#like it’s dumb as shit and i’m not going to entertain the idea why waste my time on something like that? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He��s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

1K notes · View notes

cayofdreams · 4 years ago

Text

Establishing the Monocracy

~(Brat!Reader x Bakugou)~

Words: 3.4k

Rating: 🌊 18+, Smut

Warnings/Tags: cunnilingus, teasing, slight degradation

Notes: I was writing this req and just got inspired cuz Bakugou. Ended up being somewhat a preface to my Down with the Monocracy (which ofc is not a req reading to enjoy this)

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

“Ohhh~! Yeah baby, right there!! So good!!”

The obnoxious moaning of the actress through your phone’s speakers made Bakugou quickly turn around from his desk to glare bullets into you. You were sitting on his bed, looking nonchalantly at the events transpiring on the screen.

The two of you were supposed to go out later to hangout with friends so you stopped by his place to kill time. Two hours of time. A normal occurrence for you considering you liked to annoy your friend-and-rival whenever you could, and admittedly his surprisingly cozy room was comfortable to just laze around in. Usually you’d read manga while he did whatever but Mina had sent you a rather vulgar clip with the caption ‘how i hope my night ends 😝😝!!’.

“Oi! What the fuck are you looking at in my room?! Turn that shit off!” More than the fact that you were boldly watching porn in his vicinity, he was more perplexed at how you were still playing the video after he called you out. “Why the fuck are you watching that?!”

“I just don’t get it.” Scratching your head, you continued to look quizzingly at the actress’ performance. “I mean, people actually find this stuff arousing?”

“Are you just gonna ignore my question?!”

“Oh my goodness, calm down. Mina sent me a video. She’s acting like its the hottest thing ever but it isn’t entertaining at all.” You rolled your eyes before concentrating once more on your phone’s screen.

Finding it useless to ask if it was normal for friends to send porn to each other he instead questioned just what you were looking at to elicit such a response from you.

“What? You used to some kind of extravagant sex or some shit?”

“No. Rather what’s happening here is extravagant. Literally no one does this in real life. It’s so unrealistic.”

A million questions ran through Bakugou’s head at this moment. Why were you watching porn in his room? What the fuck kind of porn is so bizarre that a deviant like you is confused? And Jesus were to trying to start something right now? Was he literally in a shitty porn introduction and didn’t know it?

“Fuck~!! Hyahhh!! I’m gonna cummm~~!!!”

The sounds of the video continued to penetrate through Bakugou’s room. Mentally he was annoyed at the fact that he just wanted to get ahead on some paperwork before going out and your idiocy was preventing that, but physically the boner that was rising in his pants was only more and more intrigued. The woman he’d been undressing with his eyes for longest of times was now in his room, laying on his bed, watching porn.

“I mean seriously, only an idiot could think guys do this.”

“What the hell crazy shit are you looking at??”

“That thing that’s in like every porn. Where the guy is like licking her down there. Cunnilingus, if you will.”

Bakugou raised his eyebrow at you. “You mean eating pussy?”

“Oh my god…you’re so vulgar.” Rolling your eyes, you turned on your side, back faced towards Bakugou.

“You’re the fucking one in my room watching-“ As he glanced at your figure, he wondered just what the fuck you were getting at. Were you weirdly trying to seduce him? By playing porn and then pretending as if you were inexperienced in oral sex just for his sexual interest in you to pique? Were you trying to sexually outsmart him? Bakugou chuckled as he got up and walked towards you. “You think you’re so fucking sneaky, huh?”

You felt the increasing weight on the bed as Bakugou pressed his knee into the mattress to close his torso in on you. “What?” Quirking your eyebrow and turning towards him, you pondered his sudden shift in demeanor.

“Don’t fucking play dumb. I know what you’re doing.” Bakugou gripped his fingers around the collar of your shirt, forcing you to directly face him. “Since you pissed me off, I’m not doing shit with you even if you asked nicely.” He let go of you to walk back toward his desk, slumping himself in the chair. “Pretending like guys aren’t lining up to worship your pussy with their tongue just to get me to pity you. Pathetic.”

You paused as you analyzed his mood. Clearly he was upset at you, but you didn’t have the slightest idea why. “I agree that I should be worshipped but I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and shot a glare at you. “There’s no fucking way you’re gonna sit here and tell me some loser hasn’t been down on you. Didn’t you just get out of a relationship?”

“Mmm…yeah.”

“And you fucked, yeah?”

“We had sexual relations, yes.”

“And he never went down on you?”

“No. He said it wasn’t necessary.”

“W-What?”

“Well, he said since I’m quote-on-quote, horny all the time, it wasn’t necessary.”

Bakugou knew you were a trickster of sorts, but the way you just nonchalantly talked about your bitch of a boyfriend like it was normal told him you weren’t lying. Did someone like you, the prissiest, most self-absorbed chick in the universe really date someone who wouldn’t go down on you. Fuck, did you miss out.

Or rather, the bastard missed out.

Some snobbish prick didn’t hop on the chance to make you squirm under them? The one chance they’d probably have in asserting their rightful dominance over you, and they were too fucking stupid to not take it? It’d be a lie to say that when Bakugou saw those soft plushy thighs of yours peeking out from under your tight skirts he didn’t fantasize about the dripping mess he could create underneath.

Hell, you practically put your pussy on display whenever you wore those so-called ‘athletic’ shorts that helped you move faster as you’d claim. Bullshit. As if you weren’t tempting every loser in your vicinity with those faint imprints of your pussy lips through those shorts. Fuck, if he had known the whole time you were dating that piece of shit that he wasn’t going down on you, he would’ve fucking shown you what you were missing out on.

Well he wasn’t going to make the same shitty mistake as your boyfriend.

With a small curl of his lips, he cocked an eyebrow towards you. “You wanna find out what you missed out on?”

“Huh?”

“What your shitty ex was too stupid to not do, you want me to do it?”

After taking a moment to process Bakugou’s advances, you erupted into laughter. “No way!”

“Why the fuck are you laughing?!” Here he was, practically stripping his ego away for you, and you were just going to laugh in his face? Refusing his incredibly generous offer? Nevermind the sadistic value he’d receive from having you completely fall apart under him, it was still you who’d reap most the benefits.

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, trying to stifle your snickers. “Okay, and I suppose you’re going to make me scream obnoxiously like the girl in that video, are you?” You face turned from amused to stern. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve already had sex and its nothing like what’s portrayed in that silly pornography. I’m sure it’s the same for- what do you call it? ‘Going down’? So, don’t even waste my time, Bakugou.”

Bakugou chuckled at your ignorance. Not only had you not had the pleasure of your pussy being smothered by some bastard’s tongue, but he wasn’t even fucking you properly? You poor thing. Honestly, he was a little offended you were only just now relaying this information onto him.

While you were trying to go back to whatever random things you were doing on your phone before Mina interrupted you, Bakugou strode back over to his bed, this time climbing on top of it, maneuvering your thighs so that he’d be seated between them.

“Oh no, did I awaken the challenger part of you? I’ve said what I said now get off.” You tried to kick you foot at him but he caught your ankle in his grip.

“Going against your weak excuse of a boyfriend is hardly a challenge, princess.”

“Oh ho-ho, so getting me to actually feel pleasure from what-ever you’re about to do is the challenge?”

“That’s not a challenge either.”

Sucking your teeth, you hastily took off your skirt and spread your thighs for him. “Fine. You have one chance, Ba-KA-gou.”

“Tch. Just do me favor and-“ Bakugou placed your hands around your knees and further spread your thighs apart. “keep ‘em fuckin’ spread.”

Rolling your eyes, you silently complied. You weren’t shy in the least about your body but the way Bakugou was intently zeroing in on the clothed folds of your pussy made your breath a bit shaky.

Just when you were about to say something about his odd silence you felt the soft peck of his lips on your thigh. That peck was slowly followed by another, this time slightly closer to your center. As you tried to ease your breathing each peck made you more wet than the previous. By the time Bakugou was at the lining of your panties, you were practically pooling through the fabric. Smirking at your trembling he looked up at you.

“Shy?”

“N-No! You’re just incredibly slow. I bet you’re just h-hesitating because you don’t know how to- Owwch!” Bakugou had sunk his teeth into the softness of your thighs. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make you kick your heel into his back in retaliation. “What was that for?! You brute!”

“You’re getting on me about going slow but you’ve been the one wasting everyone’s time, Y/N.” He stroked the tip of his index finger along the slit of your panties, making more of your juices spill through the fabric. “Dating some shitty asshole when you could’ve been wetting this glorious cock the whole time.” He circled his finger around the clothed hood of your clit, reveling in the broken whimpers you couldn’t help but let out. “So now I’m gonna take allll the fucking time I want. So just lay there and try to make this a challenge for me.”

Bakugou then wrapped his lips around your pussy, soaking his saliva through your panties. He wasn’t even directly touching you but the rampant motions of his hot tongue through the now drenched cloth made your hips squirm underneath him. He went back and forth from licking to sucking you over your panties, pausing when you quivered too much or moaned too loud. He didn’t want to accidentally make you cum before his main act.

Unconsciously, you had let go of your knees to glide your fingers through his spikey locks, slightly pulling him forward as if he’d be able to ghost his tongue through your panties. He looked back up at you, pleased with your erotically joyous face.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands there? You’re distracting me.”

Letting out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a whine, you re-placed your hands around your knees.

“So surprisingly obedient.” Bakugou slipped his finger around the crotch of your panties, gliding his knuckle around your swelled clit. “Probably because you’re just desperate to have your pussy played with. What a slut.” He increased the pressure of his knuckle around your clit and the feeling of it made you lean your head back against Bakugou’s pillows. “How about you tell me what you want, princess?”

Regulating your breathing enough to form a sentence you rose your head again to meet his vermillion eyes. “G-Go down on me. Prick.”

“Go? Huh? Where? In a car? Fucking clarify.”

You clicked your tongue and turned your head, annoyed at his feigning. Seeing as how you’d require a little encouragement, Bakugou pressed a kiss against clothed pussy, rubbing the tip of his nose where your clit would lie directly underneath. “C’mon. You’re college educated, right? Use your fucking vocabulary.”

You slowly turned your head towards him, the twitching agitation of your eyebrows only fueling him more. “Will you perform cunnil-“

“Finish that sentence and I’m leaving.”

Not wanting to test him on that threat, you reluctantly parted your lips. “…Eat my…” Bakugou licked stripe along your completely soaked panties, stopping to wiggle the tip his tongue against where your clit would be. “Mmnnn~…my pussy...”

“What? Can you fucking speak up? You can present shit in front of a whole audience but now you’re being as quiet as a damn mouse.”

“F-fuck…Bakugou. Damn you.” Your eyes became watery at the mix of humiliation and pressing desire to be touched directly. Were you really going to soil your ego for this bag of cockiness? Surely it wasn’t worth it. Is what your mind would probably say. But right now, your pussy wore the crown. And the queen was craving attention. “I want you to- to e-eat my pussy.”

Bakugou placed another bite on your inner thigh making your body jolt. “Can’t even add a damn ‘please’ to that? I’m sure your type was taught manners.”

“Pleeaassee~ Fuck! Please eat my pussy, Bakugou!”

A small burst of laughter left him as he slapped your thigh. “Well take ‘em off, princess.”

Begrudgingly taking off your panties, a shiny string of your wetness that connected you with the fabric broke as you threw them on the floor. Reassuming the previous positioning of your thighs, your now bare pussy was left open and vulnerable to your rival.

He leaned down to hover over your pussy, his nose trickling against the hood of your clit. You were already so wet for him. Your pussy was just glistening with juices that begged for tending to. Steadying his position between your thighs he glanced at you one more time. “You better not move.” He then licked a stripe up your folds, stimulating your clit in the process.

“Hyaah~!” The feeling was too much for your somewhat-inexperienced pussy and caused you to involuntarily push Bakugou back with your feet. The annoyance of being stopped was promptly displaced with satisfaction as he peered at your pitiful form.

“What did I just fuckin’ say? Open your legs again.” His voice that was rasp with frustration didn’t match his look of sadistic gratification. You were giving him just the reaction he wanted. Did you really think your meek little pussy was any match for him? He had barely touched you and this is how you’re acting? And the fact you were still hesitating on presenting that little pussy to him again only drove him more eager to ravish you.

“Dammit, Y/N. Do I have to do every fucking thing?” Bakugou pulled you up by the waist so that you were in a piledriver-like position, with your back arched and ass raised in the air, and of course your pussy now directly presented up towards him. The crook of your neck was nothing compared to his tight grip around your hips, the squish of your flesh plunging from between his fingers. You couldn’t even use your legs to fight against him as his grip was too secure. “All I’m doing for you, and you can’t even follow simple fucking directions.

“’C-Cuz it felt too-Hmmnngh~!” You were cut off by the ravaging of Bakugou’s tongue over your pussy folds. He went back and forth from slurping up your juices to flicking his tongue over and over on your clit. If you weren’t already embarrassed by the position you were in, the absolute filthy sounds Bakugou was making with his mouth were achieving that. “Hnnggh~Baku…Bakugou!” You tried flailing your legs around in the air but Bakugou quickly grasped them in his hands.

He ran his nails down the silky surface of your thighs, making for a sweetly masochistic pleasure mixed with his obscene lapping at your pussy. Continuing his gorging on your sweet pussy, he could feel you shaking from below him. He looked down below at your face, chucking into your pussy at how wretchedly delirious you looked.

“Gonna cum?” You vehemently shook your head no despite the swelling you felt within your pelvis. He slithered his hands down to glide them up your shirt, lifting up your bra above your soft breasts. “Well I’m not fucking stopping until you do. So give me something to play with until then.”

Bakugou roughly kneaded at your breasts between his fingers, squeezing them to hear your pitchy whines at the pain. The mix of his saliva and your slippery essence drooled from your pussy to pool at your tummy and breasts. He gathered a bit of the mixture and slicked his fingers in circles on your nipples. The erotic feeling of it sent a surge of pleasure straight to your pussy. “Ahahnn~ Bakugou…I-I’m gonna cumm~”

He locked eyes with you, continuing to slick his tongue around your clit. “From what?” Boosting your urgency to reply, he pinched a little harder at your nipples. “Tell me what you’re gonna cum from, princess.”

“F-From you eating my pussy~! From Katsuki eating my pussy~!!” The sounds of hearing you use his name for the first time made him pink in the cheeks and twitch in his boxers. Bakugou came up from between your hips, enticed to make you say more lewd things. You were rarely one to speak vulgarly so he’d make the best of your blissed-out state.

“Ahaha-! You sound like those silly pornos!” Not thinking your face could feel even more hot, you felt your cheeks rise with even more heat at his teasing. Bakugou took one of the hands from your breasts and palmed it against your slippery folds. “You still think every guy is like your stupid fucking ex, Y/N?” He ran his palm back and forth against your slit to keep you right on the edge of an orgasm.

“Noo~! Katsuki is so m-much better! Katsuki is sooo much better than my stupid ex~!”

He chuckled at your admittance, but of course, he couldn’t leave it there. “I’m kinda the fuckin’ best, aren’t I?”

“Hmmnn~! Yesss! ~the best! K-Katsuki is the bessst~!”

“You wanna cum on my tongue?”

“Please! Please let me-! Please let me cum on your tongue, Katsuki~!”

“You better fuckin’ listen to me and stay still, then. And don’t look away from me.”

Bakugou threw you back on the bed before lying on his stomach to place himself once more at your quivering pussy. Making sure your eyes were locked with his, he enveloped your folds within his mouth, sucking directly on your clit. He not only feasted on your pussy, but on the entranced look in your eyes. Your e/c eyes that looked at him like he was the only one that could gratify your carnal desires.

And from now on, he’d be sure he was the only one.

You gripped your fingers at the bed sheets beneath you as your orgasm rapidly creeped up on you. The intensity of Bakugou’s tongue coupled with his eye contact was sending you over the edge more fiercely than any pathetic ex or cheap sex toy ever could. “Ohhhmygodd~ Fuckkk-! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m-“

Forced to break eye contact with the unconscious jerk of your head back on the pillows, your pussy convulsed violently around Bakugou’s tongue. “Katsukiii~!” If you had to say, this was the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced. All at the hands- or tongue rather- of Bakugou Katsuki. Your ego would surely be disappointed in you choosing your pussy over it.

Bakugou slowly licked his tongue up and down your folds as you came down from your high. The corners of his lips lifted into a devious smile at your disheveled appearance. When your body finally stopped trembling, he completely separated his mouth from you and slid his body on top of yours to be face-to-face with you.

Silently, without care of you still gasping for air, he pressed his lips against yours, eventually intensifying the kiss with the slip of his tongue between your lips. Happily obliging, you glided your tongue against his as your fingers slithered up to once again fumble with his locks of hair. The taste of you on his tongue almost seemed sensual as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hand up to gently grip at your jaw, he separated his lips from yours, licking away the chain of saliva that still connected the two of you. As he sat upright to take his shirt off, he looked down at you, embellished with yearning to relieve his own build-up.

“Should I prove you wrong on fucking too before we hang out with those losers?”

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut

971 notes · View notes

scuttle-buttle · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 17

WC: 1131

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: angst, language, discussions of student/professor relationships, age difference

A/N: so I'm actually going out of town for a week and I'm not sure I'll be able to write much if at all so I figured I'll be nice and not leave yall hanging too much

🧠

A sea of petrified students part as you come raging down the academic building’s hallway. You waste no time in throwing open the heavy wooden door to his office. It hasn’t even had time to slam shut before you begin your tirade.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you seeth.

Laszlo sighs, annoyed at having his work interrupted for the second time in the last hour. The headache from his encounter with Sara made his temples throb uncomfortably. He once again removes his glasses, tossing them indelicately onto the desk, before running a hand through his neatly combed hair. “What, is it not allowed that I do my work in peace?” He does nothing to hide his exasperation as he lifts his head to face you. The dark bags under your eyes remind him of his own.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, some high and mighty hot-shot professor, but I do not need your pity money,” you spit at him. “It’s disgusting and patronizing and quite frankly fucked up. It’s bad enough that you fucking fire me over text for no goddamn reason, but then you go rub it in my face just how much I needed this job and the money. I’m not some pathetic charity case, Laszlo. I can figure out my own shit and I don’t need your help to do it!”

Midway through your rant he stood up from his desk. Now Laszlo is more confused than angry at your outburst. Charity case? “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t play dumb, it’s beneath you. You were supposed to fix the system to say that you removed me from being your TA. But no, you went and kept me on payroll on purpose so that, what, I didn’t go starving on the streets without you? You think that I’m so incapable of taking care of myself that only you, the great Dr. Laszlo Kreizler could help, and just so you could feel better about yourself?” The sarcasm drips heavily in your tone.

With the raising of your voice so did your frustration. Laszlo could feel it pushing off you in waves, stoking the fire within his own emotions. He lets out a dark chuckle at the preposterousness of your accusation. “If you think for even a moment that I have done anything out of pity for you then you truly must be beyond yourself. I have not done anything outside of what is required for my position as your supervisor and professor at this university. If you have a problem with that, you may take it to the Dean," he sneers. "As for your accusation of treating you like a charity case - that was never my intention nor purpose. I became preoccupied and did not find the time to change your status in the system.” He looks you up and down from where he stands, his eyes cold. “You have much to learn if you are going to expect people to take you seriously as an academic.”

Jabbing a finger towards him, you yell “don’t you talk down to me like I’m a child! God, you are infuriating!” You throw up your hands and begin to pace the office. Taking a breath, you try to bring some logic into your fuming thoughts. “Okay fine, let’s say I do believe that you forgot to fix it. That still doesn’t explain why you fired me out of the blue. Was I not doing my job correctly?”

“You did what was asked of you.” He does his best to sound neutral in his response.

“That doesn’t- ugh- that doesn’t answer the damn question, Laszlo! For once, why can’t you act like a human being and not like some omnipotent god that just takes pleasure in pointing out everyone else's flaws?” The fire behind your eyes blazes hotter than the surface of the sun.

Circling the desk he comes to stop a few feet from you. His shoulders are rigid as he glares down at you. “Perhaps I will the day you yourself get a hold on your own actions. You are intelligent beyond your own comprehension, yet you present yourself as a naïve child might. You speak as though your ideals are the only ones that could possibly be entertained. You are loud and confrontational and irritating-”

You cut him off; “I could say the same thing about you!” You pause a short beat. At this point you decide to rip the proverbial band aid off - “Is it because we almost kissed? Did I really fuck it up that bad or are you just unable to grow up and be a big boy with your feelings? Because you’ve been giving me all these signs and if they aren’t really there then fuck, Laszlo, you need to figure out how to actually talk to someone without making them think you have feelings. Or is it because you’re a professor and I’m your aide? Am I some stupid little girl that caught feelings for her teacher? Does the idea offend you that much that you had to get rid of me-”

“I CAN’T!” he yells mere inches from you. His shout stops you in your tracks, your eyes darting between his own pitch black pupils. Laszlo's face is flushed, his temples throb.

He sees red as he tries to defend himself from your onslaught. “I cannot be around you!” He growls, pacing away from you towards the back wall.

You don’t let him get away so easily, following him with a single measured step. “Laszlo… why not?” You are enraged and heartbroken, but you need answers no matter how much they might rip your soul to shreds.

He runs his fingers through his already mussed hair, pulling at the strands. “Because I feel my control slipping when you are around. Everyday you sit here and all I want is to be near you, to feel you against me, to know every thought that crosses that beautiful mind. I become more and more alienated from my own when I am with you. I’m not sure I have much sanity left. There are certain things a man cannot control...” You hear his swallow. “I’m afraid of what I might do if you stay…”

When you do not respond he glances over his shoulder. You stand where he had left you, your jaw clenched, eyebrows scrunched together. He continues to study you from across the room. Neither of you say anything.

Finally, you open your mouth to whisper out “I’m afraid of what might happen if I don’t.”

The words are barely past your mouth when he launches himself towards you, his left hand tilting your jaw forward to crush his lips against yours.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle

145 notes · View notes

throwmethatcello · 4 years ago

Text

My favorite moments from each member of Vox Machina.

Grog

- The whole trash talk pre-battle against Kevdak. Travis WOW.

- "Grand Poobah de Doink of all Thisanthat" and everything that came with that title.

- When he asked Pike to teach him how to read and I ugly cried + "I spend the following years learning how to read" in the epilogue and I also ugly cried.

- “The Grog and Craven Edge show”

- When he was sad because he didn't have a role in Vex and Percy's wedding and then they asked him to be the flower girl and he was.just.so.happy.and.proud.of.himself. “Can I have this job??” Groooog why are you so wholesome :'(

Vex

- "I thought he'd never leave" - No explanation needed

- "I open the door COMPLETELY NAKED" - Behold the supreme queen of powerplays, we are not worthy and we'll never be.

- When she went find Kaylie after Scanlan died and convinced her to go see him + Later when Allura told her the resurrection ritual succeeded and she was so happy but she was all alone in that tavern so she just started buying everyone drinks (and spending money????? !!!!!!) and flirting with people out of habit but then she kinda remembered she was with Percy and backed off and went to sleep, lmao what a journey.

- Her wedding vows. Laura Bailey will you please let me live.

Vax

- The time the Briarwoods caught him spying on them and he serious and genuinely attempted to fuck his way out of there and in all fairness who can blame him. Truly the bisexual representation I deserve, god bless this dumb horny boy.

- GUYS. WHERE. IS. LARKIN!!!

- “let's go, you bastard!” and kissed Percy. Thank you Liam O’Brien for my life.

- He really went straight to Percy’s bathroom and got into the tub with him just to share an awkward silence and tell him that he’s like a brother to him and then showed him his ass as he left. Vax’ildan what the actual fuck, brothers don’t do that kind of shit and you know it, why are you like this!!!

Percy

- *Masterfully parlays with an ancient green dragon and keeps his cool until the very moment she leaves the room. Proceeds to have a panic attack* Also pretty sure he kinda wanted to fuck the dragon. Anyways this scene is sexy af and I stan a badass bitch with severe trauma and valid kinks.

- When he literally inflicted damage to himself with a kettle full of fantasy menthos to win a cannonball contest.

- Wasted! Percy (ft. Keyleth and the weird marquesian drink)

- "SYLAS!!!!"

- This motherfucker, this absolute agent of madness went and signed yet another soul-binding contract with a demon under the galaxy brain reasoning that "I already sold my soul once, so if I sell it again worst case scenario I get to watch 2 demons fighting over my soul and that would be very entertaining" I'm-

Tary

- “It’s going to be FUN, FUN, FUN!”

- Flashcards class with Pike. Just. Amazing. Outstanding. Sam Riegel what you have is called TALENT.

- “...and it was the METRIC SYSTEM!”

- The time Taryon Darrington spent his first night in company of a lady and immediately decided it was going to be the last one.

- His “fuck you dad” speech was absolutely beautiful and his explanation on how Vox Machina showed him what it meant to be a family. Sam you can’t just fucking do this kind of shit to unsuspecting watchers, I’m soft.

Keyleth

- "We are basically gods!" *proceeds to jump off a cliff and die" WE LOVE A DUMBASS QUEEN.

- When she went off on Raishan, just omg Keyleth, the raw power of it all!!!

- "Hey percy you know what would be fun, if I turned into a fucking elephant and you got on top of me so we can go deliver this mask/helmet to Grog in a cool classy fashion. *turns into an elephant* Oh shoot I forgot doors exist, it sure would have been a good idea to polimorph after leaving the room, well whatever, here goes nothing *starts to fucking smash the door with her elephant body* Oh, here comes Grog and Scanlan, hey guys! Wait, why are you attacking me it's me, your good friend Keyleth! Ouch! Ok you know what now I'm pissed, let's fucking go!! If I shall go down in this form so be it. *Rages against Grog and Scanlan and gets fucking decked*

- Keyleth’s epilogue was just beautiful and the perfect way to close the campaign. Much feels. Much cry.

Pike

- *Takes a sip of the weird Markesian drink* "Haha I don't feel anything" *Takes another sip of the weird Markesian drink. Passes out automatically*

- Pike: Maybe we should sleep together and see how it goes

Scanlan: O- OKAY????

Pike: No just kidding lol sorry

- “Guiding bolt up his butt”

- "Sometimes I talk to Scanlan through the earring even though I know he can't hear me" like, Ashley stop. And then she gets drunk and starts actually talking to him like, ASHLEY STOP.

Scanlan

- "You'll leave when Burt Reynolds tells you to leave!"

- "Do you spice?" or "Scanlan spends a whole episode in a quest for drugs. Ends up getting a bag of baking soda for like 400G. Lives with the shame for the rest of his life" Perfect. Spectacular. You just can't write shit this good.

- When he apologizes to Pike for being a fuckboy.

- Every single counterspell this motherfucker has ever casted.

- Basically the whole battle against Vecna was endless epic content from Scanlan.

- You know what, every single Scanlan moment is iconic and we all know it. Let's not pretend we can just pick a few.

#critical role #campaign 1 #vox machina #spoilers #grog strongjaw #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #percival de rolo #taryon darrington #keyleth of the air ashari #pike trickfoot #scanlan shorthalt

2K notes · View notes

crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping a Secret - Part 7

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.4k

Part 6 || Part 8 || masterlist

[a/n]

I’m so sorry for the delayed update. Things are happening in my personal life that my writing has incredibly slowed down.

To that anon who was asking for updates, I’m sorry if I made it seem like you were rushing me (in case you weren’t). Sometimes, I just tend to feel so pressured that I easily project that to others.

Y’all been excited for this. Here you go, a drunk Tsukishima to make up for the slow update.

AO3 link is on the masterlist in case Tumblr crashes on you from how long this update is.

Your eyes widen at the current state of Tsukishima. You look around warily, checking if there’s any mutual classmate you know who is around. But with how dim the club is, the attempt to do so is futile.

“Tsukishima…” you protest while prying his hands away from your waist.

“We’re in public!” You hiss at his behavior, but he’s completely unfazed. His hands keep creeping back at the spot they were rooted at.

His facial expression doesn’t falter either. He’s still wearing that silly grin that looks nothing like his usual ones. “So? Didn’t you hug me publicly, right in the middle of the Sendai Gym?” he counters with a cocked brow as his elated grin turns to a clever smirk.

Oh God. What has Tsukishima turned into? He’s like one of those guys who hit on you, but the difference is you’re actually flustered by it.

Even with his hands and gaze glued to you, you turn to the bartender. “How long has he been here?” you shout. “A while now,” the bartender shouts back.

You glance at Tsukki’s consumed glasses again. It’s only one glass and two shot glasses. How can he be this drunk already?

You don’t wonder too long before figuring it out. Tsukishima’s definitely a lightweight, shown by his level of intoxication at the moment even though in reality, he hasn’t had much to drink.

Why did he even drink in the first place? He said he doesn’t see the point of parties. Why is he here getting himself hammered? You grimace when you realize that there’s training tomorrow. You’ve scolded members before for such behavior and now they know better than to get wasted when there’s practice the next day.

You did not expect such irresponsibility from Tsukishima, who’s always exhibited exemplary behavior.

“You should go home.” You mean to sound strict, but with his body being a bit too close, your voice falters.

He cups the back of your head and pulls you so that his lips are ghosting against your ear.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he says haughtily.

It’s a very familiar scenario with a very different Tsukishima holding you in place. If he’s his usual self (sober and pissed off at you), you’d be teasing him for coming to this club. Instead, you’re the flustered one as his fingers brush your nape while his breath fans your ear.

“G-go home, Tsukki,” you stutter as you feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“But why?” His hand on your nape travels down on your spine. “Didn’t you say I was welcome to go here?” The ends of your hair prickle up as he presses the warmth of his lips on your cheek when he pulls away slightly.

It was almost the same scenario when you first saw him in this very same club - the whispering, the closeness, the incredible urge to feel his mouth on yours. The difference is Tsukishima himself. Unlike before when you two were fighting the pull of the temptation, this time, it’s worse because of his suggestive demeanor.

“Stop it,” you chastise him with a little bit more conviction.

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” He withdraws until his lips are only an inch away from yours.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself before pushing yourself away from him. “Go home, Tsukishima. You have training tomorrow!” you shout to make sure he hears you without leaning close to him.

He looks at you like he doesn’t understand shit. His tipsy grin is now wiped off, replaced with an empty, clueless Tsukishima staring at you. You don’t falter though. You continue glaring at him. Luckily, it seems to sink in his head after a few seconds as he finally stands up.

At the first step he takes, he staggers like a high school student who got drunk for the first time. You start to feel bad for him because he looks like he really is struggling with it while continuing to fiddle with his glass as if that’s the cause of his apparent dizziness.

You position yourself underneath his arm and help him balance himself.

You groan as you wobble when he rests some of his weight to you. How can you momentarily forget that he’s a professional athlete weighing more than 160 lbs? You’re always surrounded by tall men, and this has made you think that that height is normal, when in reality they can crush you in a snap.

You realize that Tsukishima is a lot more busted than you thought. You can see he’s actually trying to walk normally but is failing miserably.

You’ve already talked to most of your friends so you don’t mind helping him get back home. Not that it matters. You’d still be helping him get back home even if you hadn’t. Aside from being one of your players, he’s also your study partner. You can’t just leave him be.

With a very drunk Tsukishima on one shoulder, you hail a taxi and carefully make him sit inside. Your initial plan is just getting him a ride home, but looking at him now, you’re not sure if that’s the best idea. He might suddenly pass out. Who knows what will happen to him then?

You sigh as you get yourself inside the cab as well.

You give the driver the address of the Tsukishima’s while he rests his head on top of yours. “This car is moving too much,” he complains with discomfort crisp in his voice. The vehicle is rather stable. It’s the alcohol in his head that’s making things shaky for him.

Instead of letting him lean on you, you carefully settle his head against the headrest of the car seat so he’s leaning back instead of sideways. You kneel instead of sitting so you can use your hands to keep his head steady because he’s too darn tall.

After a short while, he lets out a sigh of relief from the stability your hands provided. His features are more relaxed now that his brows are no longer scrunched up and his lips no longer pressed in a strained manner.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head a bit to look at you. He grasps one of your wrists as he gives you a faint smile that doesn’t resemble anything he’s given you, not even the dumb one he did at the club.

It’s a tender and genuine smile that softens up his usually stern face. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yes, you’re well aware. You hear it all the time that the word lost any shred of novelty it once had.

But when Tsukishima says it, your heart skips a beat. He isn’t flirting with you. He’s looking at you like he’s stating an observation he finds pleasing to him, like you’re a sight he’s truly enjoying to see.

You almost let go of his face from the uncanny feeling on your chest that’s making you uneasy, but you halt yourself when you remember that this guy’s world will spin faster than Jupiter’s rotation if you let him be.

You let out a deep sigh to calm yourself down.

“I know,” you respond firmly to hide the fuzzy mess that you are on the inside.

“If I’m not so fucking plastered, I’d kiss you.”

You suck in a sharp breath upon hearing it, the yearning to do so creeping up fast behind you.

You can do it yourself. You’re not dizzy. It’d be so easy. His face is already in your grasp anyways. You just have to lean forward a bit and you can easily grant him what both of you want.

Should you?

It’d just be one of your harmless kisses, right? You’ve done it countless times before. One more shouldn’t hurt.

“We’re here.”

You’re harshly brought back to sanity by the driver’s cue that you’ve reached his home. You’re thankful for it because you were really about to kiss him even though you’re the one who said that the deal is no more. You would have slapped yourself if your hands aren’t full.

You pay the driver and help Tsukishima get out of the car.

You get under his one arm again and assist his steps so he doesn’t stumble. Once you reach their doorstep, he gets his keys from his pockets but scuffles trying to insert it in the keyhole. Instead of getting pissed, he laughs sardonically and faces you.

“Look, y/n. The key is fucking stupid,” he says, completely believing that it’s the key’s fault and is actually snickering at the inanimate piece of metal’s ‘incapability’ to shoot itself where it needs to be.

You can’t help but laugh. Even at his drunken state, he still roasts things he deems doltish. It’s funnier cause he talks a bit dopey while insulting the innocent key. He’s still failing after a while so you volunteer to do it.

“I can do it,” he says seriously and on his next attempt, he does get it in. Then he looks at you and smirks proudly. “See?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at how absurd he’s acting, but the grin on your face remains. He is still very much himself. It’s just that his rudeness is comically misplaced. Yet as entertaining as it is to watch, you can feel the strain in your shoulders and upper back already.

You open the door and hope that a relative is somehow still awake to take Tsukki off your hands. Still no luck for you as you’re greeted with nothing but silence.

“Where’s your room?” “Upstairs, left.”

Great. Can this get even worse? Your original plan is just getting him a cab. Now you have to personally walk him to his room since he’s hopeless treading on a flat surface. What more on a flight of stairs?

You ask him to close the door and lock it before you head up. “Alright, Tsukki. Let’s get you in bed,” you tell yourself as a motivational push to get the task done.

You huff every step you take because he really is too heavy for you and you’ve had a long night already. You’ll be sure to reprimand him tomorrow for this.

“Y/n?”

You lift your head up from wooden steps and see Akiteru at the top end of the stairs.

“Aki-san!” You can’t be more thankful upon his arrival.

He urgently goes to you, stopping a few steps up from you and Tsukki.

“What happened to him?” Akiteru asks concernedly.

“He’s…” you try to think of a more decent word but you can’t think of any at the moment so you tell it as it is. “He’s drunk,” you admit.

Akiteru’s expression is even more incredulous than yours was back in the bar. He’s looking at you and Tsukki interchangeably.

“You... you got him to drink?”

You don’t know if you’re offended or amused because Akiteru looks like he’s extremely grateful that you caused this to his brother.

“I-uh... no. I found him like this in the club. I think you should take him already,” you suggest. You’re about to lift Tsukki’s arm off of you when you feel him resist. When you turn to him, he’s already looking at you with displeasure. “You said you would get me in bed,” he states.

Is he fucking serious? Hell no. You have no reason to do so when Akiteru is here already. “Aki-san, please,” you implore while glaring at Tsukki.

“Umm... you heard him, y/n.”

You harshly turn your head at Akiteru from disbelief. When your gaze lands on him, he’s sporting an innocent smile, a stark contrast to knowing that the intention behind it is not so innocent.

“Aki-san?” your voice rises a bit from bewilderment at what he’s insinuating.

“Why do you call Nii-chan by his name?” Tsukki slurs as he asks.

“Huh?” You eye Tsukki exasperatedly. You have yet to absorb what Akiteru is implying and Tsukki is already adding up to the initial question mark hanging on your head.

“You just met him and you already call him Aki-san. We’ve been working together for three years, yet you don’t call me Kei. Not even when we ki-”

You cover his mouth and laugh awkwardly and loudly. “Tsukki! What are you talking about?” You make yourself sound clueless as you give him a very subtle glare while smiling, hoping that he gets your warning.

“When you what?” Akiteru prods, his eyes still friendly, but with amusement lurking beneath them.

You form a smile but with Tsukki’s weight and his intoxicatedness that’s causing him to babble nonsense, it comes out distressed.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” you persist. “I should really go now. It’s really late, Aki-san. Please,” you press on.

“You can stay,” Tsukki suggests with a faint smirk.

“I agree with Kei. It really is late. We’d be responsible if something happens to you,” he explains kindly, but you know his concern is only second place to what he’s actually thinking. You can tell he’s rooting for you and his younger brother.

“Yeah, I don’t want to be responsible for you,” Tsukki announces with his voice a bit garbled.

Akiteru laughs at Tsukki’s remark but thwarts it immediately as he eyes you apologetically. “Sorry about my brother,” he whispers with one hand covering his mouth.

“Just sleep with me in my room.”

Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, it does. Your mouth gapes at Tsukki from how he just uttered that inappropriate statement right in front of his older brother.

You turn to Akiteru defensively. “It’s not what you think.”

Akiteru’s courteous smile doesn’t faze as he says, “I’m not thinking anything, y.n.”

The whole situation makes you want to let go of Tsukki’s arm and jump off the railings of stairs. Then, you’ll wake up in the morning and find that you’ve escaped this entire scenario altogether.

You sigh and wave an imaginary white flag in your head. “I’ll make sure he’s fine,” you say to Akiteru.

You see his eyes light up. Since you and Tsukki are already occupying the narrowness of the stairs, Akiteru can’t go to Tsukki’s other arm to help you. Instead, he goes back up and opens a door on the left.

He keeps it open until you reach what you surmise is Tsukki’s room.

Once you get inside, you hear Akiteru speak, “Thanks for taking care of my brother, y.n.” He closes the door before you can say anything.

Rather than minding Akiteru, you pour your attention on Tsukki, getting him to sit down with his head leaning against a wall.

You feel the instant relief on your shoulders with Tsukki’s weight off them. However, you can’t ease up yet. You have to go to their kitchen and get this guy some water.

You’ll complain later or tomorrow, but for now, you’re going to focus on getting shit done.

You’re about to head out of his room when the door opens itself, causing you to yelp from shock.

“Sorry,” Akiteru apologizes with a hushed voice. In his hand is a huge bottle of water which he extends to you with congenial fondness.

“Goodnight,” he says prior to closing the door.

Akiteru is pleasant, but he can’t be more obvious on how he eminently pairs you up with his brother.

You don’t delve into it further as you need to get Tsukki all fixed up. You walk over to where you seated him and make him drink the water Akiteru gave.

You need to make sure he’s not totally hammered when he sleeps. You don’t want him with a hangover tomorrow and skip training when the next match is just a week away.

He seems in need of the liquid too since he quickly finishes the bottle as soon as he takes it. He clumsily slams the empty bottle on his desk and stands up precariously.

“Woah there. Where are you going?” you ask imperiously.

“Bathroom,” he answers. He tips his head towards you as a corner of his lip shoots up. “Why? Care to join me?”

You want to fight back with a sarcastic ‘No, thank you,’ but he still walks a bit funny so you can’t exactly let him be. You sigh as you take his arm again and aid him as he walks.

“Only until the door,” you patiently answer.

As much as you want to be a smartass like him, you need the Frog’s starting middle blocker to never miss a training. You can’t have him tripping, falling flat on his face, or accidentally bumping on a wall.

You let him inside the restroom. Luckily, they have one on this floor so bless your shoulders and upper back. When he comes out, he looks a little less disoriented and his sense of balance is somehow stable with how he’s standing.

You follow him as he goes back to his room. To your shock, he immediately crawls to bed without changing. ‘Disgusting,’ you comment mentally. He came from outside, a club specifically. How could he not bother changing?

“Aren’t you going to change clothes?” you ask, your grossed out tone clearly heard.

“I’m tired and I’m still slightly dizzy,” he says nonchalantly.

He begins settling down while you’re standing there, tired and dumbfounded. “Where am I supposed to sleep?” He glances around his room, probably trying to recall where he put an extra mattress. Only two seconds later, he gives his bed one firm tap as if to tell you that you’re sleeping beside him.

You close your eyes from exhaustion and exasperation combined. You don’t want to sleep next to Tsukishima but it has been one hell of an evening already that you’ll take what you can get. He’s already sobered up a bit anyway. You’re at ease that he’ll keep his hands to himself.

You walk to his drawers and find a pair of loose clothing he can comfortably sleep in. Then you stride to his bed and give it to him. He looks at the clothes you’re holding then at you.

On a regular day, he wouldn’t dare sit on his bed without changing after spending time outside.. Tonight is the only exception because he truly isn’t up to the task anymore. He’ll just change his sheets tomorrow.

He only wants to lie in bed and shut his eyes already. But with you handing him a change of clothes, he has no reason to not to do so anymore.

No reason but to get back at you for giving him hell when you got yourself sick and passed out with only him present to take care of you.

“I told you I’m dizzy,” he says without accepting the clothes you’re offering him.

“Don’t tell me I have to change your clothes myself.” He can hear you’re about to lose it and it’s spurring him on even more. He hides his smirk and shrugs indifferently, leaving it to you to decide that for yourself.

You palm your face furiously and it’s almost breaking his resolve to keep a steady face. You prove to have a sensible amount of control on your temper as you recover after one excruciating deep breath. He’s not exactly surprised though. You’ve been a manager for three years now and handling male athletes is not exactly a walk in the park if one has temper problems.

You put one knee on his bed as you start tugging his shirt up. “Why did you even drink?”

“Why do you care?” He answers the same way you did when he asked why you bother going to parties.

“Because I’m the one taking care of you!” you almost yell as you dress him in a new shirt. When you successfully change his shirt, you glance at his pants then to his eyes. You didn’t have to utter a word to let him know that you don’t plan to change that particular piece of clothing.

He doesn’t falter though. If he tasted hell because he had to undress your top while you were passed out, he couldn’t miss the chance to return the favor.

“So? You didn’t hear shit from me when I had to take care of your sick ass,” he says, pouring salt to the right burn so he can push you to go along with his scheme.

You clench your jaw as you avert your eyes from his.

“You were a real handful, you know that?” he continues on. “Come to think of it. You’ve heard not a single complaint from me about that night. Should I lecture you now?” His lips betray his apathetic facade when a smirk forms on his face.

You smile at him with utter displeasure but don’t say anything as you start unzipping his pants, your spiteful eyes never leaving his amused ones.

“I’d love it if you help by lifting your sarcastic butt,” you sound distressed as you try to pull down his pants.

He grips both your hands that are tugging on his waistband. He props himself up a bit, leaning down and closing in on your stunned yet still delightful face.

“Why do you look so surprised? You asked me to help you, right?” he asks with a subdued voice as he tugs his pants down.

You turn your face away from his and don't answer his question as you continue what he started. His eyes never trail off your features until you successfully take his pants off

With your face still turned away from his, you grab the shorts you took earlier and toss it to his face. “Seems like you’re not dizzy anymore,” you say as you head to his closet.

For no fucking reason, he’s laughing elatedly. He might not be dizzy anymore but he can still feel the aftermath of the drinks he rushed drinking at the club. Is this why people get drunk? Because even the most trivial things are funny?

No. It’s because he’s drunk. It’s because of how entertaining you look when you’re a flustered mess. Before you looked away, he caught the wild blush on your cheeks, the stir in your eyes, and the way your hands trembled as you undressed him.

Initially, he wanted you to put on the shorts you got for him as well. But he figures he can show you mercy and do this one on his own since he already had his fun seeing you in a flustered state.

You open his closet and pick your own set of fresh clothes to borrow. Without saying anything, you step out of his room and head towards their restroom.

The first thing you do inside is check your reflection and goddamn it--you’re blushing like a teenager about to lose her virginity.

You groan frustratedly as you softly slap your cheek with your free hand. Tsukishima is tipsy and is just messing with you. Why do you have to be so affected?

You turn the faucet on and hurriedly wash the heat off your face. When you feel like you’ve cooled off, you look up at the mirror to check if you’re no longer a bursting tomato.

You sigh with relief when you see that your face is back to normal. You turn off the faucet and begin changing to Tsukki’s clothes.

As expected, everything is loose. His shirt is almost a dress. Actually, it already is with how it’s draping just above your knees. You had to use your hair tie to knot a portion of his shorts’ waistband for it to not to drop on your ankles.

It’ll be uncomfortable sleeping with lumped fabric on your hips but you’d prefer that than not wearing anything underneath his shirt.

You neatly fold your clothes and go back to his room. Another wave of relief hits you when you see him lying down with his eyes closed already. His glasses are already off too. Despite the strenuous and outrageous turn of events earlier tonight, you’re actually glad that he’s safe and sleeping soundly.

Hopefully tomorrow, he’s going to be fine and forget the shit he pulled on you tonight.

You take a deep breath as you sit on his bed. Fortunately, his bed is wide enough for you to have some decent amount of space away from him. He also has another pillow so you can sleep comfortably with one of your own. You just pray that it won’t be so cold because there is only one blanket.

Oh well. You’ll cross the bridge when you get there.

You get his extra pillow and lie down. Once your back hits the soft mattress, your eyes shut close on their own. You feel the weight in your legs and back settle as your body starts to relax. You know that any moment now, you’ll fall asleep so you turn to your side with your back facing Tsukishima.

You were right. You already feel your consciousness drifting off not long after, only to be disrupted by an arm sliding over your waist.

“What the-”

“My head hurts.”

Even if Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, you already know how close he is with warm breath fanning your nape. You’d scoot away but you’re already at the edge of his bed.

You harshly remove his arm and face him to give him a not so peaceful piece of your mind. You toss around to face him and when you do, you forget your annoyance as you’re met with a very distressed Tsukishima. His eyes are closed and his brows are furrowed together in almost a straight line.

“How bad is it?” You ask as you gently brush his hair away from his forehead.

“Like someone’s driving a fucking nail on my head,” he spats out with the crease on his brows getting deeper.

You gently slide one hand under his head and so you can massage his temples with both thumbs, hopefully it’ll soothe him even just a bit.

Thankfully, the crease on his brows and the tension around his nose and mouth eases up. “Where are your painkillers?” I ask softly. “I’ll go get one for you.”

He opens his eyes, a certain tenderness dancing in his orbs while he stares right onto yours. “Just stay here,” he utters delicately as he gradually slides his arm back to your waist. With a firm but still gentle grip on the small of your back, he draws you closer to him until there’s almost no space between your bodies.

This is different, way too different than he was earlier. And to be honest, you’d prefer that over this. This… it’s something even you cannot name.

Your thumbs stop moving on their own accord as he inches his face closer. You almost gasp for air with how heavy and thick it suddenly feels.

“Uh..,” you trail off without even saying anything. You just thought if you said something, it would break the tension. However, it only made it worse.

“Hmm?”

You seem to be the only one uncomfortable as he’s still gazing intently at you like it’s nothing.

“W-Why are you staring at me like that?” What the hell did you stutter for? This is just Tsukishima, goddamnit.

“It hurts less when I do.” You’d think he’s joking but there’s no trace of derision anywhere on his face. He removes his hand from your waist only to rest it on your neck, his thumb grazing your jaw as he says, “I don’t like that I can’t see you clearly right now.”

It’s too much.

Your chest feels like it’s about to explode from how fast your heart is pounding. You want to retract your hands away from him, but you can’t move them because having them there makes him feel better.

Then he looks down on your lips, a knowing look that you’re very much familiar with.

“Tsukki, we can’t do this,” you whisper, causing his eyes to go back on yours.

“What are we doing anyway?” he asks as if he’s not aware of what he’s stirring in you.

“You know what,” you insist. There’s no way he doesn’t.

“I don’t. Maybe if we actually do something, I’ll know what you’re talking about.”

You squint at him with disbelief, not buying the innocent act of him not grasping the situation when he’s the one causing it. “We already broke that deal, Tsukki.”

“Then let’s bring it back,” he counters right off the bat.

You sigh while shaking your head disagreeably. “You’re drunk,” you state plainly, reminding yourself of this fact to rationalize the way he’s behaving, to calm the havoc that he’s inciting in you.

You put your thumbs back to work and knead his temples again.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees as he closes his eyes again. He lets out a reposed sigh, then removes his hand from your neck.

You can now rest easy as the temptation backs away himself. You keep at it, observing his stern features which are getting more lax while you continue massaging him.

Finally, he does as you want him to do: sleep and keep his hands to himself.

So why is there a nagging emptiness brimming inside you? You’re not actually disappointed, are you?

“Tsukki,” you utter his name in hushed tones, hoping that he won’t respond.

With his eyes still shut, you thought he wouldn’t. Yet, he answers just as softly as you called him. “What?”

You sigh. Why is he still awake? He could’ve been asleep already or just stayed quiet and ignored you. Then you’d be able to sleep soundly knowing that you didn’t do anything that you could possibly regret in the morning.

You stop encircling your thumbs on his head and rest your palms on his cheeks instead. You lean closer to his face.

“If you change your mind in the morning, forget this happened,” you whisper before you succumb to the snares of attraction you’ve been running away from since you saw Tsukishima in the bar.

You capture his lips, gradually easing into it, giving yourself time to retreat before he responds. Apart from you not wanting to, he doesn’t give you much time at all as he puts his hand back on your neck and returns the kiss with a guttural sigh.

He eagerly nips on your lips, ardently moving against them as if he’s been wanting to do this for a while already. You respond with the same passion, pressing yourself closer to feel his body firm against yours.

He moves his hand from your neck to the back of your head, lightly gripping your hair as he coaxes your mouth open with the flick of his tongue on your lower lip.

You immediately yield to him, parting your lips so you can have more of what he’ll give. When he slips his tongue in and grazes yours, you taste the slight tang of alcohol. It’s very subtle, barely there, but it’s causing a buzz in your senses that no other liquor has provided.

It’s only a kiss, but you know that this is unlike the previous harmless ones you’ve shared with him.

Your soft moans on his mouth and his lips growing greedier with each nip tells you that this is one very dangerous kiss.

You drag your hand from his cheek to his chest to push him away, but he suddenly tugs your hair down, giving himself access to the column of your neck. This time, rather than nudging him away, you clutch his shirt tightly, feeling his mouth trail along the sensitive skin of your neck.

“T-Tsukishima,” you whine as his hand travels down your ass, his huge palm and long fingers tugging on the fabric as he gives one cheek a firm squeeze.

“Hmmm?” he hums on your skin before you feel his tongue swipe down on your collarbone.

Your skin is on fire but you feel like you’re drowning. Everything he’s doing is compelling you to want to go further than this, to let him touch you beneath the clothes you’re wearing, to let him kiss you wherever he pleases.

Tsukishima wants nothing but precisely that. He’d blame the alcohol, but nothing’s more intoxicating than the sound of your whimpers and your body deliciously pressed against his. His clothes hanging loosely on you only adds to his delirium.

He knows this is going to lead to something incredibly stupid and totally reckless, but stupid and reckless has never felt this delectable. How can he not indulge himself when the promise of your rapture is just within his grasp?

He just needs to know if you’re willing to cross the obscure boundary of the deal you once had.

He puts his free hand to use, sliding it underneath the baggy shirt you’re wearing. He carefully skims his hand up, grazing his fingers just below your bra. Meanwhile, his other hand on your bottom goes a bit further down, only for him to slip his hand inside the oversized shorts and feel your almost bare ass.

With his other hand feeling empty, he moves his palm up and kneads one supple bosom.

“Ah,” you clench his shirt tighter as you mewl from his touch. Even though he can’t see you clearly, your voice and the way your arch your body even closer to him is enough to cause a tent to form in his shorts.

He withdraws away from your neck and gets back to your lips. With his hand on your behind, he lugs you closer and grinds his erection on your thigh, letting you know how much you affect him, how much he wants you right now.

Then your body stills along with the quivering of your lips.

He pulls back to look at you and even with his blurred vision, he can sense that you’re frightened. “What’s wrong?” Just a while ago, you were melting within his embrace. Now, you’re shaking like a leaf.

“I-” Your breath hitches when you speak. “I can’t do this,” you whisper weakly even though you’re the one who instigated the kiss that led to this.

Although he’s confused about the sudden change of heart, he doesn’t push it. He immediately removes his hands off your delicate parts and puts considerable space between you.

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to seem so scared,” he tells you with an insipid, yet reassuring tone.

You are scared, but not of Tsukishima. You’re afraid of yourself, of your own desire that’s starting to get out of control. You know that one more kiss and you’ll totally cave in.

It shouldn’t be a problem since you know that he wants you just as you want him. The hard thing poking at your thigh is enough proof.

But what happens if morning comes and he wakes up regretting his inebriated urges? He might not be batshit drunk anymore but alcohol is still running through him. If not, he wouldn’t be openly flirting with you.

What about you? What will be your excuse if the sun rises and he asks why you went along with his intoxicated whims?

None.

You’ll be held responsible for leading him to dance the devil’s tango when he’s not capable of consenting to it with a straight head. You don’t want that. You don’t want to see disgust and regret splashed on his face in the morning, not when you terribly enjoy his kisses and touch.

So you softly push him away. “I’ll sleep beside you, Tsukishima. That’s all I’ll do,” you say with your head down and palms flat on his chest.

“Okay,” he obliges right after you said it. “Do you want me to turn away from you?”

Your eyes shoot up and meet his somber golden ones. “N-no. It’s fine. I’ll do it,” you stammer as you shift your position so your back is facing him. You take a while before you feel your heartbeat getting steady again as the temptation dwindles down.

You’re about to close your eyes when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder.

“Can I hold you like this?” he asks, his voice a bit farther than it was a while ago. You can tell that he’s maintaining his distance this time.

“Just like this,” he reiterates with his hand squeezing your shoulder to let you know that his hand won’t drift anywhere else.

You shut your eyes with a faint smile on your lips. You place a hand over his and give it a light squeeze as you murmur, “Yeah.”

Your hand starts to slip down when tonight’s events offer you a last surprise. As your hand glides down while you’re starting to drift off to sleep, he laces his fingers with yours to keep it in place.

You hum peacefully with a gratified smile fully forming on your lips.

You allow yourself to have this.

What harm can come from holding hands with your tipsy blonde middle blocker?

You wake up a bit refreshed. However, you can still feel the aftermath of Tsukki’s heavy figure slouched on your shoulder last night, or was it morning already? You try to massage your shoulder but as you move your hand, you feel someone else’s intertwined with it.

You press your lips together to prevent a smile when you realize that you two slept together. It’s nothing. You shouldn’t be smiling because of it. It’s just a tiny gesture of reassurance that things are okay between you two despite what almost happened.

You carefully untangle your fingers from him before you sit up. You glance sideways to see if you woke him up. He shuffles a bit but doesn’t seem to have been disturbed.

You look out the window and see that the sun has barely risen, meaning you haven’t gotten enough sleep. You know it’s no use getting back to sleep since your mind is already fully awake. You wouldn’t dare get out his room but you’re parched and you need to use the restroom.

You step out of his room and gently closes the door. After you finish using the restroom, you carefully go down their stairs. You take a peek if any of his relatives is up and are relieved when you see that their kitchen is empty.

You saunter your way to their kitchen, remaining as quiet as you can be while you fix yourself a glass of water.

“Morning.”

You flinch and almost drop the glass you just finished when you hear the unexpected greeting. You look at the source and see Akiteru, leaning sideways against the fridge with an amicable smile.

“Oh!” You exhale a huge breath of relief as you put down your glass on the counter. You turn to him to greet him but when you face him, he eyes what you’re wearing. You follow his gaze and realize that you’re wearing Tsukki’s clothes.

‘It’s not what you think,’ is what you want to say, but you already said that at the stairs. If you repeat it again, you’d seem more defensive than you already were. But how else would you explain yourself?

You look at him with pleading eyes and a weary smile. “I swear, it’s really not what it looks like,” you insist weakly. “I just had nothing to wear,” you add to your defense. Akiteru laughs and waves his hand considerately.

“Don’t worry! I believe you, y/n,” he says with his honest, kind smile. “It’s a bit early for you to be up though,” he remarks.

“Yeah. My mind is all...” You hover your hands on both sides of your head and shake them while you roll your eyes inanely.

He chuckles from the antic you didn’t even realize you did. “Wanna chat for a bit? Since you’re all,” he imitates what you did with your head but quelled and contained.

You smile from how pleasant he is despite teasing you so much for taking care of his brother. “Sure,” you answer kindly.

He walks towards their dining table and offers you a seat. You follow curtly and sit across him. He regards you decorously, making you feel at ease even though he’s practically a stranger.

“I have to ask, y/n. There’s really nothing between you and Kei?” he asks genuinely. You can tell that he’s looking out for his younger brother, hence the straightforward question.

You shake your head with a courteous smile. “Nothing. I don’t know if you know, Aki-san, but I’m also his manager.”

His eyes widen.

“You’re the Sendai Frogs’ manager?”

He’s seen Kei’s games but didn’t really have the chance to meet those who stayed on the bench. In one game he has watched, he heard some people beside him saying how blessed the Frogs are for having a ‘hot’ pair of coach and manager. Although he glanced very briefly because of his curiosity, he didn’t really see much of said pair for he was too far away in the stands. You beam proudly at him as you nod, confirming that the other half of the duo is indeed as lovely as the rumors he heard. “For three years now.”

Akiteru scans your face and can’t help but feel like he’s misjudged you a bit. He thought you’re a university student who likes going out and enjoys the most out of college life. He didn’t think you’d be working as a manager for a team. “I was just making sure he got home okay because we need him for practice. The next game is already next week.”

“Isn’t it tough to be his manager?” he asks, curious about what you think of Kei as an athlete.

“Not really. I like everyone in the team. To be honest though, he was a real pain in the a-” you cut yourself off and clear your throat. You must have realized that you’re talking to him, Kei’s older brother. Although, he wouldn’t really mind if you continue what you were about to say. It amuses him actually.

“What I mean to say was he was a bit difficult at first. But over time, I got used to him and actually found him nice to have in the team. He’s very smart and very disciplined. Even if he’s apathetic and sarcastic at times, I know he loves being part of the Frogs,” you explain.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says truthfully as he sees that you’re fond of Kei when your eyes shimmer a bit brighter when you talk about his brother.

“Sometimes people misunderstand him because he acts detached. The truth is when he starts caring about something, he cares deeply. That’s why he has that cool, uncaring facade,” he adds as he stares at the surface of the table.

When he raises his gaze to you, you look a bit mystified.

“I’m sorry! I rambled a bit there, didn’t I?” he laughs tensely.

You smile graciously and wave your palms. “No! It’s fine. I just wasn’t sure why you’re telling me this,” you admit with an apprehensive simper.

He grins warmheartedly. “I just felt like sharing,” he answers even though the real reason is because he’s convinced his brother likes you too and you might need to know that aspect of him.

Kei wouldn’t have allowed you to take him home no matter how drunk he is if he isn’t comfortable with you. The entertaining exchange you three had on the stairs was another clue. Lastly, Kei let you sleep in his room and you’re even wearing his clothes.

“Has he always been like that?” you ask.

“Not really,” his smile fades, for he knows that he’s a big factor why Kei is extremely apprehensive of getting too passionate about something. He brushes it off and continues, “But he’s always had that sarcasm ever since he was little.”

You giggle at his answer. “Why am I not surprised?” you say amusedly before your eyes wander to the window.

“The sun’s up,” you announce softly. “I should go back to Tsukki’s room. I need to change and leave soon so I can attend my earliest class.”

“Of course! Thanks for the small chat, y/n,” he says dearly.

“Any time, Aki-san,” you respond buoyantly then stand up. Instead of going back to Kei’s room, you head to the fridge and get a bottle of water.

“He’ll probably be thirsty as f… hell when he wakes up,” you explain, receptive of Kei’s condition even though his drunk brother must have given you a hard time last night. You bow thoughtfully then head up.

He watches you get back upstairs, careful not to make so much sound from your steps since it’s still early. Then he walks to the kitchen to get him some coffee while thinking how well you suit his younger brother. Part 6 || Part 8 || masterlist taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq @yongboxerrr @gomenpudding @kutiekoge @fizzfrick @flamingosis @korean-bbq @ihaterainbowsprinkles @red-lint @backtonormalthings @borpcorp @lonelyheartxn @venomouscreatures @lucyrocks86 @shawtiie @honestlysora

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader

188 notes · View notes

aestheticsfandomsandmore · 4 years ago

Text

In vino (beer) veritas

HE TIAN X MO GUAN SHAN FAN FIC.

Don't expect too much, really: I’m Italian, so I probably made a lot of mistakes (you can report them, I would be glad). There are few descriptions for the same reason and so this story could be a bit repetitive. There is not a proper ending. Maybe I’ll just leave it like this, maybe I’ll continue the fic some other day.

I posted it on AO3 if you want to read it there.

________________________________________

Mo Guan Shan hasn't heard from He Tian since the previous evening. Almost twenty hours have passed and he hasn't come to school. He's a bit worried, if he has to be honest with himself. The damn guy hasn't even texted to annoy him with random stuff, while he usually doesn't let him breath without interfering.

So Mo goes to his house. He's embarrassed, he's mad at himself for his dumb choice, he has no idea how to justify that choice to He Tian, especially when he's so damn sure the guy will give him a smirk and start assuming things, like that he cares about him. Whether it is true or not, Mo would always deny it until the end of times.

Still, the door of his loft is right there in front of him and he knocks, hoping for an answer so that he can stop worrying for that asshole.

However, the moment He Tian opens it, he only worries more and more.

The tall boy, always so handsome, with fucking perfect hair and fancy clothes, is now looking like he just jumped out of a hurricane: his shirt is wrinkled, the zip of his jeans is down (don't look, don't look, don't look), his dark hair are disheveled and his eyes are red and wide open.

“Ehy little Mo~ Wha-What ya doing here?” he asks him, so visibly confused that Mo wouldn't be surprised if he just fainted, right where he was.

“Stupid, what... what are you up to, what's goin' on?”

“Little Mo is worried about me?” even in that state he still manages to grin and to sound annoying.

“Move” Mo orders and the moment he gets in the loft he feels a bit shocked: a bunch of empty bottles of beer (at least five or six) are lying on the floor. He Tian is drunk. He turns back and looks at him. “Ohi, what is all of this about?”

He Tian closes the door and chaoticly walks toward the table before sitting on a chair. He laughs. “What do you mean?”

Is he fucking with me or what? Mo thinks, almost getting agry. “Why did you drink so much? Are you okay?”

“Suuure thing.”

Mo sighs. How much patience must he have with this guy?

“Okay. Let’s go to bed, shall we?” Mo Guan Shan reminds himself of how the doctors spoke to him when he happened to be in a hospital: like the things he was about to do were going to be a group thing or shit like that. He tries the same with He Tian, hoping it will work.

He Tian lets Mo putting his arm under his own armpit and then puts his around his neck, but it’s more like he’s grabbing it, like he’s trying to hold on to him.

“Okay, we’re moving.” Mo says and meanwhile counts more carefully the bottles of beer the idiot has drunk: eight. Eight fucking bottles. What the hell was wrong with him?

He carries He Tian to his bedroom and puts him under his sheets, but the right moment he tries to walk away the other boy clutches his wrists and pushes him to the bed as well.

“Ohi, the fuck-”

“Stay here for a while, c’mon~ You came all the way to my flat juuuust...” he seems to be struggling with making a coherent phrase. “... just to leave immediately?”

He can’t really say he is wrong, but he doesn’t want to stay either. “You’re wasted. I didn’t certainly come to babysit you.”

“You don’t have... to do... anything... just stay.”

He looks so weak and vulnerable, so different from his usual self.

He won’t remember anything anyway tomorrow, Mo thinks. “Whatever.”

He stays. He lays down on his right side and stares at He Tian. His eyes are closed but he is smiling. “Nice” he says, clearly happy he is going to stay.

“Why... why were you drinking so much?”

He Tian doesn’t answer. Mo almost thinks he fell asleep, but then he says: “I really want to kiss you.”

Mo winces. “What the bloody hell-”

“I won’t kiss you. Don’t you worry.” He Tian promises, his eyes still closed.

“Of course you won’t you chicken-”

“I don’t want you to cry again.”

Mo baffles. His heart starts ricing faster and faster. “What...?”

He Tian opens his eyes and looks at him with no smile of any sort. “You freaked out last time I kissed you.”

Mo blushes and gets furious. “Yeah - and whose fault is that?”

“Mine.” He Tian answers immediately. “I know it’s mine. I- I know.”

“Good.” Guan Shan says, but he’s actually pretty surprised He Tian admitted it so easily. He expected him to mock him and start making jokes about how he reacted back then.

They stay silent for a while. Then He Tian asks: “Am I... still... disgusting to you?” His voice is so low and depressed Mo could almost burst into tears.

“I-” he swallows, super nervous. That was uncertain territory for him. Such honesty from He Tian demanded just as much from him as well. “No. You are not.”

He Tian looks relieved. “Really?”

“Yeah. Actually... you never were.”

Now he looks shocked. “You didn’t mean it?”

“I meant it when I said it” Mo replies. “I was fucking infuriated, He Tian.” Now he’s getting angry again, just by the thought of that moment. He felt so ashamed he just wanted to disappear from the face of the Earth. “But... I never really thought you were a disgusting person, I just thought you did a disgusting thing.”

“I get that” He Tian says. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have forced you. Sorry.”

An apology, Mo thinks. He Tian apologised before, but always with a smart smirk on his face or his hands on Mo’s body - never sounded very convincing. Now he is talking from the bottom of his heart and Mo believes him. “Okay. Apologies accepted.”

He Tian smiles.

Mo smiles as well. He won’t remember any of this. He caresses his cheek with his thumb and He Tian shudders, almost as he punched him in the face. He stops immediatly, realizing what he was doing. “Okay. Now get some sleep, idiot.”

“Will you wait for me to fall asleep?”

He sounds like a kid. He was never good with kids. Way easier to go along with their insanity rather than question it. “Whatever. Now sleep.”

The morning after, the hangover is right there waiting for him to wake up in the most embarrassing way possible. His knees are pushing against his arms, his toes are crisscrossed, he smells like shit and he probably looks even worst. But none of this matters the moment he understands Mo is sleeping right next to him.

His first thought is that he’s still dreaming. It has to be a dream. Mo never stayed over the night and even if he managed to make him do that Mo would have never slept in his bed. Too risky.

But it takes him just a few moments to realize he’s not dreaming at all. He gets up, way too quickly - his head hurts. “Shit”. He goes to the bathroom and takes a cold shower. He wears something clean and takes his time to get back in the bedroom, scared that he just imagined things and he won’t find Mo in his sheets just where he left him. But he does. He’s still there.

He Tian smiles and takes a moment to appreciate that scenario, wishing it would happen again and again, every morning, preferably after a night of rough sex and sweet cuddles. Or just sex. Or just cuddles. Anything, literally anything to have Little Mo in his bed as often as possible.

“Ehy, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine~” he pats his head and ruffles his hair, foreshadowing a bad reaction coming from the boy.

It comes. Guan Shan slaps his hand and gets up, a bit uncomfortable, and then rubs his eyes, still sleepy. “’Morning dick head.”

He Tian grins. “Is there an actual explanation for which you slept in my bed? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I see you went back to yourself” Mo replies, annoyed.

He Tian doesn’t say anything. Went back to himself? What did that mean? “Uhm... what?” he asks, trying to sound entertained.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Okay, now he’s feeling a bit scared. What did he do? What did he say? “What should I remember? Did we have fun last night?”

“If you find funny getting wasted and unable to walk on your own towards your fucking bedroom, then yes, it was massive fun.”

He Tian laughs. He expected way worst. “Okay, so you took care of me, Little Mo~?”

He draws closer to him, but Mo stops his approach by grabbing his wrists and says: “I didn’t plan to stay the night, but since I did... I guess we should talk.”

Talk? Like, a proper chat? Offered by Mo? Was the world about to end? “Uhm, okay? What do you want to talk about? Our future together?”

“Can you be serious for one fucking second?”

He Tian blinks. What the fuck happened last night? “Sure.”

He lays down on the bed waiting for Mo Guan Shan to do the same. He stares at him and then sits. “I- I have some questions for you. And then, if you have any questions... for me... I’ll answer. I mean, I’ll try, at least.”

He is palpably nervous and the way he’s speaking is a total surprise: things like that never happen between the two of them; it’s always He Tian the one who brings up more weighty topics for them to discuss. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“Last night you told me...” Mo lowers his head, “that you’d like to kiss me.” He blushes.

He Tian is not surprised at all. “Well, is that a brand new information for you?”

“Cut the sarcastic crap out, thanks.”

“I’m not being sarcastic! I mean it: was it honestly shocking for you?”

Mo still doesn’t look at him in the eye, but he shakes his head.

“So what’s the question?”

“I was going to ask you if that were true, since you were drank, but apparently it was.”

“Yeah. What else?”

“You also told me that you won’t kiss me, even if you want to, because you’re... basically scared of my reaction. Is this true?”

Okay, he didn’t see this coming. “I-” he needs to think before answering. “I... kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“It’s just- I want to be sure you want that too.” He really means that. He never said that aloud. He never admitted that truth to himself. Heʼs waiting for someone’s permission to do what he wants. It is a weird and new concept for him. He knows that, being a kiss something that involves two people, it should just be normal to ask before doing anything. But he isn’t used to, anyway.

“You never seemed particularly interested in what I wanted.”

Now, that sentence gets him mad. “Look at me.” he orders.

Mo does that and he looks more confident than ever. He’s almost proud to see him like that.

“What’s the point of this?”

“Wait. I have another question.”

He Tian rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“You apologised. For what you did. And... you asked me if I still thought you were disgusting.”

He Tian would blush if he wasn’t the way he is. “And what did you answer?”

“I- Wait, did you mean it?”

“Uhm?”

“Do you actually feel sorry for what you did?”

“I apologised to you when I was sober as well, did you forget?”

“You never apologised for something specific.”

He Tian is getting impatient, but he still says: “I’m not sorry to have kissed you, I’m sorry I made you cry.”

That answer makes Mo mad - well, of course it does. “I cried because you kissed me. Because you’re a piece of shit.”

“Call me what you want” he is getting heated as well, “but you didn’t cry because I kissed you: you cried because I didn’t ask you and you were surprised and you didn’t want to accept that you liked me. You still don’t, by the way.”

Mo tries to punch him but He Tian’s faster and blocks him right away, switching positions and standing onto him on the bed.

“You have no idea what’s going on inside my head! You shit head, you have no right to tell me why I was crying!”

Mo screams, trying to free himself, but He Tian is holding his wrists with his hand and impeding his movements with his legs.

“Okay, hey, chill, calm down, please.”

It takes a while for Mo to actually stop moving. He grumbles and bites his lips. He Tian lets go of his right wrist to make him stop, touching his mouth very gently. “Don’t ruin it” he whispers.

Mo blushes and turns his head.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that - I’m sorry.”

Mo blinks and looks at him doubtful and hesitant.

“But now let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot it.”

“Why are you doing this? You could have just made up an excuse for staying here the night, as always, relying on the fact that I forgot everything. Why didn’t you?”

Mo observed him for a while and then said: “I- I wanted to know the truth.”

“The truth?“

“Yeah.”

“Little Mo, you asked him if I wanted to kiss you, which you already know I do, you asked me if I was sorry, which I had already said I am, and you wanted me to confirm a sentence which I pronounced when I was drunk - and so, completely honest.”

Mo looks pissed. “Listen, it wasn’t all this clear to me when I decided to talk to you, okay? You don’t have to play Mister I know-it-all, you’re already annoying enough.”

He Tian laughs. “Whatever.” He lets go of the other wrist and moves his legs away, still remaining on top of him. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

Mo seems confused. “Which one?”

“Am I still disgusting to you?” he asks this with a tiny grin, but he’s actually desperate for an honest answer. He knows Mo doesn’t find him disgusting, but to hear him saying it is a totally different story.

Guan Shan snorts. “No, you are not. Happy now?”

He Tian smiles. “Very.”

“Asshole.”

They stay like this for some time. He Tian is almost leaning towards his lips, when Mo interrupts the silence. “Oh, right! Why the fuck did you drink eight bottles of beer?”

#19 days #fan fiction #19 days fic #19 days fan fiction #he tian x mo guanshan #he tian x mo guan shan #mo guan shan #he tian #tianshan #tianshan fanfic #old xian #my fic #i'm italian so please forgive me #i know this probably sucks

150 notes · View notes

lancearcherinrippedjeans · 4 years ago

Text

If You Seek Amy

***********

Starring - Kenny Omega, Karl Anderson, Doc Gallows and our wonderful OC, Veronica Rodriguez

Word Count - 2,055

Category - SMUT, tiniest bit of comedy, and a bit of fluff at the end

Pairings - Kenny Omega/OC

Summary - Kenny dragged Veronica out of the bar, the place he took her was DEFINITLEY unexpected, but the night ahead wasn't either.

Warnings - AHEM, SMUT, voyeurism, just the Good Brothers being themselves (insert eye roll)

other author's notes - this was all @adriii-omega's doing. and READ CHAPTER 2 FIRST

***********

all of the boys and all of the girls are begging to if you seek Amy

On the other side of the bar was a smiling Veronica and half wasted Kenny Omega. “Why don’t we get out of here? It isn’t as fun as this place I know down the street.” Kenny whispered in her ear. They were sitting at two of the stools in the bar, his arm resting over her shoulders. She looked around and saw Nova and Sawyer playing a game of pool with Trent and Chuck Taylor. “They’ll be fine. If they get mad at you just tell them it was my idea.” he stood off his barstool and held his hand out for her to jump off hers. “Where exactly is this place Kenny…” she questioned him as he guided her to the doors of the bar. He smirked and let out a low chuckle, “You’ll see.”

“A STRIP CLUB?” She raised her brow in confusion. Kenny nodded. “I thought this would be a perfect place to…conversate.” His eyes wandered over her as she looked around at the activity going on. “Are you sure you’re just not here to watch half-naked women dance?” She crossed her arms, clearly uninterested. “What? No, no. It’s not like that at all.” He assured her before grasping her hand into his. “I just…”

“KENNY OMEGA?”

“IS THAT YOU BROTHER?”

Veronica and Kenny turned their heads in the direction the voices had come from. Two familiar bald men approached them and pulled Kenny in for a hug. “What the hell are you doing here?” The taller of the two had asked. Kenny searched for words before looking at you, and then back at them. He seemed to be talking with them using his facial expressions, and Veronica was having a hard time understanding. The shorter one-clicked his tongue before turning to her, “You must be Veronica. My name is Karl Anderson, and this is my tag team partner Doc Gallows.” Anderson smiled at her as he stuck his hand out for a handshake. She accepted it before he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Over her shoulder, he sent a wink to Kenny making him roll his eyes, and Gallows to punch him lightly on the shoulder. She pulled away from him, knitting her brows in confusion.

“You guys could come over to our table, it’s just us by ourselves.” Doc had offered. Veronica was about to decline until Kenny had beat her to it. She sighed as she pulled out her phone to text Sawyer or Nova, until Kenny came beside her, and took it out of her hand. “Don’t go yet,” He begged, shutting her phone down before putting it in his jeans pocket. “You said you wanted to ‘conversate’ with me, but instead we’re following random men in a club.” She whispered-shouted. “They’re not strangers. I know how they are. They’ll find someone to entertain them within a couple of minutes.” He let her slide into the booth before sitting next to her.

“Where's your guys’ significant others?” Kenny had asked while resting his hand on Veronica’s lap. She looked over at him perplexed. “Oh, they’re back at the hotel with the kids.” Gallows had begun to explain. “So let me get this straight. Both of you have families and instead of being with them…you’re here why?” Veronica couldn’t help but ask. Kenny held back his laughter. Karl and Doc looked at each with a serious expression before bursting out laughing, “You’ve got quite the girl here Omega. Where did you find her?” Gallows asked as he wiped his eyes. Veronica squinted in confusion as a waitress walked over to their table. Her shirt pushed up her chest making Anderson and Gallows straighten up. “Is there anything I could get you guys?” she asked as she looked around the table. “Uhm…no, I think we’re good.” Kenny said blankly not looking directly at her, but trying to get her to leave as fast as possible. “Hey, you’re cute. You got a girlfriend?” She pushed up against the table trying to get his attention. Veronica bit her lip, forcing herself to try not to say anything. “You see…I actually-”

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Veronica slammed her hands on the table before getting up. The waitress moved to the side creating room for her. “Veronica, wait.” Kenny had begun to get up, before she pushed him back down. “Stay. I’ll be back.” She slid past him making him have to hold back his groan from how close she was to him. He kept his eyes on her till she disappeared around the corner to the bathroom. The waitress was still standing at their table batting her eyelashes, and getting closer. Kenny was beginning to get frustrated not just sexually but physically. “Look, I’m not interested. Go find someone else to hump.” He rubbed his hands down his face while she stood with her mouth open. She hid her head and made her way onto the next table.

“Wow, Kenny. Didn’t think you had it in you.” Gallows had spoken. “She was hot. Why didn’t you do anything?” Kenny adjusted himself before leaning back trying to ignore his erection. “Why would you ask such a dumb question, Doc. It’s obvious. He’s got the hots for another girl. Which I understand-” Gallows nodded in agreement. “Couldn’t you tell when she slid past him? He almost let out right there and then.” He joked, making Kenny bite the inside of his mouth. Gallows looked around making sure no one could hear him as he leaned closer to whisper, “Have y'all done it yet?” Kenny’s eyes widened. “N-No. I have only known about her for a week- she’s a coworker for now.” Anderson looked surprised as he glanced at Gallows.

“She’s worth it. Take the risk you brought her here for a reason man. Go for it, or someone else will.” Karl spoke. Kenny nodded, “I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the booth and made his way next to the area where the bathrooms were.

“Dude, we’re terrible people.” Doc began to laugh, making Karl laugh as well. “We might be bad people, but at least we’re great best friends. We’re helping our boy get some action.”

“That’s not the only reason and you know it.” Gallows chuckled. “Kenny can’t be the only one getting any fun.” Karl shrugged, as they sat back and let their plan unfold.

Veronica had splashed a bit of water on her face before deciding to exit the bathroom. She had stayed there for several minutes looking over herself, and trying to figure out where she knew Gallows and Anderson from - it was at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t seem to quite memorize them. She exited the bathroom before someone pulled her into a dark room. She almost screamed until the light was turned on, and saw Kenny. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ABOUT TO KILL ME?!” She shoved him, making him grab the couch for balance.

“Where did you even drag me to?” She looked around and noticed the way the room was decorated. “Come here.” He ushered his fingers in a forward motion as she slowly walked towards him. He pulled her forward, and brought her into his arms. “I just wanted to make sure that we’re good. What happened out there was nothing. She was nothing. I do want to hang out with you, only you. It’s just us now.” She was a bit shorter than him, so he had to look down. “Veronica,” she hummed in response, making a knot in his stomach begin to form. “Do you trust me?” She looked up and nodded as she felt him begin to get hard up against her. She bit her lip, before connecting her lips to his. He felt around with one hand to find the couch, while the other began to slide down her back, and to her ass. He lightly squeezed her before making her sit on the couch. Kenny disconnected his lips from her making her groan in frustration, “You’re sure right?” He asked panting.

“You talk too damn much.” She pulled him back down letting their hands roam, he started to unzip the back of her (technically his) dress letting it fall down her shoulders. They fell back on the couch still connected as Kenny began to grind his hips into hers. Her hands slid down to find their way to his pants. She unzipped them quickly, attempting to slide them off. “I got it, don't worry.” he mumbled while leaving bites on her neck. She could feel herself turn into a puddle as he teased her entrance. “Take your dress off now,” he ordered, making her pout. She wiggled the dress off letting it hit the floor making Kenny take the rest of his clothes off in a rush. She topped him before being flipped over, and having her hands pinned above her head. She felt him slowly begin to enter her before the door was opened then quickly shut again. She nearly jumped out of her skin until Kenny rammed into her with no warning making her gasp. “I think- oh my god. That feels so good.” She breathed out. In the corner of her eye she saw two shadows watching them , but then she shut them again , because the pleasure was way too good right now. Each stroke made her feel closer and closer, and Kenny as well. About 45 seconds later she began to hear mumbling...

“This is way better than porn hub.”

“It’s like watching a Broadway performance, shit I don’t think I can last that much longer Gallows.”

Kenny pulled out, making Veronica turn to the side and release, making someone curse at the other side of the room. “That was…” Kenny tried to catch his breath, until he saw his two friends with their dicks out leaning on the wall. “WHAT? GALLOWS? ANDERSON?”

“I knew someone else was in here.” Veronica shot up immediately regretting it as she now had the image of them together naked, in her brain. “Oh hey Kenny.” Gallows waved as he zipped his pants back up. Anderson sat next to Veronica before she quickly jumped up. “I thought you guys left? WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Kenny tossed Veronica his shirt before pulling his boxers back on.

“Well when we first came we weren’t looking for that much, but then ran into you, and we just knew the sex between two attractive people is something we couldn’t miss.” Karl smiled as Veronica looked at him with disgust, “You know now that I think about it- we basically had a social distancing orgy.” Gallows chimed in, making Anderson nod.

“Yea…. I’m out.” Veronica picked up her dress and exited the room.

“If the sex is that good all the time, I would never leave my house.” Gallows told Kenny as he looked at his friends with disbelief. “Don’t let someone like her get away because of guys like us. You’re Kenny Omega. Tie that down.” Karl patted Kenny on the back before reaching back to his dick. Kenny quickly turned around, “See you later guys,” and shut the door making his way back outside.

“Are you going to get back home safe?” Kenny asked as they walked down the street back to the bar. “For the hundredth time, yes.” she laughed. Her dress was sloppily back on her body with Kenny’s shirt hanging over. “Oh- here you might need this.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her her cell phone. She reached to grab it before he held it over his head, “You got to get it from up here though.”

She rolled her eyes before she stretched her arm to grab it. When she was inches Kenny grabbed her arm , and connected their lips dropping the phone in her purse. “I’ll see you later, Kenny.” Veronica smirked as she pushed hair out from his face. Kenny waved as she walked to their rental car still sitting in the parking lot.

She turnt the car on and “If You Seek Amy” by Britney Spears blasted on the radio station. She smiled as she looked over at the clock. The time read 2:45 AM in bright red letters. “God … what am I going to tell Sawyer and Nova?”

ahem, hope you enjoyed you filthy animals.

#kenny omega #kenny omega x reader #kenny omega x oc #aew fanfiction #aew x reader #aew #all elite wrestling #doc gallows #karl anderson #smut

21 notes · View notes

tuffduff · 4 years ago

Text

We Could Be Real (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Words: 1,763

Request: @rumyapricotprincess: Hi can you write axl x reader where they are best friends but he has secretly liked her and when she has a heart break because of a random guy he consoles her and eventually she learns his feeling?:))

A/N: Thank you for this request hun, I love this prompt! I actually quite like how this turned out, I hope y’all do too! 🖤🖤🖤

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker

“Y/N? Say something, you’re fucking scaring me.” You sniffled again against the receiver pressed to your ear, your hand over your mouth in a desperate effort to hold back the tears before they started. You were so lost it hurt to breathe, and your only instinct was to call your best friend. But once his voice actually came through, you couldn’t get a single word out. “Hold the fuck up, are you crying?” Axl demanded when a small audible sob escaped you. “It was that motherfucking son of a bitch, wasn’t it? I’ll be there in five minutes.” The dial tone met your ears. You stood in place for a moment, your head spinning by how quickly the night had taken a turn for the worst.

Knowing Axl was probably getting close, you walked out the front door to your apartment and sat down on the steps outside your door. Underneath the amber glow of the nearby streetlights, you watched a few teardrops stain the concrete before quickly drying in the summer heat, your chin resting in your hands. Already, the pain was beginning to leave and now all you felt was a tired emptiness.

“Are you trying to get taken by someone now?” Axl’s gentle but stern voice made you look up. When he saw your face, it looked as though two emotions were fighting for the right to control his features; his jaw clenched visibly and fury burned in his eyes. “Y/N, he isn’t worth your tears.” His voice, though, was tender and low. He climbed up the steps and sat down next to you and put his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. The smell of cigarettes comforted you and you watched your tears leave drops on his jeans now.

“I know he isn’t. But you still feel stupid when someone cheats on you.” Axl stiffened next to you, but his hand on your shoulder remained light.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He decided.

“He isn’t worth the prison sentence.” You sniffed. “But now it’s just...I feel so dumb. I’m embarrassed of myself. I knew I should’ve ended it a long time ago; I never should’ve given him a chance to begin with. Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’” You said to Axl.

When you started dating this new guy, you and Axl had actually gotten into an argument over it. Axl had told you he was just a man whore and it was only a matter of time until he cheated. You and Axl didn’t talk for nearly a month because of it. And over what? A cheating idiot, just like Axl predicted. All that time wasted all because a naive part of you didn’t want to believe it and wanted to think that you were different.

“It’s not like I wanted you to get hurt.” Axl finally responded. “I just had a feeling about him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the idiot for thinking I was something special.” You shared your thoughts with Axl. “That I was actually different.”

“Hey,” Axl scolded you now, reaching out and grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards him. “You are special. Why do you think I got so pissed when you said you were giving that fucker a chance?”

“Obviously, I’m not, or I wouldn’t have gotten cheated on.”

“That’s all on that dumb fuck, it has nothing to do with you!” Axl yelled, shades of his notorious temper driving his voice louder with passion. You frowned at him now, watching as he shook his head with annoyance, the way someone would when a fly buzzed by too many times. “Y/N, you’re so fucking special it scares me.”

“What do you mean?” You murmured quietly. A long silence hung in the air between the two of you, the only sound filling the air were the nighttime crickets and distant cars on a busier street with the occasional honk.

Axl finally snorted, maybe at whatever thought he currently had, before he shook his head again and idling pulled out his pack of cigarettes. “You’re one of those girls that...anyone with sense can see he’s in deep shit when he looks at you. It’s like, oh fuck. Goner. It’s like, one look in those eyes and you start imagining, you know, that kinda life that people only hope for. House, kids, the picket fence, the shiny ring. Peace.” His voice was low, much gentler than his prickling barbs of anger just moments prior. Contemplative, fleeting, wispy thoughts that almost felt as though you weren’t even supposed to be hearing. He pulled the lighter from his pocket and finally lit the cigarette that had been dangling between his lips. “You’re one of those girls that becomes a song, a fantasy. You keep singing it every night, living out that daydream and before you know it, ten—twenty years pass and then you go, damn. She was really something special. Maybe I could’ve actually had that.” Finally, he looked at you as he blew out a big cloud of smoke before he offered the cigarette to you.

Normally, you didn’t smoke, but the night seemed to call for it and you took a shaky drag. You coughed slightly and became aware of the tears now just a halfway dry trail on your face, and Axl’s blurry shape in your peripheral vision. You passed the cigarette back to him.

“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.” You finally replied carefully, turning to see his reaction.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged a little as his eyes studied the empty road in front of you, before he gave you sideways look and something of a half-smirk. “Ever since I laid eyes on you.”

You thought about the implication of his words, no, the confession within them. You thought about your own memory of the first time you met Axl, already a shooting star, already something special even if the rest of the world didn’t quite know it yet. From the very beginning, he always felt like something unobtainable, so you tried your best not to ever entertain the thought. But, now, this? Axl, fantasizing about a domestically blissful life with you?

“Axl...why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your heartbreak was nearly forgotten now, but the spinning delirium from before was back as the landscape of your life began shifting. If you woke up back in your room in a minute, that would make more sense than the jumble of reality in front of you.

Axl shrugged again, looking down at the ground.

“It’s not like girls like that—a girl like you—is ever gonna be happy with someone like me. That’s not how the fairytales work. I’ve got a lot of baggage, I’ve been through stupid shit, you know that. I’ve got more in common with strippers and the homeless guy I passed on my way here.”

“Oh yeah?” You challenged now. “Because I’m pretty sure next to my coworkers, you’re the person I spend most of my time with. If we have nothing in common, how come we never run out of things to talk about? How can we talk for hours about dreams and if they’re worth it and if we think God is real and how much our parents suck if there’s nothing in common? Or is that something you chat about with the strippers too?” He stood up, now looking at you defensively.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m the only one keeping shitty company, need I remind you about what happened tonight; you weren’t ever interested! I’m not gonna say something stupid and then lose you over it!”

“Axl..!” You groaned in exasperation, standing too. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you and I, how many times I’ve had to stop myself, how many times I’ve had to tell myself no. Because you’re you. You’re Axl Rose, you could have anyone...” he shook his head.

“The more people I meet, the more I realize they’re all the same, and it all just…circles back to you.” He stared at you outright, facing you head on. “We all just want something real, at the end of the day.” You stared back at him.

“Real.” You whispered, your eyes trailing upwards to look at your apartment building and the stars in the sky over it. “Remember when you put my address down when you applied at that shitty record store? It was literally maybe three days after we first met.” You heard Axl chuckle a little. You still got his mail, even though he had moved into his own place, a nice house, the first place he had ever owned. “Axl, you’re my best friend, and I love you—"

“I get it, Y/N.” Axl muttered. When you looked away from the stars and back to him, he was already walking down the steps to leave. “You don’t have to say it, I already know what you’re gonna say; I don’t want to ruin the friendship either. That’s why I always kept my mouth shut.” He just kept walking down the steps, away from you, as he spoke. “I’ll just go, I’ll give you a few days—”

You took the steps by two down after him and grabbed him by his shoulders to turn him around and press your lips against his.

After a moment, he began kissing you back, his hands latching into your hair like a clip. And for the first time, with your heart fluttering in a dizzy euphoria frenzy, you allowed yourself to freely imagine it, unrestrained. Kissing these lips when you felt like it, forever if you wanted. Turning in bed and slipping into the mold of his body, having his comfort on every bad day. You with him, you and him, that untouchable idea no longer just a figment of your strongest desires.

“You were putting words in my mouth.” You finally said breathlessly as you pulled back.

“You were putting something else in mine.” Axl teased, and you laughed, leaning your forehead against his.

“We don’t have to ruin this.” You told him, growing serious again and peaking up into his eyes through your eyelashes. “We can have this; it doesn’t have to be a daydream.” Axl was holding his breath, maybe out of fear, maybe out of nervousness. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to convince him of your words. “If we want it, we can.”

Finally, he locked his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek. “I want you.” He agreed. “I’ve always wanted this.”

#axl rose #axl rose imagine #axl rose x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #gnr #gnr imagine

234 notes · View notes

firefly464 · 4 years ago

Text

The Real World - Chapter 4

Uhhh so I may have gotten a bit carried away writing this chapter... Oh well! I had lots of fun writing it :D

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Tommy stared out the window of his small wooden shack. He had been relocated from the broken down van to a new, hastily put together room in the corner of L’manberg. Everyone had figured that the van was due to collapse at any second, and they didn’t exactly want the teenager in there when it did. After all, it wasn’t like he could just go back to his own base. That was directly in the middle of the Dream SMP. Going back there would be like signing a death warrant.

He understood his friends thought process, he really did. But just because he understood it didn’t mean he was happy about it. Ever since he arrived in this strange world, the broken down van had been his home away from home. He knew that just being in it was dangerous, but that didn’t really matter. It was important to him. He was just glad they hadn’t forced him to stay in the underground bunker with everyone else.

He sighed as he stared up at the night sky. What time was it now anyways. 2am? Maybe 3? Didn’t really matter either way. His mind was too full for sleep. He kept thinking about his home. His real home. He thought about his family and friends. He thought about his dogs, his favorite foods. How long had it been since he last slept in his own bed? Since he had eaten something that wasn’t just bread and steak?

A tear slid down his face. He wanted to go home… But he had no idea how he had even gotten to this world, much less how to get out. Hell, there wasn’t even anyone who he could talk to about it. Unless…

A thought crossed his mind. He recalled how Dream had acted during the duel, in the seconds before he had lost consciousness. He had screamed and ran over to his side, as if trying to check on him. It was something that didn’t match up with the stories tubbo had told him. Whenever Tubbo had brought up Dream, his eyes filled with genuine anger and hatred. He spoke of a ruthless man who had destroyed their lives. A man who wasted no time in attempting to blow them all up. A man who had laid down explosives just to prove a point. It was a story that just hadn’t made sense to Tommy.

Dream was a nice guy, and a friend. Sure he would tease and poke fun, but that didn’t change the fact that he meant well. It also didn’t make sense with what he had seen. After the duel, Tommy hadn’t seen Dream at all. If the stories Tubbo told were true, then it would have made sense for him to attack while he was unconscious or wounded.

Maybe… Maybe Dream was connected to what was happening to him? He knew that it was a stretch, but at this point he had no other leads. He just wanted to figure out what was going on and how he could leave.

He scanned the dark L’manberg property. Empty. Not a single torch or lantern was lit. Which meant… it was clear for him to make a run for it. He knew for a fact that none of his friends would support him going to visit the enemy. If they had any idea what he was trying to do, they would lock him inside the wooden shack until the nether froze over.

Quietly, he slipped out into the warm summer night. As quietly as he could, Tommy crept across the terrain to a small hole in the wall. He couldn’t go out the main entrance, it was completely caved in from the explosion. Trying to climb it would only end poorly.

He was nearly out of the L’manberg property when a voice cut through the silent night air. “Tommy? Where are you going?”

The teenager swore under his breath. Of course Wilbur was out here. He had even said earlier that he was going to try to keep watch. Tommy turned to where the voice had come from, and nearly shrieked. In the pale moonlight, Wilbur looked like a monster straight out of a story book. His eyes were blood-shot and puffy. Pale, almost translucent looking skin was stretched across his face. His cheeks were sunken in , giving him a ghostly appearance.

Tommy stepped closer to the older man, now feeling concerned more than anything “I was just… going for a walk…” he said, trying to make the lie sound convincing.

Wilbur scoffed. “At 2 in the morning? I thought you were supposed to be resting.” he raised an eyebrow

“I um… got better?” he responded, running his hand through his hair, “and I just wanted to go look around a bit… I’ve been inside for the past week.” he chuckles nervously

“Chugging 5 health potions if not enough to be considered ‘better,’ Tommy. I thought you already learned your lesson.” He made air quotes with his fingers to send his message across.

Tommy’s eyes widened “how did you…” his voice trailed off

His friend laughed at his confusion. “I saw you on the roof of the van earlier. No way would you have been able to make it up there if you were still injured. A quick check on our potion supply was all it took to confirm my suspicions.”

“W-well then you should know that I’m perfectly capable of going on there on my own! I’m healed up now!”

“Tommy, I don’t care how healed you are. You aren’t going out there on your own. Understood?”

Tommy’s jaw dropped open “What? Why the fuck not?”

“Because it's dangerous! Who knows what could happen to you if you went out there. Dream already tried to kill you once, who's to say that it won't happen again?”

“I can take care of myself! I’m not going to do anything stupid”

“Do you really expect me to believe that? You literally challenged Dream to a fucking duel while we tried negotiating peace treaties. If that isn’t idiotic then I don’t know what is.”

Tommy took a deep breath. Of course Wilbur didn’t trust him to go out on his own. Pretty much every other choice he had made was rash and dumb. Even if it had been mostly for the sake of entertainment in the real world, that wasn’t the case in this world. He was just a brash teenager here. “Will, I’ll be fine. I promise. I just need a chance to go and clear my head. We both know that I won’t get a chance to during the day.”

Wilbur closed his eyes, considering Tommy’s offer. He did understand where he was coming from. The L’manberg territory wasn’t that big, and it could feel suffocating at times. Besides, he needed to trust his second in command, didn’t he? “Fine. But I expect you to be back by dawn. And I want you to come back and report to me immediately if you see anything suspicious. Understood?”

He nodded, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. “Of course,” he said, taking a step towards the hold in the wall. “Go get some rest Wilbur. You look terrible”

He shook his head “I’m fine. I just need to keep everyone safe”

“You can’t keep people safe if you’re passed out. Go rest. I’ll wake you up if I see anything.”

“... Fine. Just be careful” Wilbur stood and walked away from the tree he was sitting against. Tommy stared at his friend’s retreating figure for a moment, before walking out into the crisp summer night.

As soon as he knew Tommy had left, Wilbur turned and rushed towards the hole in the wall. Like hell was he going to let Tommy go off on his own. The kid was going to do something stupid with no one to back him up. Will wasn’t going to let that happen.

~~~

Dream stood in the training grounds above his home. With a wooden training sword in his hand, he attempted to practice some of the techniques that George had used earlier that day. God, why was he so fucking useless?

24 seconds. That was how long the longest bout had lasted. 24 seconds before Dream surrendered. It had taken George 4 different bouts before he had called it a day. Dream had refused. He begged his friend to teach him how to use the sword, making up some bull shit excuse about the lingering effects from the poison to justify it. He wanted to learn how to fight. After all, he was apparently the best at combat in the smp. It made sense. After all, he was a world record holder. So why on earth was he so useless?!

“Because its not a fucking game anymore,” he said out loud, frustration seeping into his voice. He was glad no one was around to hear him, or to see him stumbling around with the practice sword.

“Here I thought you were supposed to be good at PVP,” said a voice behind him. Tommy's voice… Dream whirled around, still holding the sword.

On one hand, he felt a rush of relief at the words. Tommy had survived. He was ok. But on the other, he was still the second in command of L’manberg. For all Dream knew, Tommy could have been sent to assassinate him. It was a theory that was only made more likely when he considered his failure from earlier that day. Wilbur had somehow heard about how weak and pathetic he had become, and sent Tommy to kill him while he couldn’t fight back.

Dream locked eyes with his friend. Tommy stood at the opposite side of the small training grounds, watching Dream practice. The teenager stepped onto the wooden floor and picked up one of the practice swords. He held it in his hand for a moment, before making a couple swings and stabs. He may not have fallen over, but he still looked like a dork.

Tommy let out a laugh, “This is so cool. This is so fucking cool!” he spun and pointed the sword at Dream. His face had a massive grin on it, making him look like a little kid. “Come at me bitch boy, I’ve got a knife! What are you gonna do about it!”

Dream raised an eyebrow. Tommy was acting as if he had never held a sword in his life. But that didn’t make sense. In this world, sword fighting seemed to be rather common. And Tommy had been rather skilled at minecraft PVP. That should have translated to his combat abilities in this world. So why was he acting like a 5 year old? “You act like you’ve never held a sword before,” Dream said.

Tommy stared at Dream, trying to gauge his reaction. He tried to figure out the best response. He had heard Dream muttering about it not being a game anymore, but that wasn’t nearly enough to risk revealing himself. So instead he pushed just a little more. “Says the one flailing around like a headless chicken. Aren’t you supposed to be the Minecraft god? Or are you just bad?”

Dream froze. No one had even mentioned the word Minecraft since he had arrived here. Whenever he tried bringing it up in conversation, his friends had just looked at him like he was crazy. But here Tommy was just saying it like it was nothing. “How do you-” he began to ask, but was cut off by the sound of metal.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. Dream knew something. And he wasn’t sharing. In a single motion, he drew his netherite sword and pointed it at Dream’s throat. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his hand from trembling. Dream dropped his practice sword and raised his hands in the air. Tommy was seething with anger. “I fucking knew it! You stupid son of a bitch I knew you had something to do with this! What did you do to me?! Where am I?! Why can’t I go home?!”

“I-”

“What are you planning Dream? What are you trying to get out of this?” He growled.

“I don’t know!” Dream said desperately “I don’t know what's going on!”

“Bullshit! You’re the only one who’s even remotely reacted to something from the real world. You must know something!”

“Tommy I just want to go home!” Dream shouts “I don’t fucking belong here! Don’t you think if I knew how to leave, I would?!”

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” he said, stepping forward slightly so that the tip of the blade rested against Dream’s throat.

“Because you’re my friend!” he yelled. “If I knew how to help you, or what to do, then I would!”

Tommy considered Dream’s words. He had a point… the two of them were friends, weren’t they? Tommy should at least give him the courtesy of listening to his side of the story before jumping to any conclusions. Dream’s appearance only solidified his decision. His eyes were red and swollen from lack of sleep. He looked like he was in a similar condition to Wilbur. Except instead of stress and worry, Dream’s declining health was due to frustration and fear.

He lowered the blade to his side and stepped back. “Fine. I’ll believe you for now.” He looked down at his hand “When were you brought here?”

Dream let out a breath of relief. He knew that if Tommy had really wanted to, he could have run him through, no questions asked. And Dream didn’t even know how to defend himself. “About a week ago I think? It was during the bow duel…”

Tommy nodded. “Same. All I remember was being on the computer, and then suddenly I held a bow and had an arrow through my chest.”

Dream winced “Are you ok now at least? I’ve been really scared that I actually killed you…”

“Fine. I drank a couple health pots earlier today, so at least my wound is healed. It’s been more boring than anything else” he was silent for a moment, thinking. “Dream… How much do you know about the war?”

“Um, wasn’t it pretty much the same as it was in game?”

Tommy shook his head “No. According to Tubbo, it was so much worse here… Apparently the war has been going on for over half a year now. I guess the only reason everyone lasted so long was because they were constantly downing health and regen pots. But even so, I guess it was a bloodbath…” his voice trailed off, remembering the pained and weary expression on Tubbo’s face when he had talked about it.

“Are you serious…?”

“Yeah. Everyone back in L’manberg is terrified of you. They all despise you for what you’ve done to them. I guess the other you was a ruthless monster…”

The concerned look on Dream's face only grew more and more as Tommy continued talking. The two of them stood in silence once Tommy had finished. After a couple minutes of thinking, he finally spoke. “Tomorrow, I’ll be calling a council to negotiate a peace treaty. I’m going to put an end to this war, once and for all.”

Tommy nodded “that sounds… good. It’ll be nice to not have everyone look so fucking scared all the time” He glanced up at the moon in the sky. “I need to be heading back. Will is gonna be worried if I’m not back soon.”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it past your bedtime?” he asked with a chuckle

A smile broke out onto tommys face “I’ll have you know, I am far too old and mature for bedtimes.”

“Right. I’m sure that everyone would agree with that”

“Oh they most definitely would. After all, I’m the second in command to Wilbur! It takes a lot of maturity to do that.”

“Uh huh. Get going you freaking child”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of your stupidity!” Tommy called out as he walked away from Dream and back to L’manberg. For the first time since he had woken up, he felt actually hopeful. Hopeful that he would find a way home. Hopeful that maybe things would turn out ok. He grinned to himself as he jogged down the wooden path, mostly just grateful that he was no longer all alone.

~~~ Wilbur paced in his small room, trying to figure out what to do. The conversation between Tommy and Dream echoed in his mind. At first, he had been following Tommy to protect him and make sure he didn’t do anything rash. He had very nearly revealed himself to the teenager when he had approached the training grounds. But then he had heard him start to speak.

Tommy may have baited and attacked Dream at first, but then Dream had claimed to be a friend. Wilbur wasn’t sure what bothered him more. The fact that Dream was claiming to be an ally, or the fact that those words had caused Tommy to spare him. Just last week, Tommy had sworn to kill Dream, no matter what. Why on earth had he suddenly changed his mind?

Unless… Unless it was all an act. An act to get close to them, then stab them in the backs. No. No Tommy would never do that. There had to be some other explanation. Some other reasoning for his behavior.

Wilbur hadn’t heard the conversation after Tommy had spared Dream. He knew that he should have stayed, but he couldn’t bear watching his friend betray him. Better to live in the dark. He would just have to keep an eye on him. Yeah. Keep an eye on him, and make sure that he didn’t do anything to hurt them.

It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

~~~

“Look. If you’re here to ask about Tommy or Dream, then you can piss off. I came back to streaming for a break from all that,” Tubbo told his viewers. His eyes involuntarily drifted towards his other monitor, as they often did when he thinking about his missing friends. His second monitor was where he had Discord open. Where Tommy and Dream still sat in the main voice channel, completely silent. Neither of their families had the heart to turn off their computers, so they just sat there, exactly as they were before they vanished. Tubbo liked to sit in the vc whenever he was streaming. Something about it was… comforting to him. He wasn’t sure why.

His attention was drawn back to the stream chat by a donation. It was filled with questions about his missing friends.

He let out a groan of frustration. “All right, we’re going on sub only mode for a bit. I can’t deal with this shit right now. Thanks mods,” he told the chat, “I know, I know, I don’t like it either. But I just can’t deal with questions about them right now. Sorry guys.”

That was when it happened. A rustling sound. A voice very quietly saying, “what the…”

Tubbo frowned in confusion. “Can you guys hear that? Or is it just me?” he asked.

That was when he heard it. Tommy's voice. Tommy’s voice coming in from the discord vc. All he said were two words. “Hello? Tubbo?”

The stream went offline.

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

129 notes · View notes

ranmanjuu · 4 years ago

Text

—gen z mc with uesugi-takeda + misc. forces

ahh, i’m so glad people liked my gen z oda hcs! lol it’s usually pretty slow from my writing blog experiences until now, but i’m rlly happy! i was planning to do u-t and the others but then i decided to stop at oda and continue another day. thx for the asks tho! and yeah, i do take requests but it’s more of a pasttime, since this whole blog is just my stupid ideas written out and shared out there.

also someone said that a gen z mc could be old enough to romance the warlords, like, early twenties. and yes, very fair if u wanna romance ur mans with memes and existentialism go for it!! i just think it adds more to the comedy side of this child they have to babysit, while not fearing death or any consequences from their dumb of Ass decisions. someone who fears no death and armed with no braincells is a fool, but a Child who fears no death and armed with no braincells is also a fool, but more bizzare and has That Vibe y’know

@niphredil-14 and @arthotsglasses

tw: s*icidal, violent jokes treated in a light manner

also spoilers to some things of their characters

—kenshin:

who is this,, , sassy lost child??

he first saw you prepared to throw hands with ronins who were being Elite Dickheads. ofc, armed with nothing compared to the sworded-adults, he had to interfere.

no matter how cold he treated you, masking his secret !!!-like concern, you seemed so unfazed through it. you still interacted with him like normal,,,,, why?? do you want a death wish?

and each time he threatened you with,, anything, you responded with, “the only one who gets to hurt & kill me, is ME”

...... what?

he’s convinced you’re the biggest fool of a person. and he’d be right but even so, he has a weirdly strong need to protect you as you two got closer. you’re often with sasuke, so it’s harder to avoid you.

even with all the Horrible jokes you make on a daily basis, if your passionate side with everyone having equal rights of being treated as human, for him it shows a side of you that makes you seem precious and pure and kind hearted.

and the overprotective side increases.

which is, ,, a bit problematic sometimes cause you have the tendency to target and piss off anyone in a 10 meter range by just one (1) sassy comment, along with your lack of impulse control and blurting out everything in your mind. it’s made you a lot of short enemies in the sengoku period, and kenshin would always be ready to slice them down behind you.

sasuke has to tame him down with his Masters degree in kenshin-wrangling.

at banquets, kenshin would often have you beside him. if you’re too young for sake do age for drinking exist in sengoku? probably not. it’s more of sasuke advising for him to not give you alcoholic drinks he’ll have you pouring for him or just munching away at pickled plums or food.

—shingen:

(ngl i kinda had a hard time with this since it’s erasing a big part of his overall character,,, flirting)

once he heard the news that oda had taken in somone as young as you during honno-ji,, ,,,he’s in a very “how dare that demon >>:( taking such a pure soul,....”

and when you’re taken to kasugayama as a captive, you’re,,, surprisingly very calm and whelmed. you don’t have much sign of fear or anxiety in your overall demeanor meanwhile you’re busy dissociating and spacing out to feel those

you actually don’t seem to hate your captor. but shingen isn’t sure if your ‘fingerguns’ is a good thing or not cause it depicts you pointing guns @ him,, (dw is good shingen)

while yes being held hostage—no matter how good you’re being treated—isn’t ideal and kinda not very cash money, you consider shingen v chill. man has a kindheart!! “i diagnose you with good vibes.”

if he ever sees your righteous side, as everyone else, he’ll deeply admire you. he himself is someone who believes in such as well. and hearing the circumstances in the modern world regarding those things (blm, etc.) his heart truly does go out for you. he feels sympathy for such a young person like you having to take action

also your dirty humor around him, echigo’s player, kind of makes him question where and how you learnt it

and,, his illness.

through getting straight to the point and not falling for it each time he changes subject/dodges the question, you managed to get to the bottom of his illness. shingen himself thinks it’s not something you have to burden with knowing—you’re so, so young.

but that doesn’t matter to you. the world’s given you such a shit time, you’re mature enough to understand the situation at least.

and as he finishes his explanation, all there was is silence. it felt wrong to say any of your usual quips,, so all you did was slowly came there and hugged him.

that was more than what he’d ask for.

—sasuke:

oh hell yeah

you are in your element with him. the chillest guy to talk to, and probably the first one you’re the closest to

your phone was dead after like 2 days of use, and you were miserable while hideyoshi, like a typical parent, told you to go outside and into town. sensing your bad mood, sasuke asked what’s up. you deadpanned, “my phone game ended and now i’m ready to commit not breath.” you oslemnly look out in the bustling streets and clutched your fist like an Anime Protagonist, “those boomer memes were right all along... i am absolutely Miserable and Useless(^TM) without it.”

in response, you could’ve sworn he did the Anime Glasses thing as well, “then we at team Moderately Awesome Sengoku Ninja are happy to announce the launch of a DIY phone charger, made with the electricity from a fruit and the main functionality of a solar panel. and has more durability than samsung’s.”

there were Stars in your eyes now. with a big grin, you thank him, “i’d die for you, sasuke.”

“then perish.” he said with a blank look. (yukimura, in the bg: ???!!!??!??!?)

the next day he consentually breaks in through the ceiling and gives you the weird contraption. you’re now saved, soul-wise.

the memes start coming and they don’t stop coming from the two of you. in any situation. whether it’d be at a teahouse, or at a battlefield that can determine your life and death.

and you can have discussions about current world events, or the past ones, with him and he’d understand completely what you’re talking about. it’s those rare nights when you’ve been thinking and have a deep conversation with him in his room, and as an adult, it makes for interesting results as well.

the others are endlessly confused, but you’re both so unapologetically yourselves.

and he’s super protective if the circumstances are tough. he feels bad for dragging another person in the sengoku with him—much less when they’re so young like you.

if you’re enough of a lil shit, once you’re taken into kasugayama, in the nights where you can’t sleep because brain at what would be 3 am, you’d probably trudge over to his room and wake him up to tell him what kind of mind-blowing shit you realized.

—yukimura:

when he saved you from falling to your death, your reaction already set off weird Vibes inside him. what do you mean, “you stopped me from fleeing this fleeting world by the sweet embrace of death” ?!?!?! are you crazy?? yes

he doesn’t waste time getting blunt with you at all either.

once he goes into azuchi as a merchant, he silently observes you talking to sasuke for a bit. what’s with your weird language?? and crude humor???? never in his life has he met someone in your age act like that wtf

even so, he still operates on the basis of ‘‘if sasuke trusts you, i trust you’’, no matter how utterly concerned you make him feel

you have a dirtier mind than him! unsurprisingly. along with everyone else, you often tease the poor soul, a nd you’d gladly tell him what the innuendoes mean ( 69, etc.) and maybe sprinkle in some gay jokes in there

and why do you keep mentioning this “bromance between him and sasuke” ?? what us,,, a bromance????? and why is sasuke in it??

he takes you out to teahouses to eat chestnut dumplings and other desserts with you. you always seem to target the one he doesn’t like the most and have a bit of banter

your relationship is built on banter but what’s different rlly

he treats you much more maturely than other people your age. as in, he doesn’t pull back his punches in words most of the time. you don’t seem to around him also, it looks like.

and, he’s also very protective of you. he regards you as his little sibling, as rat as you may be. and he does care about you—he might just be a bit unwilling to say it

—yoshimoto:

you think he’s very chill, if a bit unique but who were you to judge. and he is, if you ever meet him in echigo or even azuchi

his big liking to art and something of apathy to people is osmething you can respect. there’s something about that kind of Vibe that you find oddly a mood.

and oh boy oh boy you wasted no time pulling up your phone and showing images of what art is in the future. whether it’d be a screenshot of anime, fanart, aesthetic-like ones, palette-themed—the whole shabang.

and, somehow, you were left ranting to him about how some artists in the future get it so shitty for theft, reposting, not crediting, the list goes on (please be a decent human being to artist, sincerely the author) and he can’t help but just listen in silence and kind of thinking about how you’re so passionate about the Struggles of artists. and it isn’t something he sees often in the sengoku era—where war rules most things.

and he does find art from the modern times interesting, how they’re so different and vast in styles. and not only that, it’s not like the future only has one major style like then, each hand can draw such different pictures and still have beauty in each. he appreciates and admires that.

and he does tell you his thoughts ^ while you give your own insight. it’s so fascinating to see someone like you having strong opinions on this.

because, well, rn art is a big thing in our lives as we’re stuck inside. a part of entertainment is looking at any media of art—and he finds his view of art and yours quite the same. you two came from a time of turmoil (one moreso than the other) but still think art isn’t exactly irrelevant just because it isn’t a cure to diseases or the Ultimate Weapon.

you had to Surgically Remove him from your phone so you can use it and to stop him from draining your battery looking at the art

and he often drags you out to town and admire pieces when you’re holing yourself in too much. your comments are always unknown to him, “radical”, “that’s one i can vibe with ngl”, and the list goes on.

and you occasionally call him pretty boy as a compliment rlly

—kennyo:

when you first saw him at honno-ji, and he won’t forget the one (1) line you gave him, all you said to his warning of ooo spooky demons was, “that’s lit fam gtg tho”

and that alone was enough to stun him for a few seconds

honestly you told the others of your meeting with kennyo before they told you it could be kennyo. just a throaway line of “oh yeah there was this dude with a scar across his face.” / “,,, ,....that’s kennyo. he’s really dangerous actually—” / “oh, poggers”

you’re probably kind of half the reason the oda forces found who dun it.

and it was an eye for an eye, kennyo himself found out that you were their child chatelaine, and very close to the others. as per his villain-schedule, he kidnaps you .

he laments about how “such a pure soul such as yours is not to be stained by the demon’s hands”

oh how Wrong he was.

you were the definition of the opposite of pure. and you seemed unfazed, which surprised kennyo but shrugged it off. he was willing to face you screaming and panicking, along with shouldering the sin of doing the deed. but instead, he was met with a raised eyebrow and, “this is unexpected and probably not welcomed but what am i doing here.”

he was stunned for a moment before explaining what he can.

“......... fuck.”

he cringed ever so slightly at your curse. but your attention seems to stray so quickly off of the fact that you were bounded and helpless, to the fact that you have the man doing unspeakable things to civilians and you absolutely don’t approve.

throwing your common sense to maybe be civilized, you went off on a rant of how human rights and how to not be an ass to him. all he could do was just listened, shocked to even cut you off.

when he did, he gave the whole ‘unsaved demon’ shtick, and you weren’t taking that kinda shit. he believed he was truly unsaved—you knew that. but that doesn’t make it okay.

eventually, he left you with a cold end of the conversation.

he admires your spirit in a way—but with what he’s experienced,,, it’s a bit of unreachable for him.

if at any point you saw the soft side of his with animals, you just gaped at him for a split second and whispered, “the gap moe is strong with this one.”

also old man died inside when you said that you’d fight god, along with many things.

all in all, to him, you’re insufferable. but weirdly,, fascinating.

you’ve totally ok boomer’d him once cause he rlly looks old

—motonari:

,,. if your speech to kennyo was bad, he’s going to rant hell.

motonari already knew you were interesting even when his men just spied on you. your behavior, so brash and impulsive, is going to be so fun to have, he thinks.

through some planning to stir up more chaos, he kidnaps you and brings you unto his ship. same as kennyo, you showed no clear sign of surprise, and that’s when he decided you were either used to this in any way, or a fool. both answers, he liked.

you’re kind of really confused on why he’s doing what he’d doing. “i get it, i like to stir up chaos myself but it’s harmless,, most of it—but not until the people are in danger, bitch.”

and by that line, motonari leans towards you with a deadly smirk, “now, i can bite, ‘kay kid? you don’t wanna be in the receiving end... do you?”

“do it, coward.”

and before he could let out even a wheeze of laughter, you continued on on a lecture of, again, not being a dick and letting people live their life in peace. and much less all of this damage, for what? chaos?? yeah you wanted to see the world burn but it wasn’t literally.

however, his patience was running thin. he shuts you up forcefully, and leaves.

even so, after a cooldown period, he still talks to you (,,,, well, that’s kind of a generous term) because, right he was, you were so fun in his eyes.

an interesting observation he made,,, was that you picked up on his big dislike of physical contact. and he’d think with how annoying you were at times, that you’d weaponize it. but you didn’t—in fact, you kept your space (not that you were planning to get close) and respected his boundaries.

he thinks you a bit of peculiar for that decision, some wary, and perhaps naive.

one of the days—the more dangerous ones—he was planning to take you to the oda as bait or something. and you weren’t taking it like that. two days before arrival, a storm racked up. you stood upon the edge of the ship with the rest of the crew watching you like you were a madman.

“the oda won’t want me if i’m dead, would they now?”

motonari stands in his composure, guffawing, “all i need is to make sure they believe you’re alive, kid.”

a smile that showed absolutely no fear and 1000 percent spite spread in your face, “not unless i decimate my own body until all the trail left is my blood. the only one who gets to do that shit to me, is me.”

finally, a look of wavering shows in his face.

you were saved last minute,, and the rest is history.

#ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #ikesen #ikesen kenshin #ikesen shingen #ikesen sasuke #ikesen yukimura #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen kennyo #ikesen motonari #ikesen uesugi takeda #*writing #gen z mc #god i hope my Lack of Ability isn't shown in how other characters are written longer than others #and how i might've badly Fucked up their characters #i've done like.. 3 routes and that knowledge is all i have #stans pls don't @ me #pretty sure i had more i wanted to add here but #aha brain's memory go brrrrrrrr

255 notes · View notes

aclosetfan · 3 years ago

Note

You fr had all these stories just locked away?? You mean I could’ve been reading a funny zombie vampire story instead of blossom and brick centric fics? This is criminal.

😂😭 ik ik I’m sorry I’m sorry!! I honestly didn’t think anyone would actually be interested in the ideas I had!!

there’s a lot of reasons why I feel people wouldn’t be interested. For one, I’m pretty self conscious about what I write since I’m not the most skilled “author” in this fandom. But also, in my experience, if a story doesn’t have anything overtly romantic with the ppg and the rrb, it just doesn’t get any fan interaction which is really hard when your love language is words of affirmation 😭 and I know it’s super lame but this fandom’s small enough so I’m not going to waste days just for one note and feel bummed about myself, ya feel?

BUT THAT WAS THE OLD ME

I’m so glad I came up with this dumb ask game b/c I’m finally looking back at old drafts that I rejected because they didn’t fit the “fandom vibe” and going “wait this is FUNNY!! I have FUN thinking about this!” And then I had this moment literally last night where I was like ya know what, I’m not one of the big content creators in this fandom, I can’t draw for shit, and sometimes my shit flops but I don’t an H E double FUCK about it anymore

I’m just going to write what I write and if I abandon fics I’m not going to feel guilty about it ��👏 and we’ll see how long this boost of confidence lasts but I’m feeling pretty good about myself rn so thank you all for entertaining me and sending a number you’ve helped more than you know

And ALSO posiongod’s right and they should say it 👏 we as a fandom need to give brick and blossom the break they fking DESERVE. They aren’t even the best “red” couple in the canon show not when Sedusa and Ms. Bellum literally exist!!?! we could have some of the greatest enemies to lovers smut fics in the WORLD with two characters over consenting age in the canon show but nooooooo no we have 900 fics of two awkward as fuck gingers trying to bone between lunch and p.e.

It’s hate crime and I aim to fix that

#poisongod ik you didn’t ask for me to write all of that #and you probs didn’t want to read all of that #but I’m living my new truth now #asks #if you don’t think Medusa and Ms Bellum were THE original cartoon characters to have crushes on #then I feel bad for you #SEDUSA #I meant sedusa goddammit!!!

9 notes · View notes

ms-a-z-u-l · 4 years ago

Text

The Alley (Dabi x Reader)

Summary- You meet Dabi in an alley on a regular basis until he tells you that seeing each other will no longer be possible. The only question left is: why?

Categories- Angst, romance if you squint

Warnings- Only cursing

****************************************

A/N: This one was actually already here but I accidentally deleted it. Also, for some reason Tumblr is not showing my posts with the tags and I have no idea how to fix that :,) I’m still uploading in the case some day it does and for those who can see it, thank you for reading!

***************************************

“Go back, squirt”

“Why?”

With a sigh, Dabi turned around to look at you. You had barely gotten to your recent go-to place: a secluded alley, sure to keep away any lingering and curious eyes that could see you meeting with a villain nonetheless. Since the particular day you happened to be innocent bait (that’s what they thought you were) in order to rile up the new heroes, recently graduated from U.A with the respective names Shoto and Deku (they have been around the news a lot lately along with a certain explosion hero you couldn’t quite remember his name). Their plan ended up going wrong, nonetheless. As soon as the one grabbing you got distracted, you gave him in the shin as well as harsh bite to the arm and sprinted out of there.

However, you ended up stumbling into someone, and because luck was not on your side that day, it was not a hero but one of the villains at the site. You put up your decent fight and insults you could give (he particularly remembers the one regarding how he never learned how to use a stapler) and the name of “Charcoal” you gave him throughout that day.

Regardless, after the commotion ended and everyone escaped, you were let go by him in an alleyway without saying a word. It was odd. He didn’t say a word, but looking at his eyes, you could tell he might’ve wanted to say something, so out of curiosity you kept coming back to that alley in hopes he would be there.

And now here you were. You stopped counting the times you met in that place, it was a silent agreement when to meet that overtime you could just look at his eyes and know when he’ll be there. Today was different, though, today he was more serious and hadn’t thrown any half ass comment your way that made you tick. He hadn’t made eye contact and had his back toward you.

When he had finally looked at you though, you saw it. It was something seen usually in his eyes, but it was there. Resignation, but for what it was the question.

“I won’t come here anymore, so you should stop coming here too, maybe even pretend like none of this happened”

You silently stared for a moment before opening your mouth, “But why? Did something happen? Did I do something? If you’re beginning to take my picking at you seriously, I’ll stop really, no worries” you said hurriedly trying to make sense why he wouldn’t want to see you anymore. However, you stopped talking when you saw his face harden as jumbles of words came out of your mouth. “It’s not any of that, stop babbling” he sighed again and continues, “It’s no use doing this. You sneaking in here just to talk to me, I don’t see the case anymore, besides you know it’s dangerous associating with me. You’re wasting your time and I’m wasting mine coming all the way here just to indulge you in conversations that can be forgotten as soon as we both go our separate ways.” With that, he started walking away. But of course, being you we’re talking about, you wouldn’t have that half-assed information that sounded like a way to get you to go away.

“I won’t take that shitty excuse from you. You never looked like you hated it and besides, if you were just wasting your time, then you would have never come in the first place when I first looked for you here, or the next or the next and all the times you came” you started grabbing onto his sleeve, pulling him to at least look at you, show any sign he was listening. Suddenly, you flinched. You started feeling a burning in your hand, and it was getting painfully hotter. When it got unbearable in a matter of seconds, you tried to quickly pull away, but Dabi grabbed you by the wrist and faced you. He had a cold expression, as if wanting to truly frighten you and drive you away. “I don’t give a damn what you thought all of this was. Just accept I got bored and tired of doing this and entertaining you. It’s not my fault you started getting any ideas and believe this could be one of those beautiful disgusting friendships you see on shows. This is real life, doll, and it disappoints you so bad that eventually you get tired of the shit that it pulls you to.”

All you could do was stare in shock. You didn’t want to believe any words that came out of his mouth. It couldn’t be right, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, he wouldn’t have actually shown even the tiniest trace of genuine interest to what you both talked about and the mirth toward your antics. It was simply unacceptable, he was actually a part you began to look forward too. And now he himself wanted to take it away. “Then I don’t care either” you said confidently, however he misunderstood. “Good, this is easier on me now, see ya never I guess-“

“I don’t care what you said. Because i don’t believe it. Even if you say you got tired and bored, I’ll still come the next day, and the day after that one, until you really get tired of it and disappear completely. And if its about me being in danger, well if was that situation that got us to meet, so I don’t care either” you stopped talking with eyes closed, but a felt a presence. Slowly, you lifted your head and he was right there with an honestly unreadable expression.

“Um, ahh- well what I mean exactly is that I don’t believe your bullshit and I still want to stick around here and see you as weird as it may sound, don’ttakeittheotherwayplease-” among your nervous muttering and gradually fast talking, he lifted both of his hand. You didn’t flinch, to his surprise (he didn’t show it however) but rather waited for his next move. It wasn’t a harsh gesture, far from it, it was gentle. He was really cupping your cheeks and caressing the skin, his eyes finally changing, the only way to know how he felt cause he would damn himself if he said the feelings he held, whatever they may be.

“ You’re impossible.. and irritating.. and sarcastic as hell”

You huffed and rolled your eyes lightheartedly, “I got the point, as if you’re all roses and charm”

He lightly chuckled and continued, “If something happens, I only want you to remember the times we were here. Not a bloodied corse in the pavement, because let’s be honest here, this life I’m leading here only ends there, and I don’t want you getting involved in that and end up hurting you along the way, that’s why I want to stop it now, stop seeing me and getting more damn attached, is no good sticking with me-“

“But-“

“No, you listen to me, doll. You’re gonna go back home, go to sleep, and the next day when you wake up you go about your day as always and after you get out of your last class, go home and repeat, simple as that”

At this, your tears started to fall and you choked out, “No, no, I cant do that, you can’t ask me that!” You shook your head repeatedly, “Please, Dabi, don’t ask that of me, I can’t just up and leave and pretend you were never there. I know I don’t say it but I care about you”

“Doll, doll, hey look at me, common, you’re not hiding that pretty face from me are you” he said, squishing your cheeks.

“Dabii!” You exclaimed, not in the mood for any flattery.

“Ok, ok I’ll stop, but look at me” raising your head, and grabbing onto his arms, you waited for him to keep talking. “I’m not doing this it of malice as unbelievable as it may sound. I’m doing this cause, now that we’re letting it all out here, fuck it, I care about you too, and the least I want is getting you into a world that will only let you know of suffering. For the same reason that I care about you, Y/N, is why I want you to go back and have a nice life, and that means is gonna have to be without me.”

After a moment, heard you in a small voice, “But for me, a nice life means you’re in it”

As cliche as it sounded, your words actually touched Dabi. He knew it was dumb, considering what he wanted to do was to let you go, but you just so damn persistent, and he figured it might do for a proper goodbye. Witch that, he leaned down and left a single peek in your right cheek. It lingered more than he wanted to, but it was the first and last time he could feel you like that. All you could was blink out of shock. His lips were not soft like you read in books, they were rough, but somehow the fact that it was him made you care less about those ideal descriptions. Before fully pulling away, you heard him whispered, “Maybe in another life we get, doll”

................................

You couldn’t change his mind, is what you learned the next day waking up in your room. Both of you stayed siting in that alley talking for the last time until you fell asleep.

You knew you couldn’t change his mind when the next days he made good on his promise of not showing up at all.

Eventually, you did what he asked, going about the day with the exception of going to that secluded alley. You made few friends along the way who managed to distract you from time to time after lectures, hang outs at any place they stumbled upon. After an invite to a cafe, you said your goodbyes to them and started walking home. Somehow, it felt odd. You thought it was your mind, but you kept feeling a certain way. You started looking around but saw nothing. Just when you gave up and started looking down, you saw a figure in the building across form the cafe, with widened eyes, you could see it, the coat slightly flowing behind him.

With a newfound small smile, you started walking again, witch the newfound knowledge that he never really left.

“Yeah, I guess we can meet each other in another alley, you asshole”

#mha #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #mha x reader #fanfic #oneshot #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #reader #writing #boku no hero x reader

63 notes · View notes

cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years ago

Text

Riverdale should have been a Disney show

Riverdale should have been a Disney show. There I said it. I'll admit the first season was fine Great even. Self-contained with an intriguing mystery and you waited at the edge of your seat for what will happen next. But then... Part of the problem for me is because I've read the original comics since I was a girl. I still do get some from my mom, and the way they have changed the characters just bug me.Betty used to be the girl next door, always hopeful, smart, trying to figure out the mystery. And it was perfect that she was a reporter because Betty was always someone who valued honesty so her being the roving reporter was perfect. And her taking pills for anxiety or some sort of disorder was also a nice take because she does take on so much, and tries so hard to help and be good and nice and perfect. All the stress. Archie was also great in the first season. A bit horny, but he means well, and he truly is an average American boy so his big trouble of choosing between music and football. He's a klutz and sometimes his plans go sideways but he means well, he's all for family and Riverdale and school spirit. None of this whole Red Hood/semi mafia/wrestling nonsense. I actually really liked their take on Veronica, she still a bit materialistic and thinks she can depend on her wealth to get her out of trouble but I do like their take on trying to be enterneauripal and working to act less high class society girl as she was used to.

Jughead, I'm conflicted with. Because he's good I guess as a brooding, investigative journalist he's good. It fits the setting of the show. But I do have a soft spot for him as the sane man to Archie. Going about his business, surprisingly philosophical. And you can't forget the most important attribute to him. His love of food! I miss that. Like the one scene in season 1, I forget what exactly but basically he ordered burgers and when Cole Sprouse just protectively held the burger to him...such a nice touch. That sort of guy I can see as a DCOM. The genius ditz I guess it's called. But he's not dumb. He just prefers napping to being awake.

Now the others...omg.I have a bone to pick when it comes to the other characters in Riverdale. Josie and the Pussycats-- they are such lively musicians who solve crimes, sometimes in space. ABsolutely wasted here. Melody barely had any lines. And they didn't have Alex or Alexandra Cabot which was such a shame. I know, I know they're in the new Katy Keene show but having them be step-siblings who used to date is wrong and weird and bad and no! Stop having the twins in these shows with vaguly incesteous feelings. It's weird!

Kevin Keller, all his storylines revolve around his bfs or lack of bfs or how much he wants a bf. The Kevin of Archie comics was so much more well-rounded. He was head of ROTC, he was class president, he ran marathons, he was Veronica's bff, he was a reporter. He had an appetite to match Jughead's. He even had a brief crush on Jughead! He was so much better than this sham. He was confident in who he was and did his best to help others feel good about themselves too because he knows not everyone is lucky to come out as LGTBQ in a supportive environment.

Reggie. I think not giving him enough of an arc in season 1 really backfired because if he appears, it's only as Veronica's arm candy. Which is a shame because he is a good contrast to Archie. A bit richer yet a cheapskate. Thinks he's a casanova, loves being the class prankster. A modern day politician with his sweet words when all he cares about himself. Basically like

Yet he has his hidden depths with his neglectful workaholic parents and jealousy of Archie's popularity. Cheryl. Omg Cheryl. They have ruined you here. I'm sorry, I do NOT find any of her lines iconic. It's like she swallowed urban dictionary and a gothic novel and came out all jumbled in a google translate. She may be abused but the way she still treats others like shit and gaslights her gf and makes everything about her is just...ugh!!! OMg, comics Cheryl is actually fun and iconic. She's as rich and pretty as Veronica and unafraid to use it. She wants to be a star like a modern day influencer. She's a red-haired Sharpay Evans basically.

Also Jason, her twin whom they sadly killed off. He was also fun like a meaner, snobbier version of Reggie. But with a huge crush on Betty which I think could have been used to milk such drama.

Polly also got hit badly. She was a good older sister. She was a reporter, and inspired Betty's enviormental-feminist activities. A sane person. Not a cult worshipping cuckoo. Toni Topaz, ah she was so good in season 2 and then they made her Cheryl's arm candy. Alas. I liked her as a friend to Jughead. In the comics, she was his equal in food contests. That's no small feat. She was cool, and joined Betty's band and... she was her own person. Remember when Toni used to be a photographer for the South Side paper. Yeah. Basically Toni as a 3d character with personality. Please return.

Dilton. Oh Dilton. Once the smartest person in the Archie universe and they turned you into a survival freak to get killed by the gargoyle king. Or whomever. I just remember he got killed somehow. Honestly, they should have stuck to smart Dilton. They need a smart scientist there, cuz no one is using their brains in Riverdale.

Chuck. They have done you SUCH A DISSERVICE! So so bad. Chuck was a good person! He was a cartoonist, and a basketball player and Archie's friend. (Yeah, that's right Archie has friends in the comics. Even though Riverdale makes some effort to show Archie and Jug's bond, they're mainly consorting with their gfs. In the comics, they had guy nights. Reggie, Chuck, Kevin, Dilton, Moose. Come on show. Friendships are just as important.) And what did they do, make him a lying scumbag, turn him good and then have him arrested because of what Cheryl did! No, no no. Bad writers. Just no. Ethel Muggs. You have also been wronged in season 3. Making her a crazy freak. Ethel in season 1 was nice. Ethel in the comics is nice. Plain but with a good heart even though she had a slightly obsessive crush on Jughead. Here, making her cult worshipper.... smdh. Okay at this point I know I sound like a bitter, bitter person complaining how it'S nOt liKE tHe cOmICs. But hey, I admit season 1 was good even if they changed the characters a bit. It’s just that I watched Riverdale because of the property it derived from. Because of the comics. At the least I expected some faithfulness to the characters. Not make them all so inconsistent and crazy.

It's just the writing is so inconsistent! The plots hop around and so do their moods. Bughead and Choni broke up for one episode and then they got right back together. Even though they had VALID reasons to break up. Nope. That made fans mad. So they had to get back together. Ugh. And Archie got attacked by a bear and was so traumatized that he broke up with Veronica because "he's changed" for like two episodes before forgetting about it and going back to Veronica. Oh which brings me to the ridiculous "love triangle" of Archie/Reggie/Veronica where she couldn't choose. Please, Archie and Veronica were reuniting and planning to go run away for a weekend together. Reggie was completely forgotten until he walked in on them. And Veronica couldn't decide because she loves them both? No, she didn't. She may have felt bad to tell Reggie but it's not because she loved him. Forgetting a guy so quickly...yeah great proof of love. Horniness maybe. But her indecisiveness makes her look bad. Don’t tease a will they, won’t they when the answer is so obvious. If you're going to do something like that, you should have there be something called CONSEQUENCES! They can get back together but at least wait. Wait 8 episodes at least so they can have character development. But who am I kidding. Character development is not the goal of this show. The character's just move because the writer's want them too not because it fits their personalities. Such as Archie's grieved reaction for baby Teeth in season 3.

Not only do I have no idea when (the ridiculously named) Baby Teeth appeared, much less why Archie or I should care about his death. But sometimes the show juggles too much. Too many characters. Too many plots. It's all so ugh!!! So my final thought on this is... Riverdale should have been a disney channel sitcom. Archie comics are about family friendly entertainment and sometimes imparted lessons... well so does Disney. I get the appeal of having Riverdale reach a new teen generation, but from what I can see the only big thing Riverdale on CW is that it allows alcohol and gartituous sex scenes.

Which is another small gripe of mine. I can handle sex scenes (hello Magic Mike XXL) but so many at such inappropriate moments too It's like that scene in an action movie where they suddenly kiss when they should be running for their lives. No teen is that horny all the time. Plus there's always less is more. If one kisses so much it loses the meaning. If you think your shirtless Archie is going to distract me from lack of plot haha. No. Plot and consistency still sucks and shirtless Archie does not make it better.

But Riverdale as a Disney show can work. After all the comic stories are a bit formulaic. It's all high school hijinks. And all the characters fit an archetype. Archie, the protagonist. Veronica, the fashionista. Betty, the reporter. Jughead, the slacker. Reggie, the class clown/bad friend. Cheryl, the Sharpay, Kevin, the sane one. And if people want a season long story arc with dramatics, Disney can actually handle it too. After all they had the mysterious "threat' lurking in the background of My babysitter's a vampire season 2. Or the Juliet and Mason saga of Wizards of Waverly Place. And if people want adult situations, look on to Jessie. Rewatching an episode now, there were so many adult jokes and references that flew over my head so they could sneak those in. Heck, Disney channel is infamous for all the innuendos they manage. And they handle consistency. Cody and Bailey broke up in Suite life on deck, they actually stayed broken up for a good half season. Gabe matured from a prankster tween to teen in love in Good Luck Charlie. Actions have consequences, characters grow. Storytelling 101

And the best part is they don't even have to think too hard for the plots of the week. They literally can build on stories from the comics. All 80 years of it. And I have put some examples right here from my own Archie comics. Like Veronica literally being the fashion police.