my lips and simply leaned back against him.

He had soon gripped the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. A shiver ran through me but his warm hands that travelled my body soothed me and quickly found the clasp of my bra and opened it.

He was still kissing my neck when he whispered: "Turn around to me." I obeyed immediately.

The sight of my bare breasts exposed before him made him fight to contain his arousal as he hardened in his boxers. He lowered his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple. He sucked gently and I failed to find something to hold onto.

It was weird to be almost naked in front of him while he was still fully dressed, at the same time it made me feel excited.

"Get on the bed, I got something to prove", the blond haired told me smirking and I nodded. I tried not to run to the bed and could barely believe how caught up in the moment I was. My entire mind was foggy!

I watched him take off his leather jacket before he walked over to me and moved my thighs apart so he could lay down between them.

I could feel him hard against my center through our clothes but before the nervousness consumed me he had his lips on mine again and consumed my senses instead.

His body was pressed against mine and he traced his fingers down my body. He stroked over my thighs and spread them even more before moving to my panties.

Through the fabric he pressed his hand against me and gently rubbed me. A soft moan left my lips and I stirred underneath him and spread my legs further. Duff smirked against my breats and took my nipple in his mouth again as he began to rub me through my panties. His fingers ran over my slit as heat began to pool and I whimpered.

"Duff", I moaned softly.

He pulled away from my titts and brought his lips to mine while his fingers rubbed at my clit.

My eyes were closed, and I was lost in the moment, but I managed to bring my hand to his head and tangled my fingers in his blond, long hair. My lips parted as another soft moan left them and Duff pushed his tongue inside my mouth, massaging my tongue with his own.

His fingers were moving in circles over my clit and I whimpered against his lips as my panties became more soaked with each move he made.

I moaned and writhed on the bed as his hand travelled beneath my panties. Both of us moaned as he ran his middle finger between my folds, feeling how wet I was.

I whined his name again and lifted my hips to meet his hand.

He pushed his erection against my thigh and instinctively I reached down and stroked him through his pants.

"God you’re so wet for me", he growled in in my ear.

I bit my lip and raised my hips when suddenly he pulled away from me.

He knelt on the bed and smirked at me before ripping my panties down my thighs and tossing them to the floor.

My heart felt like it was about to pump out of my fucking chest.

He moved between my legs and crashed his lips against mine.

His fingers made their way back to my core and he pushed his middle finger inside me with ease, making me gasp.

"You want me to fuck you?", he pulled his finger out teasingly slow.

I bit your lip and without thinking I nodded as he pushed his finger back in.

He added a second finger, stretching me slowly: "But not yet."

He pulled his fingers away and I whined at the emptiness. But before I could protest Duff spread my legs apart and laid between them.

He ran the flat of his tongue along my slit, making me gasp and clutch at the sheets.

His tongue ran over my clit in two slow strokes.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and let out a moan.

His tongue ran over my clit in slow circles and he reached his hands up to squeeze my breasts. When he sucked at my clit I let out another moan into my hand and Duff pulled away.

"Oh No, baby", he told me and moved my hand from my mouth: "I wanna hear you."

I bit my lip and watched as he went back to his slow licks and his eyes never left mine as he ran his tongue over me. I felt like I was burning.

I squeezed my eyes shut and reached down, wrapping my fingers in his blond hair and raised my hips to meet him. He pulled back, only slightly and ran his fingers over my slit. He let out a growl as he watched, pushing two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

"Duff", I gasped and already felt extremely full. "Don't panic", I told myself and threw all worries away when he began to pump his fingers in and out of me, slowly at first before he increased his speed.

"You like that, baby girl?"

I moaned in response and he stopped his movements. He sucked at my clit and the change in pleasure made me squirm.

I whined and lifted my hips to meet the strokes of his tongue.

He moaned against me and the vibrations sent pleasure soaring through my veins. He began pumping his fingers once more, curling them against my wall and rubbing against my gspot.

I writhed on the bed, clutching at the sheets because of the amount of pleasure.

"Fuck..."

"You gonna cum for me doll?", he growled against me.

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as my orgasm coursed through me. MY walls clenched around his skilled fingers and his tongue didn’t stop running over your clit, making my legs tremble.

When my orgasm started to slow down he got up and took his clothes off, throwing them anywhere. Before he sat back down between my thighs, I watched him put on a condom through barely open eyelids.

Without a warning and therefor without giving me the time to over think this he plunged his cock into me. I gasped at his size and raked my nails down his back.

The pain was sharp and unknown.

"God you feel so good baby."

He crashed his lips against mine, stifling my moan as he pulled out of me slowly.

"So tight." He pushed into me again. I was frowning and pushed my eyes closed as I was trying to adjust to him. Fuck, he felt so good at the same time this hurt so bad but in the best way possible.

I moaned and ran my hands over his back as he set a pace with deep and slow thrusts. He wanted me to feel every inch of him entering me and he lost himself in the little whimpers I made as he pushed into me. After a few more thrusts when the pain was starting to die down, he pulled out of me and knelt on the bed.

"Rollover", he ordered.

I bit my lip and obeyed, kneeling in front of him on all fours. Duff let out a breath as he looked at my ass.

I felt him run his cock over my center before he pushed into me once more.

"Duff...", I hissed.

His change of angle set a whole new sense of pleasure and he set a faster pace. It hurt but felt so good... His cock slammed into me and I collapsed against the mattress, falling onto my elbows, arching my back more in doing so.

He brought his hand down swiftly, slapping my ass and making me gasp.

Duff gripped my hips and I moaned between breaths as he picked up a fast and hard pace, slamming into me hard and fast. He leaned forward and pulled my hair into a ponytail, his thrusts never slowing down. With a gentle tug at my hair he pulled me back onto all fours and with his spare hand he reached under me.

His fingers found my clit and he rubbed clumsy circles. I bit my lip, trying to contain my moans and arched my back. He leant over me, his breath on my shoulder and hearing his staggered breathing sent me into overdrive. He released his grip in my hair only to wrap his hand around your throat gently and pull me back enough so he could turn my head around to kiss him. Just what I needed.

"You gonna cum for me?"

I attempted to nod, which proved difficult with his grip on my throat. He didn't wait for an answer though and rubbed his fingers over my clit faster.

"Cum for me, babygirl."

I lost all control, my eyes rolling back as the waves of pleasure rolled through me, sending shivers all over my skin. His pace was sloppy now and I knew he was almost ready as well. He slowly pulled away and turned on his back so I knelt down on wobbly legs. I removed the condom and licked along his throbbing cock and he let out a low moan. I took him as deep as I could and began to suck him off until he grasped his cock and pumped it a few times before coming in my mouth.

I swallowed his load and his deep moans send a few last chills through me.

Both of us collapsed against the sheets, a sheer layer of sweat covering my skin as I tried to catch my breath.

"Shit that was good", he exhaled and placed a lazy kiss on my shoulder. "Yes, it was", I thought and grinned to myself, trying to process what had happened.

#guns n roses #smut #duff mckagan #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan smut #duff mckagan x reader

214 notes · View notes

eliemo · 3 years

Text

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

#spiderman virgil #deadpool remus #superhero au #spiderman au #spideypool #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #violence tw #sex jokes #remus being remus #blood tw #injury #sanders sides #fanfiction #writing

198 notes · View notes

fan-fiction-kitty · 4 years

Note

hi !! I love u and all ur writings sm 🥺💕

if it's not too much trouble can I ask for a shuichi x female reader nsfw ? she becomes curious and ask shuichi if they could try 'it' together ? w a bottom reader pls ! <3

I had way too much fun writing this. I just love Shuichi so much. He deserves headpats. Also I’m glad you like my writing!! Thank youuuu <3

Warnings: Loss of virginity, female reader, NSFW

Words: 1,883

Genre: Fluff, smut

“Ah… umm… wait, can you… can you repeat that?” Shuichi stuttered, avoiding your serious gaze. Upon seeing his adorable flustered face, all of your courage had vanished.

“Never mind. It wasn’t too important.” you replied.

The two of you were cuddled up in your bed, a TV show you’d both seen before playing in the background. Shuichi loved to cuddle you and give you attention, but without the noise of the TV, he tended to fall asleep. However, upon hearing you say what he thought you just said, he grabbed the remote and shakily paused the show.

“No I heard what you said, y/n, I just wanted to make sure I heard it right,” he sat up a little and finally looked at you. “You want to… umm… y’know… with me?”

“Shuichi, sex isn’t a dirty word. You’re allowed to say it.”

“I know, it’s just that I’ve never done it before and- well- wait, have you?” he asked. He was tense, but you couldn’t tell if he was nervous, excited, or both.

“No, I haven’t. So, do you want to?”

“Like… right now?”

“If you want to, yeah,”

He looked at you, seemingly trying to decide what to say next. He was blushing like crazy. You had to hold back your little squeal of adoration- god, why did he have to be so cute? Despite this, you were nervous too. You could feel your own cheeks heating up.

Without warning, Shuichi kissed you. He did so with such force that your teeth clicked together. You made a noise of surprise and he backed away.

“Wait, did I do that wrong?” he asked, shyly cupping your cheek.

“You just took me by surprise is all,”

“Sorry… umm,”

He leaned down to kiss you again, this time with a little more warning. The two of you had kissed before, but you could feel that Shuichi was trying to do something different. His tongue was softly poking at your lips but you weren’t sure what he wanted until he gave your bottom lip a nibble and managed to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You shivered as his tongue flimsily explored your mouth. Poor boy had no idea what he was doing, but neither did you so you just let him take the lead. With your lips still locked, he guided you down to the bed and crawled on top of you. One of his hands slipped under your shirt to grip loosely at your bare waist.

He released his hold on your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting the two of you.

“C-can I?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. You weren’t really sure what he was asking to do, but you’d decided at this point to just trust him to do what he wanted. You knew he’d never hurt you.

He tried to pull your button-up shirt over your head without unbuttoning any buttons.

“Wait, hey!” you whined. The shirt was stuck around your neck and you knew with any more pressure, the buttons would probably pop off. “Shuichi, the buttons!”

“Oh! Right…” he said. He pulled down your shirt, unbuttoned a few buttons, then tried again. This time, the shirt came off smoothly.

You gazed up at him, giggling.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m just a little excited is all,” he said, blushing and ogling your bare midriff. You suddenly felt very exposed.

You reached up to unbutton his jacket. You were only able to unbutton one button before he undid the rest and pulled it off. You helped him out of his undershirt and before you had time to look at his chest, he started trying to pull your bra off.

“Shuichi, there’s a clip in the back, you just have to-” before you could finish, he’d managed to pull it over your head. “-that works too, I guess.”

He leaned down to give you a soft kiss, his hand gently squeezing one of your breasts. His delicate touch made your heart flutter and you moaned quietly into his mouth. He moved to press kisses up and down your neck. His hips started grinding into yours and you could feel how hard he was through his pants. You ground back up into him, his bulge hitting your clit in just the right way.

“Am I doing okay?” he asked quietly, his hand moving to your skirt.

“It feels nice, so I think so,” you replied breathily.

“I watched this… video… once so I’m just trying to do what they did,” he admitted. You almost burst out laughing at the thought of your sweet, timid Shuichi watching porn.

You managed to hold in your laugh but an amused breath left your lips.

“Don’t laugh! I was curious!” he responded. You felt him smile against your neck. You gave him a tight hug, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

“Just do what comes naturally, Shuichi.” you assured him.

He pulled back to take off your skirt and panties, leaving you completely nude in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and watched, amused, as he struggled to kick them off without getting off the bed. Eventually he got them off and you hooked your fingers around his underwear.

You hesitated in pulling them down, giving him a look to ask for permission. He blushed and looked away but didn’t give any indication that he wanted to stop, so you pulled them off and tossed them away. His erection sprung free and you tensed up a little at his size. You weren’t really sure how big penises were supposed to be but it intimidated you to think about it being inside of you. He was certainly bigger than your fingers.

Shuichi sat himself between your legs and you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft. He shivered. His cock was warm and seemed to fit in your hand perfectly. Slowly, you began to stroke up and down, watching as Shuichi’s eyes squeezed shut. You sped up a little, but jolted away when you felt it move. It could move?

“It moved!” you nearly shouted, earning a laugh from Shuichi.

“Yeah, it can do that,” he replied. You watched as he made it move again.

You hesitantly reached forward again but Shuichi grabbed your hand and pushed it back to the sheets.

“Can I touch you?” he asked timidly.

“Of course,”

He brought two fingers down to rub at your labia, right above your opening. You flinched and he pulled back, confused.

“Here, let me show you,” you reached forward and held his hand, putting it on your clit. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

“Th-thanks,”

He rubbed small circles on your clit. You tensed up from pleasure and resisted the urge to buck up into his hand. With his other hand he slipped his middle finger into your vagina. You bit your lip and let out a quiet moan. He began to finger you slowly and you could feel every bone in his finger as it slid in and out of you. He added a second finger and-

“Ow!” you squeaked.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed back, pulling his hands away from you. “What happened?”

“You’ve got really long fingernails!”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly planning to… ummm…”

You laughed and sat up to give him a reassuring kiss. Your walls were slightly sore from being scratched.

Shuichi smiled and guided you back onto the bed, crawling over you to give you another heated kiss.

“Can I put it in now?” he asked.

You nodded and kissed him one more time before he pulled away and lined his cock up with your entrance. He pushed the tip and you winced slightly. It felt like your walls were being ripped apart, like a muscle that was stretched too far.

“Are you okay?” he asked sweetly.

“Yeah, just go slow,” you replied.

He shoved his cock in a little more and you sighed, trying to relax. It hurt, but definitely not as bad as you thought it would. He inched in a little more and you figured out that it hurt less when he moved.

“Thrust in slowly, it hurts more when you’re still,” you told him. He did as you said and the pain started to slowly fade away.

The two of you met eyes for a moment and you could see that he was yearning for more. You held out your arms to him and he leaned over, burying his head in the crook of your neck and thrusting a little faster.

He hit a spot inside of you that sent sparks up your entire body and you moaned out. He started moving a little faster and found a nice, steady rhythm that wasn’t too fast and wasn’t too slow. You squeezed him in your arms, overcome with love and pleasure. You couldn’t imagine letting anyone else do this to you.

“I love you,” you breathed out. You nuzzled your cheek against his.

“Gh- I love you too, y/n,” he replied, his voice rough. He lifted his head and gave you a sloppy kiss that you couldn’t quite focus on.

You reached one hand down to rub at your clit fervently. Shuichi was starting to falter a bit and you wanted to cum at the same time as him. He was speeding up, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, hitting against a spot inside of you that kind of hurt. You didn’t want to stop him and ruin his high, though.

With a few more deep thrusts, his hips hit yours.

“Too deep-ow!” you gasped, but he was gone. His hips stuttered as he came, letting out adorable little noises. You felt his semen seep out of him and fill up your insides with warmth. You sped up your movements on your clit, feeling your own orgasm getting close as well.

You let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a squeal as you came, your body shivering and twitching around Shuichi. He continued to move slowly inside of you, letting you come down from your high. Your entire body felt warm and fuzzy.

Shuichi collapsed on top of you. Your nose was buried in his shoulder. God, he was heavier than he looked.

“Can’t breathe,” you squeaked.

He laughed apologetically and rolled over to lay on his side, a dazed look in his eyes. He looked absolutely adorable and you couldn’t help but give him one more kiss before burying your head in his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t last that long,” he said.

“I mean, I didn’t last that long either, so it’s fine,” you replied. How long was sex supposed to last, anyway?

You wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled as close as you could to him. He stroked your back lovingly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Shuichi.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable, sleepy silence until Shuichi lifted his head a bit.

“Hey, shouldn’t you pee? I’ve heard girls can get UTI’s if they don’t pee afterwards,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, I probably should.” you replied.

You reluctantly pulled yourself from his grasp and waddled to the bathroom. That night, not only did you discover that sex was awesome, but also that peeing after an orgasm was a pain in the ass.

I tried to make it realistic but it’s been a while since I lost my virginity so uhh... lmao

#shuichi saihara #shuichi x reader #shuichi x reader smut #drv3 shuichi #danganronpa #danganronpa v3

236 notes · View notes

ginanosakka · 4 years

Text

We Were Kids

Masterlist

We’re Older Now | Next

“You’re going to make her disappear again, Bakugou!” Mina said, frustration breaking through the tone of her voice as they patrolled the streets together once again.

Ever since Y/N had made her grand appearance back into their lives, Mina and Katsuki talked more than ever. Katsuki needed help taking care of Ryu since this was obviously brand new to him so he’d ask Mina for help on how to handle him, and Mina wanted to be kept updated to make sure he didn’t screw anything up. They were both so unsure on how to help you, especially when you were so closed off about your side of the story. Being around eachother wasn’t as bad as either of them thought though, and they could thank you for making them find that out.

It was talk to Mina about Y/N or Kirishima and something about that didn’t sit right with him.

“She’s not that stupid,” Katsuki grunted in his defense. “I was trying to be fucking nice to her, she knows that.”

That was only kind of a lie, he was trying to be kinder, softer for her. That immense guilt that weighed down his chest everyday since you came back into his life only got heavier the more he chipped away at the walls you put up, because he was beginning to realize that he should have never been your hero. Every memory he had where he thought you were acting spoiled and trying to buy him like your father was, he was able to reevaluate it and see that you were genuinely naive and trying to love him. How the hell could he blame you for being spoiled when that’s how you were raised?

He did almost exactly what he did to Deku to you: project his insecurities.

“What did she say? Did she yell at you?” Mina pressed the topic.

The smile completely washed off your face, replaced with that cold expression he had been given before. Katsuki knew now that it wasn’t who you were — you weren’t cold hearted and ruthless like your father, but you were smart enough to pick up on his mannerisms and use them — but it didn’t fail to bring him back to the bigger picture.

The relationship between you two was severed, he was a thick branch on the root of your trauma, and you were strong enough to pretend it was okay, but you refused to forget.

“Yours? Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dynamight. I can build an empire from ashes, and I can easily turn this life you love so much into a personal hell. I don’t belong to anyone, and I owe nothing to anyone. You on the other hand, owe me your respect and your loyalty if you want to be in your son’s life. If anything you are mine, and from what I’ve been told, that’s not something to be proud of.”

He felt that sharp pain hit his chest again and his lungs tighten, “don’t worry about it.”

Mina rolled her eyes and threw her hands up as they walked. “Did you tell her about the press conference today? She hasn’t even considered staying at your place yet.” Katsuki stopped in his tracks as her sentence finished, his whole body frozen in step and Mina face-palmed.

“She’s totally going to kill you.”

The noise from the television playing Ryu’s favorite channel broadcasting hero events was barely audible over the sounds of him stomping and imitating noises of guns and his explosions going off. You expected that your wooden coffee table would once again have his footprints on them, and some of his toys would be scattered on the floor mimicking hurt heroes. Hopefully your couches would still be brown and without burn marks when you went back out there, but that concern was easily put to rest by the one who currently had his eyes on your son while you made them snacks in the kitchen.

You finished platting the carrots and grapes — Ryu would refuse to eat any snack if grapes weren’t included in the mix — and grabbed the two plates with varying portions of the snack you threw together before walking back out into the “war zone”. The moment you were in view with a plate Ryu was at your legs, hopping up and down in anticipation for his afternoon snack he probably desperately needed from all the constant running he did. You put his plate on the coffee table for him to sit on the floor and eat, hopefully without playing around with it, and took a few more steps to the couch where your unexpected guest sat.

“Thank, Y/N! You didn’t have to make me one too,” Kirishima grinned, flashing you all of his sharp teeth in appreciation.

You smiled softly, “it’s really no problem. You’re the only visitor I have that doesn’t cause me unwanted stress, so feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

Kirishima watched you take a seat on the floor next to your child, the one that looked nothing like you, but like the boy that broke your heart. He watched as you smiled at him eating, picking up the pieces of food he’d drop onto the tables, and running your hands through his hair and fixing it to your liking. It was so clear what your priority was — what your life centered around. It was nostalgic because he had seen that look on your face before; with Katsuki.

He couldn’t shake the realization now; you had always been a decent person. When Katsuki would talk down about you as if you were less than, it had nothing to do with who you really were, and had everything to do with the image he had projected on you. What made him feel worse is how he saw how much you loved Bakugou — not only Bakugou, but Mina too — and he still somehow believed what Katsuki was saying. He was the only one of his friends that didn’t feel right using you like that. He watched them all, Kaminari, Sero, Uraraka, and even Momo, but never voiced a single concern.

“I’m sorry.” He gasped as he tried to contain the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He had to close his eyes and clutch his knees, but even that couldn’t stop the waterfall from pouring down his eyes. “I can’t imagine what you must have felt when. . how lonely you must have been. . “

“Red Rio-“ Kirishima cut Ryu off.

“I don’t deserve that hero name when I did something so unmanly!”

“Kirishima!” You scolded, standing up and guiding Ryu to go into the kitchen, giving him a look that told him to just stay put and you’ll speak to him later.

Going back into the living room, you shook your head at the crying man on your couch. This wasn’t something you expected from him, but then again he had more emotional awareness than any of the people involved at a young age. You couldn’t help but wonder what he uses to think of you, what Katsuki told him you were truly like when you two were alone. Seeing him cry and apologize in a fit of obvious guilt didn’t make you feel good, and the thought of it being Katsuki doing the apologizing didn’t bring you any kind of comfort either.

But why?

You took a seat next to Kirishima with your hands cupped together on your lap. “Growing up, I wanted to be just like my dad. . He was this amazing business man that was good at everything, and no one could tell him anything, you know? He made it seem like the only way to succeed was to crush someone else, to have more money than everyone else, and that shaped who I was.” You recalled, going back through your memory as best as you could the same way you did when you sat alone in a hotel room with nothing but pain and resentment.

“All of you saw me like I wanted to be seen, whether I want to admit that or not, it’s true. They did exactly what anyone would have done to me as soon as I stepped into my father’s shoes if I had stayed naive and believed that money and love were the same thing. If you think Katsuki could have done what he did in a lot better way, I agree, but if you think that I should have you all eternally in my debt like my father would have, then you still see me as the man I’ve been running from for a long time now. So. . whatever you’re apologizing for, thanks but that isn’t what I’m looking for.”

Kirishima had stopped crying midway through your life story, finding himself immersed in your point of view. It was absolutely flooring that you weren’t looking for revenge or even apology. Especially from Katsuki after hearing what he had told you all those years ago. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were the girl he knew that only wore name brand dresses and worried more about why her mother bought her ugly shoes than the world around her — the answer was both yes and no.

You were that girl, but now you weren’t mirroring someone else’s views.

His heartbeat picked up and he felt his cheeks grow red as he stared at you. It was wrong how his entire body seemed to steam up when you were sitting there in your lounge wear that wasn’t even close to you looking done-up. You were the mother of his best friend’s kid, it was so much more than just being off limits.

Kirishima turned away from you when you looked at him, and you chuckled. “Don’t start getting all sappy on me now. I may not want to bury Bakugou and Ashido like you guys think, but I still don’t trust their friendship, and certainly not a relationship with the blonde bombshell.”

Suddenly, Kirishima remembered why he came here in the first place, and the whole reason Mina had given him your address. He whipped his head to the television that had been playing the entire time in the background, to see the very thing that he was meant to prepare you for. You followed his gaze in confusion, but that quickly changed to dread when you saw that explosive blonde hair and red eyes looking back at you on your TV. . along with a picture of you and Ryu.

“They are my family, and there is no story for any of you. Where they are isn’t any of your concern, and because of recent events where their lives were threatened they will be relocating to a safe location. There isn’t any need to worry, because I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt them.” Katsuki said, and immediately you could hear the press at the meeting talking and attempting to question him, but he walked off the stage with the same strict expression he had spoken with.

“Kirishima.”

“. . . You’re really pretty.”

“How pretty will I be with my hands around your neck?”

(A/N: Big thanks to @xwackk and @misssugarless for their help <3! I hope you guys enjoy, and I really can’t show how much I really appreciate all the kindness you guys show me on this book! ❤️❤️❤️)

Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @ladybeautiful18 @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha angst #anime x reader

286 notes · View notes

multimetaverse · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x09 Review

Spring Break was a bit of an odd ep but helped move some key plots forward. Let’s dig in!

Well people can no longer claim that Portwell is one sided. We finally got Gina’s pov and she starts off the ep uncertain whether the shift in their relationship means that EJ likes her but by the end of the ep she seems sure of herself and that EJ likes her back. I liked that she didn’t try to pretend that nothing had changed or that she hadn’t noticed potential signs that EJ might like her; it always sucks when tv characters act like idiots.

Perhaps the most important reveal of this ep was that Gina has a much older estranged brother who left her and her mom many years ago. That certainly makes her backstory more tragic and is definite set up for her brother to eventually return.

The writers continue to give Portwell great tropes, capping this ep off with an airport rom-com trope that also calls back to EJ getting Gina the place ticket so she could come back in S1. Not only did Gina keep EJ’s Duke sweatshirt but she altered it to fit her better which is both sweet and bold in the assumption that it was hers to keep. Gina got her sign when not only did EJ show up to drive Gina home and take her luggage but he brought her the granola bar that she had wanted but forgot to pack. I wonder if her posting on her story that she was ubering home after her flight was cancelled was intended to see if EJ would show up since the camera focused on her posting it. Also sweet that she’s taken to calling EJ, ‘ Eej’.

EJ’s opening was good, shows a lot of his character growth from the selfish guy he was in S1 and how he’s learned to value other people which of course leads into his feelings for Gina. We got another great use of the camera as character tonight when Gina was laughing after her facetime call with EJ until she realized that the camera was on her.

Jack was a lot of fun. Though he didn’t really change Gina’s mind over anything like the ep description said he would. Seemed like Gina was largely over Ricky and wondering about EJ at the beginning and the end solidified her feelings for EJ but Jack didn’t really play a role in that, it’s not like he encouraged Gina to reach out to EJ or anything. There’s a vague sense in which Jack being nomadic linked him to Ricky’s unreliability in Gina’s eyes with her craving stability but that’s a stretch. Jack mentioned that the second most dangerous part of a plane ride is when the plane takes off, a hint to the blossoming Portwell relationship where in order to take off one or both of them has to risk a confession even though they could be turned down.

This ep might seem a bit weird in hindsight. The zoom parts probably won’t age well and five years from now people might be wondering why they had Gina hang out with a manic pixie dream boy of sorts for an ep.

The path is clear for canon Portwell in the finale with EJ being Gina’s second chance at romance and her first kiss since they clearly telegraphed it out of nowhere. I’ve been impressed with the great work the writers have been doing since 2x05 to build up Portwell as a ship but also work on Gina and EJ as individual characters; they’ve been the highlight of the season so far.

There was discourse this past week over how well or poorly Portwell has been set up. Objectively very few ships on this show get much in the way of set up or consistent writing. Redlyn and Kowie had barely any set up before getting together. Seblos had none (though in fairness that was due to Disney restrictions) and Miss Jenn and Mike Bowen didn’t have much set up either. Rini did get lots of development in S1 but that’s because they had already dated and were the main ship of the show. The show’s not really about slow burns, if Jenzzara canons in the finale they’ll count and if Rina ever got together they’d also count but neither of those ships have gotten consistent development with Mazzara not being in several eps and Gina and Ricky not even interacting for the past 3 eps.

Is Portwell a slowburn? In a sense since they did feature quite a bit in each other’s S1 plot lines and even had a fake dating plot but it is true that they were platonic and not that close in S1 so it’s a wash. There was clear set up for romantic Portwell in 1x10 with team wonderstudies and Gina staring at EJ (which interestingly enough looked more like set up for Gina to pine over EJ). I think the main problem is that even though we saw Gina and EJ hanging out in the background we didn’t get any scenes of substance between them until 2x05. It was a mistake and there should have been some scene, like EJ and Gina commiserating in 2x03 over being single on Valentine’s Day or something like that. Hell there was even that still from 2x01 of EJ and Gina looking at each other at the piano while they were in the frame between Ricky and Nini singing and having a moment which would have been good foreshadowing but that shot wasn’t in the ep.

Whether Tim just really wanted Portwell to be a surprise in 2x05 as a mid-season twist to throw the audience off of what looked like a Rini/Rina triangle or he was unsure as to whether he wanted to go with Portwell or if he just planned it out poorly we may never know. Regardless they’ve had great writing for 4 eps in a row now which puts them slightly ahead of the 3 eps in a row of development Rina got in S1. I’m sure if someone added up their screen time they’d find that Portwell has more screen time this season than Kowie and more screen time than Redlyn or Seblos got in S1.

Caswell cousins was fun and Ashlyn did in fact paint EJ’s nails.

Set up for Seblos drama next week, it’s refreshing to see Seb being jealous over Carlos flirting with other boys that’s definitely not something you see on Disney shows.

Ricky got some healing done with his mom. Enough to cover their issues? No but this is probably the best this show is capable of. There was a brief mention of therapy sandwiched between other options which sounds more like checking off a box then setting up Ricky actually going to therapy. I noticed Lynne was smiling at odd times like when she told Ricky she knew about his breakup with Nini; whether that was poor directing or acting I don’t know. Who knows if we’ll see Lynne again. As an aside still so wild that Tim named Lynne who’s been a kinda shitty mom after his own mom who he seems to be fairly close with.

Really liked You ain’t seen nothin as a song but not a fan of the Tiktok style vid. I’ll level with you wildcats, I’m too old to really get Tiktok, it just seems like a crappy version of Vine to me. Let you go was good, seemed better fitted for Joshua Bassett’s voice than some of his previous songs. A big sign that they’re not circling back to Rini for a long time for sure. Though on that note we got a bit of a hint that Ricky was Nini’s muse which may one day come back as a way to help bring them back together.

Looking Ahead:

If there’s only 3 weeks left till the Menkies, with only 2 weeks left for rehearsal due to spring break, it’s hard to see East High winning unless North High is disqualified or has to withdraw.

Lily is in a promo photo so she’s likely the unexpected facetime Ricky gets which is what I had theorized. Also makes it much more likely that she’s the party crasher Ricky re-evaluates in the finale though what Tim actually wants to do with those two I do not know.

There’s little point in bringing back the Valentine’s chocolate since there’s no real stakes. Rini are already broken up, Gina hasn’t spoken to Ricky since 2x06, and it’s not like Nini and Gina were ever close so even if they stopped talking to each other it wouldn’t really affect the show in any way.

Seems pretty likely that Second Chances refers to Gina realizing that her first try with Ricky failed but her second chance with EJ won’t and that leads to her sharing her truth and cue the Portwell confession and kiss, perhaps with an assist on EJ’s end from Mazzara. We’ve gone well past the point where Portwell can be brushed off as just a plot device to help Rina but Tim is playing with fire by getting the audience so on board with Portwell if he’s once again going to have EJ lose a girl he likes to Ricky in S3.

Gina certainly needs to talk with Ricky and I do think that happens in ep 11 or 12 and leaves them on better terms. As I mentioned last week, if Tim was smart he’d slam the door on Rina if he’s going with canon Portwell or vice versa. If he wants Rina to be a slow burn he’s really botched the writing this season, it’s been too one sided and too angsty to sustain any kind of momentum or audience interest. They haven’t even interacted for 3 eps now and not only has it not affected the show but it’s inarguably made Gina’s story line much better. Again I don’t think he’s smart enough to not try and do Portwell and then later Rina but he’s accidentally set up the Rina story line to quite easily slam the door permanently on them by having their conversation be closure for Gina who’s moved on and an apology from Ricky who never liked her back as much as Gina liked him.

Not looking forward to seeing Nini basically live out Olivia Rodrigo’s life in future seasons

Curious to see Carlos’ apology song to Seb. Ricky helping him with it is a great way to help start redeeming Ricky’s character in the audiences eye’s. According to Matt there is a bit of a Ricky/EJ rivalry this season and if it’s really happening the sleepover would be a good place to do it though I hope it’s not about Gina.

Until next week wildcats.

#HSMTMTS #Portwell #Gina Porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Seblos #seb matthew-smith #HSMTMTS Reviews

65 notes · View notes

fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

Nifa Strikes Back

Levi hates St. Valentine’s Day with burning passion. The only thing that makes this holiday somewhat bearable to him is a little tradition he shares with his best friend Hange. But after hearing the news that Hange is going to skip the years-long ritual to go on a date with someone else, Levi is faced with conflicting and severely confusing feelings.

thanks @innocent-ghost-demon for the idea! (i’m sorry it took me so long to actually write it lmao)

In Levi's personal opinion, St. Valentine's Day was the worst holiday of them all. It was meaningless and explorative and it served no other purpose than to fill the pockets of flowers and chocolate sellers. Levi hated it with burning passion, getting groceries in the weeks leading to the forsaken holiday was the cruelest torture, as he was immensely annoyed by big pink hearts and cute figurines with naked babies on display. It was almost impossible for him not to gag.

The only thing that quelled his hatred towards this day was a small tradition he shared with his best friend Hange. It had started years ago, when they were still in college. Hange's boyfriend had dumped her - she was heartbroken and upset, while Levi was furious and ready to go, find that bastard and beat the shit out of him for making Hange cry. Naturally, as college students, they knew only one way to deal with that kind of complicated feelings - get absolutely wasted at the local bar. Next morning they woke up with the worst hangovers of their lives and vowed to never repeat the same mistake.

But next year, Hange was rejected by a girl she wanted to ask on a date, and, like a good friend he was, Levi once again offered his shoulder for Hange to cry on. And once again they've found themselves clinging to each other as they shakily stumbled towards their dorm.

They got drunk that year again. And that's what they've been doing every year after that.

It was the only thing that got Levi through the awful holiday. Because of that, he was actually looking forward to it.

***

"Hey, four-eyes," Levi looked over the wall that separated their cubicles, throwing a small piece of paper to get Hange's attention. "Is your place as messy as usual? Or have you cleaned it for the occasion?"

"Huh?" Hange raised her eyes from a screen, pushing the glasses up her nose. "What do you mean?"

Another paper was thrown at Hange. This one landed on her lap.

"The shitty holiday, Hange. It's this weekend. So are we going to your place of mine?"

"Oh," Hange raised her hand, rubbing her neck. "About that..."

Levi frowned, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Did he hear a twinge of hesitation in Hange's voice? That was unusual. What could it mean?

"I can't go this year."

His frown turned into a scowl. "Why the fuck not?"

"I have a date."

Levi blinked. Hange's words... surprised him. And more than that, his own reaction surprised him. He felt displeased, but not just that. He was angry, he was disappointed. He was sad?

"You're going on a date?" he asked, cursing the weakness that colored his voice. What was going on with him?

"Yeah, sorry," Hange gave him an apologetic smile. "With all this work, I forgot to tell you about it."

"That's fine," he answered, even though it wasn't fine. Hange was going on a date, and Levi wasn't fine with it. Why wasn't he? Hange was his best friend, he was supposed to feel happy for her, right? Did it mean that he was a bad friend?

No, Levi decided. He wasn't a bad friend, he was a good one. He was worried about Hange, he had seen her get hurt by someone else, and he simply didn't wish to repeat the experience.

"Who is your date?"

Was it someone from the office, he wondered. If it was their co-worker, that'd be good, Levi could keep an eye on them then. But what if they start dating? Would Hange stop spending her lunch-breaks with him? Would she go and bother someone else if she's bored? Would she pay less attention to him?

Levi shot that train of thought as quickly as it appeared. He didn’t like thinking about it. It made him feel weird. It made him upset.

"It's Nifa's cousin, she set us up. I don't know the guy yet," Hange shrugged. "But if he's at least half as cute as Nifa, then it's worth a shot, eh?"

She looked at him then, tilting her head and smiling. It was Levi's cue to congratulate her and wish her luck. Or express his pity towards the guy. Instead there was an unpleasant, ugly feeling inside him. Hange broke their years-long tradition. To go on a date. With someone else.

And it pissed him off.

"Levi?" Hange reached out to him, grasping the sleeve of his jacket with her fingers. "Are you alright? You look a bit weird. Are you upset that we won't be hanging out this year? I'm sorry about that, I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to," he grunted, shaking Hange's hand off. He turned around, feeling the acute need to leave. The concern on Hange’s face was annoying him. "Have fun on your date and don't worry about me. I wasn't looking forward to our get-together anyway."

*** It took Levi two days to admit his own weakness.

He promised to himself to ignore Hange. To forget about her stupid date and stupid feelings it had provoked in him.

But then he saw Nifa alone in the hallway and he just had to ask.

He approached the girl, stopping just behind her shoulder. "Your cousin," his rough, low voice made Nifa jump. She didn't hear him walk up to her. "Is he a good man?"

Despite a scare Levi just gave her, Nifa's lips lifted into a smug smirk. She looked at Levi, observing him closely. His face was as blank as always, but his shoulders were uncharacteristically tight and his eyes showed even more annoyance than usual.

Her plan was working.

"Cousin Greg?" Nifa twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "He's great! I think Hange would get along with him!"

Cousin Greg wasn't that great actually. In fact, he was quite boring and very annoying. But Nifa wanted to help her superiors admit their feelings for each other and Greg owed her a favor after that time when she had covered for him during the grannies' birthday. Hange didn't have to like him. In fact, if she starts liking him, it'd destroy all of Nifa's plans.

Hange didn't have to like Greg. And Levi didn't have to like the fact that Hange was going on a date with him.

Evidently, the most important part of her plan already proved to be a success.

"He won't hurt four-eyes, right?" Levi asked, a shadow of worry passing through his eyes.

"He won't," Nifa promised with a serious face. Inside, however, she could barely contain herself. Levi was so concerned! It was so cute! Nifa needed to share these news with someone, and quick.

"Alright," Levi pressed his lips together and nodded. "Thanks." He added before walking away, his head bowed and shoulders slumped.

As she watched him go, Nifa's heart constricted painfully. Levi looked so miserable, just like a kicked puppy. She actually felt bad for him.

It was for his own good, she had to remind herself. She was doing him a favor. Levi, no, Hange too - both of them - will later thank her for this. She was doing a right thing.

Nifa repeated these words a couple of times and then rushed over to the break room, where she knew she would most surely find Moblit. Her best friend would be thrilled to hear about her success.

*** He wasn't brooding, he told himself as he threw another disgustingly sweet candy in his mouth.

He wasn't sulking, Levi thought, as he put the glass of wine to his lips. It was awful. He had been drinking this brand of wine for years, but he never noticed how mawkish it was. Hange’s taste in wine was as horrible as her taste in romantic partners.

He didn't care about Hange and her stupid date, Levi tried to convince himself, paying only half of his attention to the movie.

On his TV screen Harry ran away from Sally after their first night together, and Levi scoffed at his stupidity. It was obvious they're in love with each other, why couldn’t they just admit it? They were both idiots and this movie was stupid, Levi decided. Why Hange liked it so much was beyond him.

***

Harry and Sally started arguing at the wedding, when Levi's phone started ringing. He made no move to get up and pick it. It couldn't be Hange calling, because she was on a date. And if that was Erwin, informing him of some emergency at work, he could kindly go and fuck himself. It was Levi's day-off and he was allowed to be as miserable as he wanted in the coziness of his apartment.

After a few seconds his phone fell silent, but before Levi could sigh with relief and continue watching the movie, he heard a few pings that announced that he had received a couple of messages. Erwin wasn't one for texting, and that got Levi wondering who was trying to get into contact with him.

Was it Petra, inviting him to a bar with others from their office?

Or, maybe, that was Yeager or any of his friends, wishing him a happy holiday?

Either way, Levi decided to ignore the messages too. If it was Petra, she'd understand his desire to be left alone. And if the messages were from any of their interns, then Levi most certainly didn't want to deal with that. It was bad enough they'd given him chocolate at work. It made him feel like he was a high school teacher, not a partner of the law firm.

He shouldn’t support this kind of behavior, Levi decided and returned his attention to the movie.

*** Levi was halfway through a bottle of wine and Harry was ready to confess to Sally.

Fucking finally, he thought, pouring himself more wine. What kind of idiots waste twelve years denying the feelings they have for each other? Just when Harry was going to say those three little words, someone knocked on Levi's front door. With glass of wine still lifted to his lips, Levi paused the movie and stared at the door, wondering who could be fearless enough to visit him at ten pm.

As he continued to sit and ponder on it, the initially soft knocks turned into vicious bangs.

Cursing at the impatient idiot, Levi put the glass down and got to his feet, marching to the door with a glare on his face.

He threw the door open and— froze, blinking in surprise.

Hange stood on a threshold, holding a bottle of wine in her hands and wearing a wide grin on her lips.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

Levi bit his cheek to keep himself from blurting out 'yes'.

"What happened to your other one?" he asked instead, putting on a mask of cold indifference.

"Ah," she ruffled her hair. "He was actually boring as hell. Not even half as cute as Nifa," she shrugged. "I guess she's the sole owner of all adorable genes in their family."

Levi scoffed, plucking his lips. He would not give Hange the satisfaction of laughing at her lame joke. "Your date turned out to be a moron, so what? You've decided to come and bother me?"

"Yeah? Would you let me in or not?"

Levi knew he could put up a fight. He could tell Hange how annoying and inconsiderate she was. But he also knew that it would result in absolutely nothing. Hange would still get what she wants. He would still let her get what she wants. Because in all the years of their friendship he hadn't learned how to say no to her.

So with an irritated tsk and a shake of his head, Levi took a step back, allowing Hange to come inside.

"Did you bring something, except wine?" he asked while Hange was busy taking off her shoes.

"Yes!" Hange passed him her handbag.

Levi opened, finding chocolate inside. Lots of chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

"Four-eyes. Did you rob the candy shop?" he inquired dryly.

"No!" Hange snickered. "These are gifts."

Levi had received chocolate too. His collection wasn't quite as vast as Hange's, though.

"Are all of these from brats?"

"Some are from my team. Where's your chocolate, by the way? If I received so many, I can't even imagine how much you got."

"It seems like this year you're more popular than me," Levi pointed at only a couple of box of chocolates on his coffee table.

Hange's face fell after his words. She even opened her mouth, probably with the intent to apologize or, god forbid, comfort him. Levi scowled, silently telling Hange the misplaced pity to herself. He didn't really care about such trivial matters.

And he was more than happy to find out how well-loved Hange was. She deserved nothing less than that after all.

"Don't just stand there," he snapped, when Hange continued to stare at him without saying anything or even moving.

Hange lifted the corners of her lips and hurried after Levi to the living room.

"Oh!" as soon as she saw what was on the TV screen, she clasped her hands in delight. "When Harry Meets Sally! I love this movie!"

I know, Levi almost said.

"And it's one of my favorite scenes!" Hange continued to gash. She plopped down on Levi's sofa with a wide grin.

However, as she took a closer look on a coffee table, her excitement diminished considerably.

"Two glasses?" she mumbled, frowning in confusion. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, it's just..."

A habit, Levi realized. He put two glasses simply out of habit. He was so used to drinking with Hange that he had taken two glasses without even thinking.

"It's nothing," he finished awkwardly. "Let's watch the movie."

Hange stared him for a second, her eyes wary. But then she snapped out of it and a smile returned to her lips. She waited until Levi took his place on a sofa and then put her head on his thigh.

"Must you always do it?" Levi complained without making a single move to change their position. "I'm not a piece of furniture, you know."

"Just put on a movie, Levi," Hange mumbled, too used to his constant bitching to have any kind of reaction to it.

"So bossy," he huffed, but took the remote in his hands and resumed the movie.

On a screen, Harry was confessing to Sally.

"It's kinda bizarre, don't you think?" Hange asked. "They knew each other for so long and yet they've realized their true feelings only years after."

"It's a movie, Hange."

"So you think it's unrealistic?" she lifted her head to stare at him. "That two people can be close friends for years and continue to be blind, refusing to see how much they need each other?"

"I think you have to be unbelievably dense to not realize that you're in love with your best friend."

Hange giggled, and the quiet sound was like music to Levi's ears. "Yeah, maybe, you're right. They're really dense."

"Idiots," Levi agreed, laying a hand on her shoulder and pulling her closer.

#it's too short but it's been a hell of a busy week for me so sorry about that :)#hope you still enjoy it!#also if anyone gets the reference about cousin greg i'll kiss you on the lips <3 #valentinesdaywithhange #levihan #levihan fanfiction

199 notes · View notes