#yes this is based off of me flinching every time i open a door bc of static | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alrightberries · 4 years ago

Text

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst. ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands.

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it.

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless.

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice.

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand.

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses.

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations.

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.”

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in.

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for.

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed.

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity.

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head.

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.”

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes.

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?”

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more.

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.”

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant.

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home.

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

#the bit where levi visits oc #is my favorite part to write #and the lil banter at the start too #i love banter but i also love sweet little words #this is proof that i can be romantic without calling someone a dumbass #writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi imagine #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk imagine #shingeki no kyojin imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan imagine #aot imagine

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yandere-dark-cupid · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re requests are open can I get a Yandere Zuko x fem reader where after the war he looks for his darling by making his guards track her down but without anyone knowing bc he doesn’t want ppl to think that he’s back into his old ways again and keeps her in the palace

Ok Angel 💜👌💜. If you want, I could continue this as a mini part to part scenario series if I have the time T.Angel. There is just so many ideas worming around this concept and just think of the crazy things the darling and Zuko is going to go through, while also keeping both of their identities on the veeery low-key. Just let me know Angel 😊☕💜.

Also everyone is going to be aged up to 18+ Btw.

Side note: For the sake of this scenario, the darling will be from the Southern Water tribe. If this Angel decides to let me continue this as a mini scenario series, then the both of us are going to talk about if the darling can be a Waterbender or not.

Warning ⚠!!!: Their is going to be some slight Nsfw in this.

Yandere Zuko: A Dragon's treasure

Five weeks. It has been five weeks since you've went missing. Once the war has ended, Zuko was planning to propose to you. But every since his coronation of being crowned the new FireLord, you just up and vanished. It was like you were never there in the first place. And Zuko has been scattering everywhere in the palace and Fire nation to find you or some type of clue. But nothing. There was nothing there. You really covered your tracks, didn't you?

Right now Zuko was in his thrown room. He was fuming- No steaming with rage. If anyone were to walk in to the room, they'll notice it was boiling in there. He tried to look everywhere in the palace. Even outside the palace. But to no avail. Zuko couldn't find you. You've made it clear that you don't want to be with him or any where near him with this type of stunt you've pulled.

Zuko took a seat on his thrown. His hands was on his head, just about ready to pull his hair out and shout in frustration. But then a knock on the door stop him. " *Frustrated sigh* State your name and your business." Zuko said with spite and a hint of venom in his voice. The person behind the door flinched at his tone of voice. "It's me Sir. The guard you put in charge of the search party for Ms.Y/N". Zuko perked up at the mention of his missing lover's name. " Come in. " said Zuko. With out a second thought, the guard entered the room. She bowed down in respect for her FireLord.

" FireLord Zuko I have an update about Ms.Y/N's whereabouts. " Said the guard. She almost stuttered. The guard noticed how extremely hot it was in the thrown room. It was a clear sign that FireLord Zuko was pissed out of his mind. " Well, " Zuko said in annoyance and anger. Zuko was beyond angry at this point. He was a whole entire cluster fuck of emotions right now. " M-me and m-my crew found some people who could be connected to Ms.Y/N's disappearance , your majesty. " Stuttered the guard in slight fear. Zuko quirked up an eyebrow at what the guard said.

Ah. So the guard managed to find the ones responsible for his darling's vanishment, or at least had some part in it. " Bring them in. " Zuko said. The guard only merely nodded, not wanting to meet the FireLord's intimidating gaze. The guard got off their knees and went to call the other guards, to bring out the people that played some part of the darling going missing. The other guards quickly brought out four other people. Those people was tied up, bounded, and blind folded. The people was visibly quivering in fear. They were very confused and scared on what they did to upset the FireLord.

The four guards forcefully pushed the four people down to the floor. Each guard took off each person's blind fold. In front of the four people, there sat the FireLord in all his glory. FireLord Zuko glared down at the 4 people in a burning gaze. So these disgusting pathetic excuses of human was responsible for his darling going missing. Zuko scoffed at the thought. After a painful intimidating stare down, Zuko finally spoke. " So your the ones held responsible for Y/N's disappearance. " Zuko spat out to them with his voice dipped in poison.

" I-if y-you're talking about a someone that has (h/c), (e/c), and (s/c) then t-they came to m-my store to buy clothes." The woman stuttered in fear. Zuko stayed quite and only listened. " If you're talking about the same person; they came to my food stand and brought some food. " the old man said quickly in fear of what the FireLord would do to him if he took so long to explain himself. Zuko only merely quirks his eyebrow. " Y-yeah, that same person came to my Shop and bought some bags and extra equipment as his they were going on a trip. " The man said while sweating nervously. " The same person came to shack a-and brought some w-weapons. " Said the short lady in fear. Zuko only hmmed at what they said.

" So you're telling me the lady you just described went to all of your stores and shops to buy something. " Zuko said still glaring down the four people. " Y-yes. " the woman squeaked in fear. The old man only nodded quickly. " Mhm. " both the man and woman said. Zuko got up from his thrown and began to walk down to his stand. " What should we do with them you highness? " Said one of the guards. " Bring them to the dungeon. I will decide what to do with them later. " Said Zuko. " I-I don't understand what did we do wrong. " Stuttered the woman in fear and nervousness. Zuko quickly turned to the woman, the woman quickly shuts her mouth. Zuko then begins to slowly walk towards her.

Zuko shot one of his hands out and grasps the woman's face in a painful grip. The woman squeaks in surprise and fear. Zuko just merely just glares down at her. His eyes is filled with a flaming rage. " You all are held responsible for the disappearance of Y/N, " Zuko spat out in anger. Zuko releases his hand from woman's face. Zuko steps away from the woman and is now in front of the four bounded people. " Since you all play a part in my- err Y/N's disappearance, you all will be punished accordingly. " The four people only shook even more at FireLord Zuko's statement. " All of you take them away were they'll never see the light of day again. " Zuko said with venom dripping from his voice.

The four guards only bowed and said a quick " yes sir ". With that they took the four people away. Now Zuko was once again left in his thrown room...... alone.

Zuko let out a sigh of frustration out. He walked towards a window that was in the room. He stared down at his people, he was thinking about something. Based on what the four people said, Zuko can conclude that his darling is no longer in the Fire nation. Zuko dug into his pocket and took out something. It was a necklace. A betrothed necklace to be more specific. You see his darling was not from the fire nation, no no no. You were from a Water tribe, the Southern Water tribe to put it. While Zuko was on his trip to help Aang defeat his father and help him master firebending, Zuko found out from Katara on what her necklace means. He found out that from the Water tribe in order to marry someone, you have to make a betrothed necklace and give it to that special someone. When Zuko found out about this type of information, he instantly got rapped up about it. Ever since he's joined team Avatar he was thinking about what life would be like when he becomes FireLord, then his thoughts were drawn into marriage. He can't help but think, his darling would make the perfect FireLady. His FireLady.

And they'll have children. They'll be lovely children. With his darling swelled up with another one of his heirs all while holding another one of their children. It'll truly be a.. delicious sight to see ~ Zuko hmmed in delight at the thought of his darling bearing his children. But... that's if he witness such a darling sight. Zuko groaned at his mood being dampened and soured. But he knows it's true. Zuko knows if he doesn't act fast, he'll lose his darling. And that lovely little scene that played in his mind, will be nothing but a mere fantasy. Besides, he doesn't want to get himself accidentally sexual frustrated.....

With that aside, Zuko begins to start planning and strategizing. Zuko walks away from the window. He calls a servant, he orders them to get one of his best generals. The servant was slightly hesitant and confused, but never the less terrified. Wasn't the war over? They pushed their question aside, because they know now wouldn't be the best time to question the FireLord. He hasn't been acting himself lately and has been been flaring up at anything these past few weeks. With out much of a second thought, they did as they were told and went to see if someone could get one of the generals FireLord Zuko was talking about.

Zuko on the other hand, went back to sit on his thrown. He knew it will take time for the general to get here, so he decided to sit and be patient for him to get here. All while doing this, Zuko began to plan out in his mind on how he was going to get his darling. He was thinking about getting some of the Fire nation's best spies to help track down his darling. Sending out a whole search team and alerting the public while cause some type of panic. Not only that but he's trying to show that He and the Fire nation has turned over a new leaf, that and he doesn't want people and the other members of team Avatar know he's basically going back to his old ways. Since everybody knows the history on how he went to the ends of the earth to find and Capture the Avatar, and he's basically doing the same for his darling. It'll put a bad name on him and an even worse name on the Fire nation. So he'll lay as low as possible and keep shush shush about it, so he doesn't rise suspicion and ruin all the hard work he's been putting in the past time he's became FireLord.

With all those thoughts in mind, Zuko decides to call the same servant from before. So he can see if his message has been delivered. The Servant said they already sent a messaging hawk out to see if they can reach the general. Zuko only hmmed and dismissed them, and told them to report back to him once the massage has been delivered. With that the servant left, leaving Zuko in his thrown room. Zuko dug into his pocket again. He took out the Betrothed necklace out. He gently creased and rubbed the engraving and creases. He took so many hours and very much effort into making this for his darling. Looking at it always made him feel calmer, it made him happy knowing that his darling will be wearing it soon. But then his darling ran away from him before he can give it to them. Zuko pushed down on the purple garnet at the thought of his darling running away from him ( the rest of the necklace's gems are made up of smaller bits of Rudy and sapphire ). Zuko let out another sigh of frustration. He began to think. Once is darling is back with him he's never letting them go...........

My God, this was a boom ass idea. Not only that, but an idea of Zuko having a bit of a breeding kink has been floating around in my mind for some time now. I had a lot of fun with this. Like I said before T.Angel, If you want me to make a mini scenarios series about this let me know 😆! Well I hope you enjoy it. Until next time my Little Tainted Angels, see you soon ~💜❤💜

#yandere avatar the last airbender #yandere #yandere Zuko #avatar: the last airbender

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

coming out to them as bisexual 🏳️‍🌈 pt 2

part one | navi | taglist

thanks to anon for this cute request

characters: yaku, tendō & atsumu

trigger warning: swearing, coming out, mentions of drug dealing,

morisuke yaku

♡ he gives off bi mom friend energy

♡ but i don’t think he cares about his sexual orientation too much or gives it any thought - he knows he loves you and that’s enough

♡ hence he probably identifies at straight

♡ which means he is the straight mom friend

♡ he’s still a mom friend either way though so ofc he noticed when you started getting all fidgety, nervous and defensive around him - like you were trying to hide something

♡ which you were; as recently you were reminded of the fact you were going to have to come out to your boyfriend eventually or else he might find out on his own

♡ so every time you entered a conversation with him, you started it with the intention of coming out to him but every single time you got nervous and chickened out

♡ yaku didn’t know this though so he was automatically under the assumption you were doing something shady behind his back

♡ however, he trusted you enough to know that you weren’t the sort of person to do stuff like that; but either way, he had to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering you so much

♡ but when you tell him that it’s bc you are bi, he supports you completely 💖💖

♡ probably gets you a little wristband with the bi flag on it to apologise for his accusatory behaviour

♡ *cue discussion*

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“you’re probably wondering why we are all gathered here today.” yaku said, his eyes flickering between the chairs, which were all placed in a circle, each one being occupied by a plushie of yours.

you sat directly across from him, slumped back in your chair and trying to stifle a snicker at him talking to your plushies as if they could listen. “yaku, why are we here?”

he wasted no time in pulling rilakkuma off it’s chair and hurling it directly at your head, “why have you been acting so shady and suspicious around me recently?!”

although it was only a plush toy, the force behind yaku’s throw was enough to almost result in you falling off your chair. even though he didn’t seem in the best of moods, you figured now was a better time than ever to come out to him as it meant you wouldn’t have to lie further and risk potentially getting yourself in more trouble - plus, pompompurin was here and he’d accept you even if yaku didn’t.

“i- i was just nervous about coming out.” you eventually choked out, your gaze dropping to the ground to avoid having to look yaku in the eye.

yaku felt a tinge on guilt shoot through his body before he spluttered, “oh, that’s cool, then. congratulations!” he shot you a smile accompanied by a thumbs-up before swiftly getting up from his seat and walking round the circle to gather the plushies, “what are you coming out as, if you don’t mind me asking?”

your eyes widened at how quickly his demeanour changed, “uh- bi.” you stuttered, hesitantly getting up from your chair to join him in clearing up. “it’s fine, yaku. i guess i was acting kinda dodgy - i was all out of nerves though! i promise i’m not part of some huge, underground drug deal.”

yaku simply smiled, kissing the nape of your neck as he passed by you to stack the chairs, “that makes one of us.”

“what-”

satori tendō

♡ in regards to his sexuality- i have no idea- maybe pan? maybe straight? maybe ace? who knows

♡ i don’t think he himself even knows what sexuality he is

♡ like i can imagine him replying ‘yes’ when someone asks him what his sexual orientation is

♡ though he definitely supports the lgbtq+ community i mean look at him, does he look homophobic to you? /j

♡ probably gets bisexual, bisulfite & bicycle mixed up sometimes

♡ ‘heh, what? you’re bisectional?’

♡ srsly he would not care

♡ unless you cry, then he knows it is serious

♡ but besides that, he doesn’t understand the pressure and anxiety associated with coming out so when you he’s just like ‘good for you. wanna go harass some seagulls now?’

♡ anyway, he realises that coming out is pretty big deal, he’ll be so chuffed that you decided to tell him

♡ he’s so cute 🥺 and he’ll make you a cake with the bi colors on it! to both congratulate you and apologise for being so indifferent the first time

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you sighed, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly until you heard three consecutive knocks at your door followed by a muffled ‘(y/n)!’, so you immediately knew it was tendō as he is the only person who knocks instead of ringing the doorbell.

your lips instinctively curled into a smile as this’d be the first time you’ve talked to tendō since you came out to as bi around a week ago, to which he replied, “okay. anyway, back to what i was saying about avatar..”

though it wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you couldn’t really find a reason to complain. i mean, an ‘okay’ wasn’t him dismissing your sexuality or saying he hated you for it, hence you’d feel bad if you were to moan about it.

you swung the door open and were about to instinctively throw yourself into his arms but you stopped in your tracks when he flinched, and that’s when you noticed the gift he held in his hands; a beautiful cylindrical layer cake with a smooth ombré icing fade of pink, to purple to blue - the bisexual flag colors.

without even greeting you, tendō immediately began his apology and trying to shove the cake into your arms, “sorry about last week. i felt really bad so i made you this cake! i know i’m late but congratulations, (y/n). love you~”

atsumu miya

♡ he has ragin bisexual energy but let’s not talk about that-

♡ he’s straight guys 🙄

♡ yeah let’s just say that

♡ anyway, he’s super duper nervous and surprised when you could out to him but he tries to be cool about it

♡ like he seriously doesn’t know how to act

♡ HE DOESN’T LET ANYONE BE MEAN TO YOU ABOUT IT THOUGH

♡ he will literally put anyone in a casket real quick if they even look at you the wrong way after you come out

♡ flashback to that one time suna made a threesome joke after you told him you were bi and atsumu spat on him

♡ he probably talks to you about hot girls now

♡ HE THINKS THAT YOU ARE OKAY WITH HIM STALKING HOT GIRLS’ INSTAGRAM PAGES AS LONG AS HE SENDS YOU A LINK TO THEIR ACC ONCE HE’S DONE

♡ and you are 🥰

♡ and he does it so often too like everytime you get a notif from him there is a 90% chance it’s a link to a hot girls’ instagram

♡ (or a catgirl)

♡ and please respond with something like ‘you feed me so well tsumu🙏’ or else he won’t feel like his efforts are apricated

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you peered over atsumu’s shoulder as he shamelessly admired the admired pretty ladies on his instagram explore page while sitting right beside you - his sweet girlfriend who he believed to be straight. well, not for long, though.

you couldn’t help but smile, playfully flicking the base of his neck before muttering, “she’s hot.”

atsumu replied without hesitation, “I know right.” then swiped the instagram tab away, turning to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, “not as hot as you though.”

jeez. you thought you could indirectly come out to him by complimenting that lady but it was as if he simply refused to pick up on the hints you were constantly dropping. “i’m bi, atsumu.” you blurted out, along with a swift roll of your eyes.

his eyes winded instantly - most at the fact you just called him by his whole first name rather than ‘babe’ or ‘bitch’ like you usually do. but eventually he processed the first thing you said and to say his was shocked would be an understatement.

his heart was going 100 miles an hour while he sat frozen, staring at you like a fool while you sat there, looking at him expectantly. he had so much he wanted to say; so much he needed to tell you but the words got caught in his throat and he was afraid of coming off nosey or fake. he genuinely wanted to tell you how much he supported and loved you but of course, what really came out was, “that’s a vibe.”

#atsumu x you #atsumu fluff #tendou fluff #tendou x you #yaku x you #yaku fluff #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #atsumu x female reader #atsumu headcanons #tendou satori #tendou imagine #tendou x y/n #tendou x reader #tendou hcs #yaku x y/n #yaku x reader #👾fluff

150 notes · View notes

heyitsyn · 4 years ago

Text

Prove Me Wrong

M!Reader x Oikawa

a/n: SDKLFJSLDKFJDLSKF OKAY I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED BUT I REALLY INVESTED MY TIME INTO RESEARCHING AND READING FANFICS WITH AN M!READER BC I REALLY DIDNT WANNA GET IT WRONG SO I APOLOGIZE IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG AND I HOPE THIS ANON LIKES IT!!!

anon:

-heres an interesting thought. what about flamboyant oikawa with a cold boyfriend😳😳

YEYYY I FINALLY UPDATED

LETS GET STARTED SHALL WE?

okayokayokay

so in the request above

this is a m!reader

meaning you will be male in this one so hehe yep the story starts now

you are,,,

distant

and cold

but its mainly just because you were,,,

too tired to actually put in the effort of socializing

between bouncing between part-time jobs to care for your siblings and to schoolwork and book club

the mans can only do so much

so you spend most of your time in school just trying to catch up on sleep bc youre too busy studying up all night for exams since yanno

✨gRaDuaATiOn✨

unfortunately for you, your class had the famous manwhore oikawa tooru

why is that a bad thing?

well, imagine just trying to get some shut eye and suddenly, you just hear a bunch of screaming girls and it gets louder the closer the guy approaches your classroom and when he opens it,

the screams become 10x bass boosted

then imagine that with your sensitive hearing

now,,

it does bother you but it wouldnt bother you as much if he told them to leave

BUT NOOOOOO

he decides to let them in and chat with them and flatter them and continue with that bs until the bell rings

even then,

the girls in your class cant help but keep giggling at him and he always whispers in that obnoxious voice and youre just like two seconds away from ripping his tongue out

now

you dont hate him

you just genuinely dislike his way of living

and the way he talks

and the way he acts

yea see?

no hate

theres a difference

then there was that one time that you got so fed up with it that when oikawa settled on his seat and the fangirls circled him like some cult

they started talking to him all at once trying to get his attention

so it was a garbled mess of sounds and you growled, burying your face deeper in your arms because you would snap really really soon

then one girl shrieked when oikawa smiled at her and then you really just let go of all bearings

your chair made a squeak as you shot up, palms slamming against the wooden desk and your eyes glaring straight at them

‘go back to the farm, ya squealing pigs’

DSKFJLSDFKJSDFKDJS SORRY I LOVE TSUMU

this made everyone silent-even the others in the class just minding their own business

they all knew you as the quiet kid who didnt really talk much but those who did were really scared at you and the way you talked to them with such a cold and monotonous voice that they started spreading rumors about you

even absurd ones like your eyes are so cold bc youve killed so many people that you have no life and empathy left

LIKE WHAT THE HECK YOU STRUGGLED TO GET A SPIDER OUT OF YOUR SISTERS ROOM THE OTHER DAY LIKE EXCUSE YOU

but apparently they were just,,, so scared of you that when you finally got done with them and bursted out, the girls started crying

YALL KNOW THE SAYING LIKE HELL HAS STARTED WHEN THE QUIET KID SNAPS

the females run out of the room scared and the others nervously looks at you

your eyes sweeped through the room and each one of them flinched when you made eye contact with them

YES ASSERT OUR DOMINANCE M/N

the only who didnt was oikawa tooru himself

your eyes landed on him and he still had that stupid smug look on his stupidly gorgeous face and you wanted to ki-WAIT NO SLAP it off of him

‘the hell you looking at?’

you grumbled at him and he just merely shook his head with a smile

‘you remind me a chihuahua, m/n-chan. so cute when its angry’

‘HAH?!’

now it isnt a surprise to hear oikawa tooru say that to a boy bc wowza the school loves him so much that hes a bi icon in seijoh and hes such a king like who cares?

but they were surprised to see you turn red, the tips of your ears to the base of your neck were all flushed

‘see? so cute, right, everyone?’

KSDFJLSDKJFS

THE NERVE OF THIS MAN

the class didnt say anything except just put their heads down bc as much as they wanted to agree with oikawa at how suddenly hot you looked, they were too scared that you might plummet their faces to the ground

maybe thats when everyone started noticing you more

again, you were very quiet, you didnt talk much, you just sat there and listened so obviously you didnt really stand out but then that outburst made you more noticeable

you started seeing girls in your class staring at you then blush and look away abashedly

then the guys in your class started greeting you, even people in the hallways

ngl the attention you suddenly got was overwhelming

especially when oikawa seemed to call out to you all the time now

as you were walking down the stairs, hed see you and he’d shout and wave to you

‘m/n-chan! hiii!!!!’

his loud voice would make everyone turn and look at you and you dont do well with public attention so you turn red and you glare at him

‘shut the hell up, idiot. and dont call me by my first name. we’re not friends’

you turned to walk in the classroom but you looked at him again after taking a few steps

there he was

smiling and giggling with those girls

all he does is smile and giggle and shit

its so damn fake that you cant believe everyone fell for it and the worst thing is oikawa’s doing it to get everyone’s acceptance and validication

it was pathetic and disgusting

poor oikawa :(

now on to baby flatttykawa side,

he was kinda hurt by that

like how the heck are you not friends when youve been going to high school for 3 years?

sure, its only been casual greetings and him waving at you when yall made eye contact

but its still something, right?

right?

when you walked back into the classroom, tooru cant help but feel down at the declaration of the lack of friendship you had

his form slouched and his eyes trailed down but the voice of some girl brought him back to where he was and to fix his attitude

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

the others muttered in concern with her but they were eased when he raised a peace sign with the signature smile

‘yep! all good!’

GOD I REALLY CANT STAND IT WHEN HE USES A FACADE TO EVERYONE BUT LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BC HES SUCH A STRONG CHARACTER THAT DOESNT BREAK AND HES SO INSECURE AND IT PAINS ME SO MUCH THAT HE FEELS THE NEED TO HIDE BEHIND A MASK EVERYDAY AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

truth be told,

oikawa has always noticed you

not only do you work at the one bakery with his milk bread but you also work at the convenience store that the team sometimes visits

then he also noticed you picking up your brother from the volleyball practice that takeru’s part of and he cant help but frown at the eyebags under your eyes that he always sees

he lies awake at night just thinking how you would look without those eyebags, without the sickly looking complexion, or even just the lack of life in your eyes

then during class, you sat by the window

tooru knows this bc his eyes always fixes itself on you whenever he opens that door and he has to hold in the need to hug you when he sees you sleeping on your desk

others might call you lazy

others might call you a video game all nighter kid

but they dont notice the things you do

the nervous habits hes seen from you at the times that tooru couldnt help but stare

he knew it was creepy to do it

but you were so silent

you blended yourself into the background and you made sure to stay there

thats why nobody knows anything about you

with good looks like yours and a smart brain (he knew this from mattsun and makki being your students), why exactly were you not known?

maybe thats why it drew you to him

all his life he chased,

but now hes the one chasing?

tooru knows that your left eyebrow lifts when sensei writes something you dont understands

tooru knows that you like to do sudoku in the convenience store while you worked

tooru knows you eat the same meal during lunch every day from the same lunchbox

and he also knows that your brother talks so highly about you from takeru

the little things your brother brags about like your ability to cook f/f or your weird ability to just assemble something without looking at the instruction manual

he notices and knows all these things about you

things that people never really even bothered to

oikawa didnt even know he liked you until iwaizumi pointed it out during lunch

the third years liked to go and eat at the rooftop where it was nice and windy

oikawa was sitting and leaned against the tall wire fence, his eyes fixated on you down below on the bench as you ate your lunch

then you accidentally loosened the chopsticks causing your food to slip off

that made oikawa giggle

he was chuckling and giggling that the others noticed him when he suddenly went quiet

‘oi, oikawa’

makki nudged him back to them and tooru flinched before smiling at them

‘hm? so you do notice me!’

iwa glared

‘idiot. of course we do. youre laughing over there like some damn schoolgirl. did one of your fangirls posses you or something? if not, cut it out. its ugly’

oikawa shot him an offended look

‘what?! iwa-chan so mean!’

mattsun took the liberty to peer over the edge to see what he was looking at and smirked

‘eh? were you looking at l/n-sensei?’

oikawa blushed, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad

‘and what about it? im looking at you too, right now, mattsun!’

makki cackled at oikawa’s poor attempt of reasoning

‘i mean, i dont blame you. if issei wasnt here, id definitely get with him’

SEDKLFJSDLFISDKFJ MATTSUHANA YALL :”)

oikawa’s eyes wandered back down to you and he noticed you put the bento box to the side before sneezing

‘gosh, even his sneeze is cute’

he mumbled then jolted when he heard his own words

iwa sighed

‘what are we going to do with you, shittykawa?’

‘what?! what did i do?!’

iwa’s eyes scrunched and he scrutinized his best friend

‘boke. i feel bad for that kid, doesnt know this stupid idiot likes him’

so thats how oikawa came to terms of it

he thought he was just interested and fascinated with you but he really does like you

and to be honest, he doesnt really want you to know that bc duh, you dont like him so why bother?

baby oiks doesnt interact with you much anymore bc he knows you get uncomfy with attention but he still does look out for you and decides he should just admire from afar

he will live every day just holding his feelings in for you and one day they will disappear

but today just wasnt the day

maybe today was the start of the worst yet the best part of your life

last night was particularly rough as the convenience store you worked in had a drunk person who wanted to fight with you and your manager had to call the police and it was just a mess

to add on to it, midterms were around the corner-like next week- so you were studying up for that

but your sister got sick so you were also trying to take care of her and making sure her fever was going down and her crying ever few hours about her tummy ache didnt allow you to sleep

hehehe single parent working late tingz

ALSO SHE DOESNT HAVE MISS RONA JFC

so yep haha you did NOT get any sleep

so you walked into school that morning, looking tired as hell and mad as hell but you just wanted to sleep bro

the one kid you tutor, matsukawa issei, and his friend who usually tags along, hanamaki takahiro, noticed you dazedly pass them in the hallway and poor dudes felt bad for you

mattsun actually pays you to tutor him bc he knows you need the money while taka preferred to buy you snacks and drinks as compensation

so it was normal that he had an energy drink in his bag that he was going to give you tomorrow during your tutoring day

‘oi! l/n!’

your head perked up at the call of your name and you nodded in greeting at the light brown haired boy

‘hey’

you muttered and mattsun placed his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright

‘oi, l/n, you sure you want to be here? you can go home and we can tell them youre sick or some-’

but you waved your hand

‘nonono todays an important lecture so i cant miss it’

the two guys didnt look convinced but they respected your need to be in school since they too need to be in class for midterms

‘here. at least take this’

makki placed a drink on your hand and you nodded and gave them a small smile

‘thanks’

you mumbled before wandering off

once they saw you at a distance away, makki wrapped an arm around issei to get his attention

‘ya think we should tell oikawa to keep an eye on him? make sure he doesnt keel over and die or somethin?’

mattsun stopped before nodding

‘yea thats a good idea’

SKLFJLSDKJFD NOT MATTSUHANA BEING YOUR PARENTS

oikawa was already in class when you walked in and he cant help but tear his eyes away from the girls to you as you sluggishly walked to your seat

the drop of your bag and the thud of your head meeting the desk made him worried bc you looked worse than usual

his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a message from mattsun

‘keep an eye out for your boyfriend. mightve been working late last night and yanno how he is. just watch out if he faints or something’

okay that made him super worried

totally ignoring what mattsun called you, oikawa knew he needed to talk to you

but these fangirls were the first problem

he shut his phone off and looked up at them with a grin that made them madly blush

‘ladies, class is about to start. oikawa-senpai would hate for you to be marked. so study hard for me, okay?’

like hypnotized cult members, the girls ran to their classrooms and tooru finally had the opportunity to talk to you

he stood up and walked over to your seat

‘m/n-chan’

he called out, looking down at you

‘m/n-chan’

he tried again and was about to put a hand on your shoulder when your hand snatched it

‘dont touch me, oikawa’

you grumbled and tooru furrowed his eyebrows

‘m/n-chan, i just wanted to ask if youre okay’

he whined and you didnt bother to look up but just let go of his hand

‘i was until you came over, idiot’

ouch

tooru was thankful that the teacher came in then and there bc he didnt know how to respond to that

he wanted to brush it off but it hurt him a little

and he knows he shouldnt entertain his crush on you but he couldnt looking at you and watching as you got up to use the bathroom

as class went on, oikawa was starting to worry

now again, hes no stalker bc his observation skills were just phenomenal due to volleyball

so he noticed that youve been in the bathroom for like 20 minutes now

DONT JUDGE US, OIKAWA. WE’RE JUST TRYING TO PUSH OUT THE BIG PIECE OF-

okay nevermind

anyways

tooru, worried that something happened, raised his hand to go and use the bathroom and the sensei wasnt exactly paying attention so he just let him go

thank god he has long legs bc he was able to reach the bathroom quick and he stifled a shriek when he saw your passed out form inside

‘M/N-CHAN!’

he yelled and he cursed when duh you were alone and who knows how long youve been there

and ew bathroom floors is bleh

you were in no way light but you werent exactly heavy either so he was able to muster up all his strength and hoisted you on his back

tooru’s heart thrummed in his chest and he knew it couldnt be that serious but he cant help but think of the worst

and yep

the nurse just told him that your heartbeat was okay and you were snoring so you mustve been exhausted by the dark circles in your eyes

‘keep an eye on him for me. i have to tend to midoriya over there. the kid broke his arm again and i dont know how’

she grumbled at the end but tooru didnt care as he sat on the chair next to your bed

he sighed before laying his head on the cot by your hand

his eyes settled on your face and how peaceful it looked

gosh, you really were so cute

your personality just sucked ass

constantly telling him to shut up and calling him idiot

hmph

not long after oikawa fell asleep, you woke up and cursed, immediately realizing you fainted and you missed class

as you were going to rub your eye, there was weight on your hand and you looked down to see a head full of brown hair that could only belong to a certain someone

a certain idiot

‘oi. oikawa, wake up’

you shook his head and when he didnt budge, you just pulled your hand from under him making him jump awake

at first, he was confused

looking around like a lost puppy and his eyes bleary

yea it was cute and what about it

then he noticed you sitting up and he smiled

‘you feeling better, m/n-chan?’

he asked, leaning close

but you placed your hand on his face to push him away

‘yea. and stop leaning so close, idiot’

you grumbled and he whined

‘youre so mean, m/n-chan! i was so worried about you!’

he complained and you rolled your eyes

‘i didnt ask you to be, idiot’

SLDKFJSDLKFJKL M/N IS SO MEAN WHAT THE FAK

oikawa frowned

‘i cant help it. i like you, m/n-chan’

you froze, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows

then you chuckled dryly

‘yea, okay sure. im okay now so you can go to class’

wOW OIKAWA DESERVES BETTER WHAT

tooru was taken aback

‘wh-what? thats it? after i just told you that i liked you?’

you blinked at him

‘what do you want me to say about that, oikawa? how do you want me to react? im not like your fangirls, squealing and shit’

your words cut deep in him and oikawa held your arm

‘no wait a minute. what do you mean by that? do you not believe me?’

‘who the hell believes something that’s fake?’

there was a snip in your tone and oikawa knew you were talking about this facade of his

‘what? i-’

‘you think i believe you? you telling me you like me? do you even know who you are?’

you asked and tooru sniffled, eyes staring at your chest

‘for years, you told people what you wanted them to hear, regardless if you meant them or not. not once have you ever told them no. who the hell accepts chocolates when they dont even like them to begin with?’

at that last part, oikawa snapped up to meet your eyes

‘how did you know’

you rolled your eyes

‘our brothers are friends, idiot. he gave him some of the chocolates you gave to takeru since the brat couldnt eat them all’

oddly, that brought some warmth in tooru’s chest

so he wasnt the only one who knows the stupid stuff

but you continued on your rant

‘for a guy who doesnt like sweet stuff, youve accepted their nasty treats all the time, like why? oh, wait i know why, because you want them to like you. it doesnt matter if-if this-this persona of yours isnt real because as long as they like you, you dont give a fuck. isn’t that true? am i right? because please, prove me wrong’

maybe your dislike for him came out at that tangent and you half expected him to cry but you were surprised when he glared at you with teary eyes

‘i will. ill prove you wrong, m/n, that i do like you and i will make you like me. ill make you like me with the real me. i swear.’

‘mhm. okay. sure, oikawa’

do you regret it?

i mean,,,

kinda?

but not really?

because you loved watching the girls faces fall when oikawa rejected their treats the next day

you were walking to class when you noticed him with his cult by the entrance and you saw him smiling at some girl before gently pushing away a can of cookies

‘gomen. i actually dont like sweets that much anymore. if you want, you can give me milk bread?’

you stopped and oikawa caught your eye and he grinned

you nodded in greeting before continuing to walk

but he noticed a small smile on your face and gosh oikawa sighed like a lovesick fool

it took iwaizumi to finally send him back and his fangirls were looking at him worriedly

‘could you be less obvious, shittykawa?’

rip iwaizumi hajime in episode 546546546 of daily adventures of oikawa tooru

you noticed that oikawa has started to become distant with his fangirls and hes been sticking to you during lunch, leaving behind the others

makki and mattsun looked like proud parents as they peered down over to you flicking oikawa’s forehead and they smiled

‘god, that kid deserves this’

‘hah? that sounds like more of a punishment to me. but i dont care. it takes him off our hands for a while’

IWA I SWEAR HES SO MEAN BUT HE STILL WUVS TOORU SO ITS OKAY

oikawa would pick your brother up and take him home when youre too busy to go get him yourself and sometimes, he even takes your little sister too which causes them to have a mini sleepover and you sleep there too

also, whenever youre working in the convenience store, tooru would buy sandwhiches and a drink just for you so you can eat them while youre on break and not have to waste money and you told himyou dont want him spending money on you but he doesnt wanna hear it

‘i dont want you buying me-’

‘ssshhhh dont. im doing this because i want to and becaus i care for you, m/n-chan’

overtime,

yea

sure

youve started to like him

youve started looking forward to seeing his stupidly cute face and his stupidly cute giggle

you went to his games and gave him a tight hug when hes about to play as a ritual for good luck and you would open your arms for him wide whenever he wins

then he didnt

against shiratorizawa, you noticed how he was so disappointed

even as you walked home with him, he continued to smile and tell you how good his team played

until you couldnt take it anymore

you pulled him over to some alleyway and you pushed him to the wall

DSKLFJLSDKFJLSDFJ WOW WHAT

oikawa nervously fiddled with his jacket and gave you a shaky smile

‘m/n-chan, what are you-’

‘tell me what youre feeling right here, right now. no bullshit, no lies, tell me everything in that pretty head of yours’

you deadpanned and tooru looked away

‘im fine’

‘are you lying to me, tooru?’

your voice was even but he could tell you were serious

he gulped before taking in a shakey breath

‘im fine. so stop asking about it!’

he exclaimed and you sighed

‘listen, i know its not official yet but you want me to be your boyfriend right?’

tooru flinched before he flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’

then he nodded

‘as your boyfriend, you have to lean on me, tooru. i dont want you to hold it to yourself because i wanna be there for you and i want to go through everything with you because i,,,,,’

you stopped and hesitated, debating if you should say it or not

‘because i like you, idiot’

you confessed and swallowed thickly

oikawa met your eye and his eyes watered

‘im so angry! im so disappointed! but i know my team did their 110 percent! we’re just not strong enough! so its not their fault! but ushijima is such a freak and hes too strong and its not fair!’

he complained and he cried loudly

not once in the 3 years of knowing oikawa have you seen him cry and you were so proud of him for being able to trust you enough to show him being vulnerable

you rushed forward held him close to your chest

‘for what it’s worth, you looked so incredibly hot and cute playing’

you whispered and pecked his neck

of course oikawa couldnt hold his surprise at the feeling of your lips on his neck so he squealed a little

you gigled and continued holding your boyfriend close, even if it was at some nasty alleyway

yall became official and ngl, they didnt see this coming

some nobody dating the grand king oikawa tooru?

what in the wattpad?

yall know that tiktok of like ‘guys you cant dm me anymore. i have a girlfriend now. what else? and i love her’

IF YALL DONT KNOW IM SORRY

but you totally made oikawa tell his fangirls that

YOU KNOW THE FUNNY THING?

when yall became official, you actually gained your own little fanclub

maybe its because you gained clout from your boyfriend but they started noticing you and wowza you were hot

before, it was you getting jealous over tooru but now, it was him getting possessive of you

hes such a brat that he sits on your lap before class and youre just all smirking and feeling all good bc your baby is so cute when hes jealous

YOU CANT DISAGREE THAT HE DOESNT RADIATE UKE ENERGY

but all oiks has to do is pull down your collar and expose your purple littered collarbones and they will know who you belong to

theres a reason why iwa-chan is now the kids babysitter

youre still kinda cold and distant to people but youre soft for your baby and you always hold him close when hes in sight and you just cant get enough of him

:’)

also!!

your sister loves dressing you up and oikawa has his sisters makeup and they both do your makeup and you guys have tea party with the boys and just the cutest domestic stuff

you still call him idiot though

but like affectionately yanno?

and over the years youve turned it down to dummy

and ngl tooru loves it when you call him that

what in the dumbification-

because he knows that equivalent to babe from you and he absolutely just loves you lmao

youre def the more quieter and calmer one in the relationship like you absolutely dont react much

while tooru is the overreactor and hes very animated with his facial expressions and stuff

like the one time

he was cooking some chicken pasta and you cheekily grabbed a piece of chicken and he made a dramatic gasp

‘*le gasp* oikawa m/n how dare steal a piece of chicken!’

you cackled before crossing your arms at the sight ofyour lover with his pursed lips and hands on his hips

‘excuse you. its more of you who’d take my last name’

it was so easy to make him flustered and tooru quickly turned around to tend back to the food but he was really just hiding his red face

‘b-baka. thats not going to happen’

‘not if i do it first’

you shrugged and smirked, wondering if he will fall for it

and as expected with oikawa tooru

‘yea okay sure’

‘i will!’

‘prove me wrong, m/n-chan~’

‘turn around right now’

oikawa rolled his eyes playfully before turning with a smile

‘what are you-*le gasp part 2*’

his hands covered his mouth at the sight of you there in front of him, kneeling on your knee tightly clutching a silver ring between your thumb and index finger

your heart was thrumming in your chest but you gulped and smiled

‘i win. now marry me, dummy’

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry if this sucked booty :((( but i just really like the thought of uke oikawa and just him with a cute boyfriend for a change like please we all know oikawa is a bi king and thats on docosahexaenoic acid

125 notes · View notes

pockyxx · 4 years ago

Text

“ beautiful ”

akaashi x fem!reader genre: hurt + comfort, wholesome ending. (a s/o with alopecia)

a/n: to the anon that requested this, I hope I did your request justice. and to everyone reading this, don’t forget to be kind. I’m also really sorry it took so long for me to publish. i also wanna put out that bc i don’t have alopecia i can’t fully comprehend the struggles of having it. i used some parts of my own life with my own health issues and the mental struggles that come with them.

You sat in your room, laying on your bed on the phone with your best friend. The topic remained casual although there was something on your mind that had been bugging you.

“So how are you and Akaashi doing?” She asked and you bit your lip, running your hand over your head, eyes glancing to the wig that sat on it’s stand. You sighed, giving the delayed response.

“He’s perfect it’s just...” You trailed off, letting your friend fill in the blanks that you were too scared to say.

“You haven’t told him about your alopecia?” Her tone was a confusing mix of angry and soft. She understood that it was difficult to deal with, years of trying to get over the insecurity that came with loosing your hair.

“What if he gets weirded out? Or if he doesn’t like that I’m not feminine or that I need a wig-” You’d gone into a ramble before hearing [your friend’s name] shout, cutting you off.

“If he doesn’t like you the way you are, it’ll be a sign that the two of you aren’t meant to be together.” She sighed, “even if it seems perfect now, if he can’t love you for you, it’ll be for the best if you ended it.” The words came with a lot of weight.

You nodded, replying with with a yes quickly after realizing she couldn’t see your gestures.

“When should I do it?”

“Today and you’re gonna call me right after you do it. Okay ? Now I’ve got to go, I love you n/n.”

“Love you too [your friend’s name], I promise to tell you how it goes. Bye.” Your pitch went up, hearing her repeat her goodbye before hanging up. Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you sent a text to Akaashi for him to come over as soon as possible and that you needed to tell him something.

When Akaashi first got the text, his first impression was that you were unsatisfied with the relationship and wanted to end things. That’s why he left practice a little early, anxiously making his way to your house.

This was the first time he’d actually be going inside your house, always just dropping you at the front door whenever he walked you home. A million different scenarios ran through his mind but none of them were what was about to happen.

His eyes widened when he greeted him at the door with puffy, bloodshot eyes. You were wearing his hoodie, it falling over you nicely. Akaashi picked up on your body language, noticing how reserved you seemed.

“Come inside, please.” You voice was soft and broken. Caught up in his anxiety he didn’t know how to embrace you-- well he knew, he was just frozen in place, this was the first team he’d seen you so upset.

“Y/n, what happened?” He wondered as you lead him up to the living room, seating him down on the couch, your hands shaking. You explained how you and [friend’s name] were talking earlier.

“You too didn’t get into a fight did you?” He sat a little bit closer to you, placing his hand on your back but it only caused you to shudder, lip trembling as a silent-trying-to-be-held-back sob escape.

“I thought I could do it today, but I don’t think I can.” The back of your nose rubbed your running nose as Akaashi could hear his heart beating a pace about a million times faster.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, slowly taking his hand away but you quickly shook your head.

“No, no, Keiji. It’s nothing about us-- well...” You trailed off, keeping your voice from cracking. You leaned forward, hiding your face in your hands only to peek back at him. “You love me right, Keiji?”

He was taken back by the question, putting his face in front of your, taking your hands in his, tracing over them with his thumb.

“Of course I love you, y/n where is this coming from?” he let go of your hand only to softly cup your face.

It hurt to make eye contact with him but you knew you had to. The promise you’d made to your friend rang through your mind.

“It’s just, there’s something about me that you don’t know and I didn’t tell you when we first met because I was terrified it would scare you away.” His heart beat sped up but at the same time shattered that you felt like you couldn’t be open with him.

“Nothing you do will scare me away.” You nodded in response, his soothing words making just the slightest bit easier. Taking a deep breath, you told him.

“When I was starting middle school... I started noticing that parts of my hair were falling out, and other people would notice it too.” You frowned, recalling the sour memories. Keiji laced his fingers with yours again, listening attentively.

“It got to the point that my parents too me to the doctors, they ran a few tests and they said I have alopecia. It’s when the immune system basically attacks the hair follicles.”

Your free hand inched closer to the base of the wig that you were wearing. Akaashi watched you, taking in every detail and subconsciously he figured out what you were trying to convey.

“So now...well I don’t really have any hair... anywhere.” You gulped, bracing yourself for him to flinched away and call you gross but instead he only brought you closer.

“That’s not important to me, y/n, I’d love you even if you had scales.” You chuckled. The way he held your face with both his hands now, and even though your eyes were closed you could feel Keiji tracing over every feature of your face.

Letting go, you stared deeply into his beautiful eyes, as he pushed a strand of the wig behind your ear.

“Let me see you, all of you.” He breathed out as you nodded and while keeping eye contact with him, you tugged off the wig.

Tears threaten to fall again at the vulnerable position you were in but Akaashi only brought you closer to him feeling his smooth lips on the crown of your head.

“Beautiful—you’re breathtakingly beautiful.”

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doesrevali · 4 years ago

Text

yes hi im here to make a fanfic based off of 'panic room' bc im quirky like that

Pairing: Revalink (Revali x Link)

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, etc.

Summary:

Link has always fought his way through everything. Who says it'll be any different this time?

It's around noon when Link and Zelda are walking to survey damage. The buildings and the fields don't affect Link as much as it does Zelda, who saw it all before with no memory loss.

She's on the verge of tears the whole time, sniffing and walking with her posture stiff. Link has half the mind to say something about it, but he doesn't. He resides to her side, as he used to before the Calamity. He supposes it was an unconscious habit, even if he hadn't had the pleasure of doing it for some time.

Link had stopped paying attention to his surroundings quite a while ago, having seen it before. It was no surprise to him anyway. What's the point in mourning what he's been around for months?

"Goddess, Link. I wonder how you deal with seeing this."

All he does is grunt, not having the heart to tell her that he didn't care.

"Link, didn't you say that you had completed all the shrines?" It's only then that he looks up, mostly in confusion. Why would that be worth asking? He gets his answer only a second later, after following the princess's gaze to that familiar pattern strewn on familiar stone.

He almost curses out loud. Why, why did I always have to deal with this? He catches that thought, and wonders. When had he ever hoped to be done with his job? He doesn't remember that.

Zelda runs over to the stone, hands shaky over where the Shekiah Slate goes. "Link, you wouldn't happen to have-" He gives the slate over to her without a second thought.

"Thank you, although I don't know if it would work for me-"

Link shakes his head, gesturing for her to try it.

Sighing, Zelda hesitates for a moment. She eventually holds it above the terminal, eyes closed and murmuring prayers. When it accepts the slate, her eyes open with the closest thing to genuine glee Link has ever seen from her. "I did it, Link! I did it! I wonder if it's because of my powers... Do you think so? Maybe- Oh, whatever! Let's go, I've only heard stories of what's inside from you and.." Link zones out, not thinking as he steps onto the platform. He wonders if he even has control anymore, watching himself.

Zelda gasps, the feeling of the platform lowering likely surprising her. Link doesn't blame her, distantly remembering the first time he did it. Everything was.. blurry?

When they get down into the shrine, there are two doors. Looking to the sides, there are chests. He walks over to them, grabbing the keys from inside. Going to the door (with Zelda hot on his heels), he tries to open it.

The door doesn't budge, and Link stops for a moment. Zelda hums, grabbing one of the keys from his hands (noticeably sweaty, although she doesn't comment on it. Why were they sweaty anyway?)

"I wonder if we have to open the doors together! Possibly.. Although I wonder how they would work like that, what's the technology behind it? Ah, Link! Stay at that door, and open it when I open that one over there, at the same time! We can see if that works!"

Nodding, Link waits for her to get to the door.

"Three, two, one!"

They both insert the keys, and dull thudding comes only a moment after. Both the doors open, and Link has to stop himself from rushing to the Princess's side, anxious about the harm behind her own door. When Zelda only looks inside, though, he calms down.

"I think we're supposed to enter them.. I'll go inside here, you go there," Link takes a step forward, about to protest, "I'll be fine. You don't worry, I have this scythe. I can handle myself enough. This is for the shrine."

He pauses before nodding. He supposes he's taught her enough moves. Zelda walks inside, and Link feels anxiety bubbling up in his chest. He waits, then walks inside his own door.

Right as both his feet step beyond the doorway, it shuts. He almost yells out, feeling his own voice die quickly in his throat. He doesn't stop himself from banging on it, though, in some hopes that Zelda had escaped and was on the other side.

Not hearing a response, he stills himself and takes a breath. It's fine, he thinks. She's okay. He turns, peering down a corridor. Walking forward, there appears another chest. He kicks it lightly, watching it pop open. A floating green orb wafts out, looking eerily similar to something Link didn't want to remember.

"I suppose I never get a break. Never with you! How many times must I be at your beck and call?"

No.

"No? Tell me, since when have either of us had a choice?"

Link breathes in, willing himself to not think.

"Ignoring me now, I assume. Nothing new."

His body appears, slowly but surely. Something Link wishes never happened. Time stops when Revali fully appears, and it only starts again when Revali waves a hand in front of Link's face.

"I don't remember you being so zoned out.. I suppose you've finally realized that you're talking to the great Revali? About time!"

Link nods absentmindedly, turning his gaze farther along the hallway.

"Ah, yes, we should figure out what this is. I'm not completely sure as to why I'm here, but you wouldn't be able to tell me." The words sound accusing, and Link has to stop himself from flinching away. The truth in those words was a little too obvious. He walks away, ignoring Revali's squawk and the sound of running footsteps. Why could he hear the spirit's footsteps?

They walk a little farther before Link starts noticing the walls closing in. Whether it's his mind or not, Revali doesn't say anything about it, so he assumes it's just himself. Why would he be having these problems now? It's never happened before.

When are we going to get there?

"I assume it will be soon. There can't be much more left."

Jumping, Link rounds on the spirit. Apparently, the taller understands and begins to explain. "I can't hear you, so no need to worry. But it just appears in my mind. I know what you say, even if I don't hear it. Trust me, it's not like I want this either." Revali huffs.

Link turns back, trying to calm himself before continuing. Soon enough, another door shows up. There's no lock to be wary of, so with no hesitation the blond opens the door. There's a familiar room, one of which looks eerily similar to the 'Minor Test of Strength' in a shrine he can remember being hell. Not that it was hard in terms of how strong he was; the bot just had some new moves that confused him to no end.

A shiver runs up his spine (something he doesn't remember ever feeling beforehand). It only takes a few steps more before the floor in the middle of the room lifts to reveal a guardian bot. Link is driven by instincts, running forward and unsheathing the Master Sword from off his back.

His mind was drowned out, and he couldn't hear anything. This wasn't a surprise, it happened every time, and he didn't have anything against it. It was just sorta hard when there was somebody else trying to work with him.

"Link, Link! Can you hear me? Goddesses' sake, are you deaf now too? There's another one! Link, there's ANOTHER ONE!"

When Revali yelled, Link whirled around, facing another bot. He back flips out of the way just in time, and momentarily sees the Rito in the air with a look of relief strewn across his face. "Thank Hylia, I never thought you would hear me!"

Link finishes off the two bots easily, obviously, but is still left winded. He has to stop himself from collapsing. He briefly wonders why he's acting like this before he remembers that Revali would know. Straightening up, he trudges over to a chest that had been at the other side of the room. Opening it, Link finds another key.

"There's no door here, which leaves the assumption that this is going to take a lot longer than we thought."

Yeah, I know that, Link thinks bitterly.

Revali's wide eyes say enough as the blond turns and storms down the corridor.

———

Time passes slowly as Link fights off more monsters, and Revali ignores him. The shock seemed to get the the bird, seeing as he wouldn't look at the fight even once. Unfortunately for the Hylian, this meant that there was no warning when it came to the boblikin sneaking up behind him.

It's only when Link lets out a pained yell that Revali's eye snap back to the fight. The smaller is holding the Master Sword in one hand, while the other is holding his injured shoulder. Revali curses himself for not noticing sooner, and feels himself panicking as the black colored monsters corner Link.

"Be careful, and focus!"

It turns out that it wasn't the right thing to do, as only a second later Link's eyes widen in surprise and he trips over his own feet. He lands on the floor with a thud, the sword in his loose hand thrown to the other side of the room.

"Get UP! Get up now! Goddess, I never knew that Hylia's Champion would be such a wimp-"

"Shut up! I'm trying!"

There's a moment of silence that seeps between the two before Link gets back up on unsteady footing. It's the first time Revali has ever seen Link use his fists, but it turns out that there was no reason to be worried. By the end, Link's shoulder and knuckles are bruised and bloody.

Link fixes Revali with a stare he doesn't think he'll ever forget.

Just don't say anything.

"Don't say anything?! The first words I hear from you are telling me to shut up!"

And what do you think your first words to me were?

The words hit harder than the Rito thought they would. The brat wasn't wrong. So all Revali does is watch and follow as Link takes a sharp turn down the corridor.

———

Breathing is hard, Link concludes. He's not sure what his problem is today; all he knows is that he's two more shallow breaths away from running back to the entrance.

He takes a quick look at his sword's grip, feeling a pit in his stomach when he realizes his hands are shaking. Not a good sign.

He looks away, bot wanting his lovely companion to notice. They had been walking down a simple hall the entire time, so when another doorway appears, Link is rushing to get it done. He touches the door, and feels himself stop as a wave of whatever the fuck this is waves over him. He clutches his chest, a choked gasp coming out. His gaze latches onto Revali, who doesn't seem to be paying attention. He dimly realizes his entire body is shaking. He tries to take a step forward, and has to lean on the door so that his legs don't buckle from under him. He sucks it all up and throws open the door, his breath leaving him completely as he falls through the doorway, landing on the floor. He props himself up on his elbows, bringing in knees under him and leaning on his hands.

The room is suddenly leaving, and his mind wanders through a different one. An empty one, full of something that he can't see. His throat is closing up as he takes hoarse breaths, gripping the cold floor. The things he can't see close in, and he feels himself be wrapped up in what he can't understand. Soon enough, what he can't understand takes home in his own body, and he can't hold himself on his hands anymore. His head hits the ground, and his fingers dig into his hair, pulling.

He feels the wetness at his cheeks and he claws at his face, wondering what the fuck is happening to me?

What's happening? Where am I? Why? Where? How? Fuck- why?

How long have I been here? How long have I been on the floor? Where's Revali?

A cold seeps into his head, and he gains his control again, exhaustion hitting him like a train. His hands fall next to his head, and his eyes fall shut. He's left the empty room, and he can hear Revali.

"Link! Listen, please! What happened? Shit-"

Link thinks about his answer, thinks of all the question the Rito is throwing at him. He knows what to respond, but he can't think. His head feels heavy, and his mouth is partly open, deciding that he just doesn't want to answer.

He's stuck in sludge, and as much as he wants to at least lift a finger to his mouth, tell Revali to be quiet, he doesn't. Even so, Revali seems to understand that he won't get anything from the blond, and shuts his beak with a clack.

They stay there for a while (a few minutes? a few seconds? hours?), until Link pushes himself up, willing himself to not throw up. Standing on unsteady feet, he leans against a wall. Eyes downcast, mouth still open, he stays stuck in time for about 10 seconds, before fixing his hair and continuing.

"Link! How could you- Do you- What the fuck? Link, why won't you just speak?!"

The Hylian only nods, then shrugs, trudging along.

He doesn't know what happens next, just knows that he pulled in an embrace. He feels feathers, and smells the open sky. Eyebrows shooting up, Link's hands shoot up to the bird's shoulders, pulling away to see Revali's shocked face.

You could- You could touch me this entire time?

"I didn't- I wasn't aware, no."

You...

"What is it?"

If you can...

Revali tilts his head, something that reminds Link of the dogs he's met at the stables. It's.. endearing.

Revali clicks his beak, looking to the side. "Would you stop looking like that? It's weird-"

Link pulls forward, wrapping his arms around the Rito's waist. Sqwaking, Revali almost pushes the small Hylian off- but he quickly thinks better of it. He's quite lucky he has feathers covering him, or else he'd be in some trouble.

He can feel Link's breaths, and when the Hylian nuzzles into him he has to calm down.

Boy is he lucky, he thinks. Without the feathers on his face, he'd be screwed.

———

They keep going on, the moment before forgotten. Link's surprised to see that there are no monsters, and Revali's relieved. He doesn't think he can watch Link like that again.

He doesn't remember feeling so scared- not since windblight, anyway.

Revali watches Link closely the rest of the way. There's no signs of him falling again. Sure, he still shaking, but that's to be expected. When they climb a ton of stairs, Revali doesn't think twice about it. He's looking at Link so much that he doesn't even realize that they had reached yet another door. When Link goes to grab the handle, Revali takes a step forward. The blond looks back at him, raising an eyebrow. It becomes clear that he understands, though, because Link nods, and starts opening it slowly.

Light floods through. Not just generic light. It's natural. He hears a gasp from the Hylian; something that reminded him a little too much of the.. problem earlier.

"Revali- We're outside!"

The smaller's voice eases the Rito's mind, and he has to stop himself from smiling.

"Yes, I see that."

The both of them step out into the light, and Revali feels a weight off his shoulders.

"Link! I was afraid you would never come out! I had some time to think, and I think the shrine was us having to face our fears-"

He watches as Link runs towards Zelda, the man immediately checking her for injuries.

"Link, I'm fine! You look a little worn though, are you okay?"

He smiles, holding up a sign which Revali assumes means okay.

"I suppose it is my time to leave. I believe I will see you again."

Zelda startles, eyes whipping to the Champion. "You had a champion with you too?! I had Mipha, I had thought that it was just because she could help me through my fears but- wait, did Revali help you?"

"Zelda, If you could give us room to think, it would be great."

He looks back to the Hylian, stuttering when he sees Link's eyes cloud with unshed tears.

"I'm sure you'll be fine without me." He huffs.

Link shakes his head, going to hug him again. Zelda doesn't say anything; something that Revali is endlessly grateful for.

He hears Links sigh, and freezes at his next words.

"Thank you, Revali."

It's only then that Revali smiles, nodding his head. "You'll be fine."

Link nods, then lets go. Revali vanishes into the air.

"I'll watch over you from now on. You'll be fine."

#the fucking end #this took me too fucking long #i dunno why #ahem #anyway #revalink #revali #link #fanfic #fanfiction #legend of zelda #champions #breath of the wild #botw

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emmyrosee · 5 years ago

Note

how about reader getting freaked out bc of a horror movie and Axel finding it fun at first, like making her jump, but when she's on the verge of tears, he stops and just comfort her (feeling like shit bc we all know how Axel is) - 🧠

Brain anon, I am loving the way you think!

….get it?

I’ll go home

Also, is it cheating if I base this on a movie I have been genuinely afraid of, so much so I’ve only been able watch it through breakdowns?

Also I went slightly off prompt because I’m an asshole who has no self control so... here we are😂💕

————

Clutching you knees so tight you think they might snap, your eyes stayed fixated to the screen. It turned off from lack of activity, and you almost preferred the silence. You know you shouldn’t have watched the movie alone, but every time you wanted to watch with Axel, he refused, saying you would be too scared.

Ignoring the absolute fear coursing through your veins, you weren’t about to let Axel be right. It was just a movie, you were going to lose sleep for a night and-

“AHHHHH!” You shriek as Axel plops on the couch next to you. You break your fetal-esque position and practically fly to the other side, ready to fight. Axel raises his hands and flinches away, not sure of the sudden fear. once you calm down, you rub your face and scoot over to curl into his side, which he hesitantly allows you to do.

“Something on your mind, sport?” He asks, and you glare at him, struggling to regulate your breathing.

“I’m fine,” you snap. Then, your face softens, fear creeping back into you. “Just watched something scary…”

“What was it?” Axel asks, concern in his words. He gently rubs your arm, though the initial touch makes you jump. “Come on doll. What did you do?”

“I watched…. that one movie…” your voice is soft, fearful, of saying it. “That… you told me we couldn’t watch.”

His grip on your shoulder tenses, “is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it Funny Games?” He asks, voice containing little sympathy. “You know, the movie that manages to freak even me out-”

“Yes,” you grumble. “And now I’m really fucking scared-“

“Good,” he says flatly. “Let this be a lesson to not watch movies without me.”

“Yeah, thanks for the support asshole,” you spit, quickly getting up from the couch and storming to the kitchen. You grab the handle of the fridge, leaning your pounding head on the chilled surface. You couldn’t admit just how messed up the movie had been; you’d watched way worse with him! You had powered through all his freaky movies with so much as a pause break, why was this the one movie to stick?

You sigh before grabbing a water from the fridge and walking out of the kitchen, ready to put this-

A powerful, quick force pulls you from passing the threshold, and you can’t stop the shriek that slips past your lips. You fight against the grip like you were getting paid to, and finally, you get released, collapsing to the floor and furrowing in a ball. Your heart pounds in your ears and you shake violently when Axel’s laughter brings you back to earth.

“Axel!” You scream, fighting against the tears building in your eyes. His laughter finally quiets down as you look glare at him with absolute fury, teeth grit like a warning dog as tears spilt down your face. His face dropped at the sight of your complete fright and anger, eyes widening.

“Baby, it wasn’t supposed to be-”

“Get the fuck away from me!” You snap, scrambling to your feet and storming off to your room. You slammed the door shut and burrowed under the covers, screwing your eyes shut to stop your crying. On the one hand, you hated him and wanted to keep him the hell away from you. On the other... you knew he would chase after you, anyways, and-

“Princess?” A quiet voice calls from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“Could I stop you if I wanted to?” You return, relaxing slightly as the door opens quietly. Two arms worm their way around you before pulling you flat to his chest, his warm breath slipping past your blanket and across your neck, making you shiver.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispers. “You know that is the last thing I ever want, right?”

“Whatever, Axel,” you mutter. He practically whines, “baby please, I never would’ve done it if I knew the movie scared you that badly.”

“I told you I needed comfort, asshole.”

“I know.”

“You can be a real dick, Axel Cluney,” you spit.

“I know,” he says quietly, shamefully. You nuzzle closer into him, letting one of your hands pop out for the blanket and holding his, “but I guess you’re my dick.”

You practically hear him smirk at your words, “oh really?” He teases. Before you can protest, he worms his cold hands under the blanket and under your shirt, squeezing your breasts through your thin bra. You giggle, and he chuckles as he jumps his hands from your breasts to your ribs to your hips, avoiding your own hands that try to stop him completely.

“Axel!” You manage between laughter. His hands finally settle on your hips as he finishes his own bout of laughter, “was that not an invitation to seduce you and try and turn you on with my infinite charm?”

“No, you freaking weird, charming freak,” you giggle, rolling in your cocoon to face Axel, capturing his lips in a kiss.

#not. a. word #i know this is trash #i know this is cliche #but heres the deal-#i thought it was cute #so hush #axel cluney #axel cluney fluff #axel cluney x reader #axel cluney x reader fluff #axel cluney imagine #axel cluney deadpool two #axel cluney deadpool 2 #deadpool two imagine #deadpool two fluff #deadpool 2 imagine #deadpool 2 fluff

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jamie-leah · 5 years ago

Text

The Ghost Of You

Bucky x Reader

Oneshot?

Word Count: 2,781

Summary: Request - I'mma add to the angst and request a fic where your ex which you thought to be dead was discovered to be alive and due to conflicted feelings you say no to Bucky when he proposes to you, the rest is up to you bc you are a fantastic writer 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Warnings: Angst, swearing, Fluff, mentions of torture and scars, Cliffhanger

A/N: This took a mind of its own. Thank you for the request Nonnie! Hope it was what you had in mind? Enjoy Lovelies!

Oneshot Masterlist Series Masterlist

“You know I could kick your ass any day of the week, Buck", you say with a smirk and a sideways glance in the elevator down.

Bucky chuckles and turns to you, “only because you cheat".

You look at him, jaw slack in mock offense, “I do not cheat!”.

“Oh please! Last week you started crying and you know I hate seeing you cry! You knew I had you and you took advantage of the fact I’m your boyfriend”, Bucky says, the smirk never leaving his face.

You toss him one of your own and say, “that’s just good tactics, baby. Use your opponent’s weakness against them".

Bucky tips his head back to laugh and it has you grinning when the doors slide open into the lobby of the avengers building. People are milling about like ants but it’s the commotion at the front desk that has you pausing.

A guy with sandy hair that brushes the tops of his shoulders is shouting at the receptionist, “you need to let me see her!”.

Adrenaline starts to flood your veins and you find yourself approaching without thought as you notice his ripped clothes. His voice scratching familiarly at a door you thought you closed years ago.

He shouts again, “you need to get Y/N down here now, you don’t understand”.

The way your name falls off his tongue is like a sucker punch and it takes everything not to double over from shock. You’re vaguely aware of Bucky murmuring, “is he asking for you?”.

But it’s only you and the guy in the whole of the room right now as you say, “Charlie?”.

Charlie, your ex of 4 years, whips around at the sound of your voice. You take each other in for a full minute before he makes his way towards you.

Instinctively, you take a step back. Your ex was dead. You were there when he died. You went to his funeral. This man in front of you is a ghost.

Charlie doesn’t flinch at your reaction, instead taking another step and talking to you like you’re a frightened animal, “Y/N, it’s okay, it’s me, Charlie. Please baby, you’ve got to believe me. I’ve been trying to get back to you all this time and I’ve finally found you".

You shake your head but don’t move away from him, “h-how?”.

Charlie stretches his arms out towards you, “does it matter?”.

The room rushes back as you see Bucky's metal arm come between you and Charlie, his voice comes out hard and guarded, “actually, yes it does matter. You’re supposed to be dead".

Your head was spinning far too fast to register the switch in Charlie as he replies with equal wariness and steel, “yes, I realise that. Can I have a moment with my girlfriend”. It was a statement, not a request despite the wording.

Bucky doesn’t budge, “I’m not sure, you’ll have to ask her". Neither of them takes their eyes off each other and you can feel the air get so thick with tension you wonder when the lightning is going to strike.

You shake your head like you can clear away the cobweb of memories. You lay a hand on Bucky’s arm but look to Charlie, “I guess you should come upstairs then”.

It doesn’t take long before you’re standing in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee made and silence to settle. You stand leaning against the counter, Charlie sits at the island nursing a mug, and Bucky leans against the entryway watching Charlie’s every move.

After Charlie takes a sip of his coffee, he looks to you with an annoyed but desperate look, “why does he have to be here? This isn’t how I imagined our reunion”.

You look from Bucky to Charlie before saying, “he’s staying, Charlie. Bucky is, well, he’s my boyfriend”.

You realise you’re holding your breath, but you can’t help it as you watch for Charlie’s reaction. You think you see shock, but it’s quickly masked by a guarded face that could only mean he was hurt, “oh, I see”.

Your heart squeezes a little and you find yourself speaking before you think, “it’s not like that, Charlie”.

You see Bucky give you a sharp look and your head starts to spin again. How the hell did you end up in this position? There was a time you couldn’t even get a guy to call you back and now you have 2 boyfriends? Well, kind of.

You scrub your hands down your face and let out a sigh before looking to Charlie, “what happened? I saw you die. Where have you been all this time?”.

Charlie nods like he was expecting these questions, “I don’t have all the answers. One second, I have a gun to my head and I’m watching you knowing my number is up and the next I wake up in a dark cell and get tortured for the next 3 years”.

Before you can say anything, Bucky cuts in with only two words, “prove it”.

Charlie stares daggers into Bucky and it leaves a prickly heat spread across your skin, “what the fuck man?”.

Bucky shrugs, unfazed by the aggressive tone, “I know the story. I was the one that found Y/N at a Hydra base. If you were really kept and tortured by Hydra for the last 3 years, there’d be proof”, Bucky pauses to wiggle his metal fingers, “trust me. I know”.

Charlie scraps the chair against the floor, the sound echoing around the room as he lifts up his shirt. Scars of all shapes and sizes criss cross his chest and stomach. It’s a sight that has you step towards him before you finally catch yourself. Your feelings are all over the place. You don’t even know what’s an appropriate reaction anymore.

Bucky is the one to speak again, “how did you escape?”.

Charlie looks to you, anger clearly blazing in his dark brown eyes, “what the fuck is with this guy?”.

They both look to you and it makes you feel like a mother being asked to pick between her children. You want to scream, you want to run, you want to hide, but you know this situation won’t sort itself out. It’ll still be a mess for when you come back.

You look at Bucky and your trust in him is unwavering, woven into the fabric of why you love him, that unbreakable trust.

You look to Charlie and you know you still love him, the man that grew up with you, the man that was taken from you.

You turn your back on them and place your hands on the kitchen counter. You needed a moment to think, to sort through the jumble in your head, without the feel of them watching everything you do. Without the expectations.

You let your shoulders slump and say without even turning around, “how did you escape Charlie?”.

The room goes quiet for a few moments before Charlie replies emotionless, “they let me go”.

Bucky barks out a dark laugh as you slowly turn to face him again. For the first time since you saw him suspicion starts to bloom, “you expect me to believe they just…let you go?”.

Charlie walks around the island towards you and you can practically feel Bucky like a livewire in the room. Charlie grips your upper arms and looks into your eyes with a sincerity that would be hard to fake, but maybe it was the close proximity that had you all out of whack.

Charlie murmurs, “would I lie to you babe? Give me the hard truth or pass me the hard liquor, remember?”.

You smile briefly at the old saying you used to share as you say, “you don’t know where the hard liquor is”.

Charlie grins, “I wouldn’t need to. It was always the hard truth. And telling you that they let me go is the hard truth exactly because of your reaction. If I wanted you to trust what I said straight off the bat I would have made something more convincing up”.

He had a point and it was hard to argue when he was there, standing in front of you. When he was solid flesh and breathing the same air as you. You feel your resolve crumble a bit as you whisper, “you’re really alive”.

Charlie pulls you into a hug as he nods against you, “yeah babe, I’m really alive and there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you”.

After a few moments Bucky’s voice fills the silence, “you want to hear another hard truth? It doesn’t make sense for Hydra to just let you go. It would be easier for them to kill you than to let you go unless you were still useful to them”.

You step away from Charlie at the sound of Bucky’s voice and turn to Bucky, “you’re probably right, but we have time to figure that out”.

Bucky shakes his head, looking down at the floor before finding your eyes again, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you watch our new guest while I talk to Y/N in private”.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies immediately, “of course, Barnes”.

You glance back at Charlie before following Bucky out of the room and all the way down the hall, out of earshot of the kitchen even for a super soldier.

Bucky shakes his head again, “I have a bad feeling about this, Doll”.

You roll your eyes, “I wonder why my current boyfriend has a bad feeling about my ex-boyfriend that was supposed to be dead but has come back?”.

Anger flares in his eyes, “it’s more than that, Y/N. There’s something that isn’t adding up, something we’re missing. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it to”.

You cross your arms, “I don’t actually”.

“Oh come on!-“.

“No, Buck. You come on. Someone I cared about…care about has come back from the grave and yes there are questions that need answers but…I saw him die Bucky, can’t I just have a few moments?”, you start the sentence angry but it ends in a whisper.

Bucky’s face softens at your tone. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into him, placing a hard kiss to the crown of your head. You breathe him in and take a moment to thank the stars for someone as understanding as Bucky.

Bucky murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry, I get it, I just want to keep you safe. Besides, we can talk about it more at dinner tonight”.

You pull back slightly to look up at him, “I mean, we’re not going to dinner now”.

Bucky frowns, “what? Why?”.

You pull away from him to see if he was being serious, “did you not just listen to a word I said?”.

Bucky nods, “yeah, of course I did. But we’ve had this dinner planned for ages, Doll, we can’t cancel it now”.

You shake your head at him in disbelief, “it’s not every day that someone’s ex comes back from the dead, so I think that’s a good enough reason to skip the dinner just this once, Buck”.

You start to walk back to the kitchen when “no!”, bursts from Bucky.

You turn to look at him, anger heating up your skin, “what the hell is the matter with you, Barnes?!”

Bucky exhales heavily, head hung low. When he finally looks up at you, he’s wearing his boyish half grin like he’s just accepted the way life has dealt his hand, “this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and I can’t believe my own goddamn luck”.

“What’s going on, Bucky?”, you ask, confusion tainting your words.

Bucky takes a deep breath before he pulls out a red velvet box. Your heart stops at the sight but it takes a few moments for your muddled brain to register what it is until he opens it. A perfect silver ring sits innocently inside.

Words abandon you as you stare at the man in front of you. Bucky says softly, “I was only pushy about dinner because I was going to propose tonight. I had the whole evening planned and everything. Everyone was involved…but the how and what and when doesn’t really matter. It’s the why. I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I could. I honestly don’t deserve you, but you make me a better man and my world is brighter with you in it. So, I want you to stay in it, forever”.

He closes the distance between you, but it gives you little comfort and you will him not to say the words, but he does, and it breaks your heart, “will you marry me?”.

You shake your head as your vision blurs. You’re thankful for the tears so you don’t have to look at the hurt that will be written on his face, “I can’t. I can’t do this right now, Buck”.

As your tears fall, his face comes back into focus, hurt and uncertainty all mixed together, “I don’t understand. I know things are complicated and this may not have been the best time, but we love each other, don’t we?”.

“Of course, we do”, you whisper the words that you know are true, so why is this so hard?

“Then I don’t understand-“.

You cut him off, needing the words to come out before they kill you from the inside out, “because I love him too. It’s not like we broke up. We didn’t do anything terrible to each other or let the relationship breakdown. He was taken from me Bucky. I watched him die. When someone dies you move on, but you don’t stop loving them”.

The more you speak the more distance Bucky puts between you, each step he takes is like feeling a piece of your soul leaving, “so what does that mean for us?”.

You go to reach for him but think better of it as you answer, “you have to help me here a little, okay? This isn’t a normal situation. I need time to think. There’s just too much going on right now”.

Bucky bows his head, avoiding eye contact and states, “yeah, time. I think I can do that”. Bucky turns and walks down the rest of the hallway to the elevator.

You call his name even as the elevator doors shut. You stand in the emptiness for a few moments and swipe your hands over your cheeks and under your eyes. You straighten your shoulders and walk back into the kitchen to find Charlie sitting at the island.

He looks up when you walk in, glancing behind you, “where’s your bodyguard?”.

You’re surprised at how much ease you reply to him with, “gone for a walk. I thought maybe we could chat”.

Charlie beams at you and you manage a smile back but only until you ask a serious question, “what were they torturing you for this whole time?”.

His smile vanishes and the quickness of it almost startles you, but you ignore it as he starts speaking again, “it was about you”.

You sigh, knowing it would be, but not wanting this conversation with Charlie right now, “so you know then”.

He flashes you a look, “yeah, eventually I did. Why didn’t you tell me you used to work for Hydra?”.

You turn away from him as he says the truth aloud. You don’t speak so Charlie fills the silence again, “does he know?”.

You toss the answer over your shoulder, “everyone on the team knows”.

You hear the hurt in Charlie’s voice, “and you didn’t tell me?”.

You turn to face him again, “I told them after you were dead, or at least I thought you were dead. I was too ashamed to tell anyone, but I was a mess after I thought you had died. When they did it-when I thought…I nearly told them everything just to end it-“.

“Why didn’t you?”, Charlie asks.

You shrug, “it would have felt like you had died for nothing, because of you I never told a soul. Not even any of the good guys. That information would be too dangerous even for someone with good intentions”.

Charlie gestures like he understands and you’re grateful for it. There’s a pause before he says softly, “can I have some more coffee?”.

You nod and turn back to the coffee maker, barely having time to reach for it when you feel a pinch in your neck and strong arms wrapping around you.

You don’t understand until your limbs become too heavy and the room sways. You stumble but Charlie catches you, whispering, “that was all I needed to hear”. Then everything goes black.

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cptn-stvngrntrgrs · 6 years ago

Note

Prompt! Natasha meets Steve's mother, Sarah, in a vision after a mission bc she got injured or smth. "Watching you and my son from up here has got to be the most frustrating thing to watch. Both of you are stubborn and dont realize what you have right now could be something more."

holy shit anon. this is a couple months too late, i’m so sorry!!! thank you for this prompt though - i truly had fun with it!!! here you go~~!!!

Title: I Had A Dream; Your Mother Knows

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Natasha needed a nudge and who else better give it to her than Sarah Rogers herself?

set sometime after CACW and before Infinity War.

Okay, I know the title are two ABBA songs but there’s nothing else related to ABBA in this fic; I just happened to be listening to the Mamma Mia soundtrack while thinking of a title lol

There are bad missions and there’s bad missions.

This one happens to fall into the latter category, Natasha noticed, a little bit too late. They were tracking down a major supplier of illegal Chitauri weapons deep in the rural countryside. Sam was in charge of flying their jet while Steve and Wanda took down the dealers as a distraction so Natasha can come into their main office and gather the intel.

She plugged in the flash drive and began coding the files from the computer into it, typing furiously. She heard a lock click and in a split second, she has her gun drawn and twirled around to face one of the dealers, holding a gun in front of him. She was a fraction of a second too late as he already fired at her twice, two bullets hitting her chest and stomach. Shit, she cursed through gritted teeth and managed to fire at the guy just before she started to stammer down, gripping onto the desk behind her. The shot hit his waist and he stumbled backwards.

Natasha fired another round at him but her aim was shaky as she tries to keep standing up. She heard the door burst open and collapsed to the floor at the sight of Steve. He looked at her then at the man, who was getting ready to fire at Steve, but he beat him to it and emptied his gun at him to make sure he’s gone, before running to Natasha’s side.

She remembered seeing Steve hold onto her and him screaming into his earpiece for Sam to get them. And she could faintly hear Steve crying out her name, sounding very desperate. Natasha wants to wake up and remind him to let go of her and get the flash drive instead, what is he doing!!! This mission would be pointless if they don’t get that intel. She tried but she couldn’t. She felt something consuming her and she let it, letting the pain go.

–

Natasha woke up, her head feeling light and vision hazy. She was lying down in bed, but the ceiling was unfamiliar for her. Slowly, she turned her head around and saw a woman watching her. Natasha squinted her eyes at the figure but she couldn’t make out her face. Feeling weak, she took her time to sit up and examine her surroundings. She was at a small apartment, and although it was a place she’s never been to before, it feels… familiar.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the woman’s voice broke the silence. Natasha was still looking around her and let her eyes fall on the woman in front of her once again.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Natasha’s voice came out as raspy and she coughed to clear her throat but soon flinched from the pain she suddenly felt on her stomach. She placed a hand down to put a little bit of pressure on it, hoping to ease the pain.

“Are you hurt?” the woman replied, a frown gracing her beautiful features. Natasha narrowed her eyes. She looks so familiar. And that frown… she’s seen that frown somewhere, she just couldn’t remember. When Natasha didn’t answer, the woman let out a bit of a chuckle. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. You must be confused. I’m Sarah. Sarah Rogers.”

Natasha blinked. Sarah…? Like Steve’s mother, Sarah? Well that does explain the familiar features. And the apartment. She’s seen photos of it from Steve’s old files from before the war. Steve talked about how beautiful his mother was but seeing her personally, she’s gorgeous. Steve definitely got his striking blue eyes from his mother.

Sarah smiled at her, noticing the look of recognition on Natasha’s face. “I take it that you know me from Steve?” Natasha nodded, still trying to take in what’s really happening. “Good. I’m glad that he still talks about me, that silly punk.”

Natasha felt her lips twitch at that. She remembered Steve telling her that his mother and Bucky would call him ‘punk’ due to his reckless nature. “Um, Ms. Rogers, why am I seeing you? Am I… dead?” the possibility of her being dead hasn’t really hit Natasha yet but that’s the only reason that she could think of that would make her see Sarah. She felt a pang of sadness… and regret.

Sarah laughed - it was a beautiful sound - and waved a hand, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re not dead. Almost, though. You were hit, badly, and poor Steve’s shaken,” she explained. Natasha frowned, she remembered getting shot but she didn’t think it was that bad.

“Oh… Um, but how am I with you?” she asked once again.

“Yes, about that. Well this is just me visiting you in a dream. But you’ll be fine, honey, don’t worry,” Sarah reassured, noticing the look of concern on Natasha’s face.

“Huh. I’ve been getting interesting dreams lately,” Natasha mumbled. She thought about the dream she had the other day - a vision of a family, her family. With Steve. Complete with a big house and a white picket fence. She shook her head because no, that’s not possible.

Sarah was watching her intently. “Natasha, I’m here because I want to talk to you. I’ve been watching you and my son from up here,” she paused, taking a deep breath, releasing it with an exasperated puff. “And I got to say, that is most frustrating thing I’ve ever had to watch. Both of you are stubborn and don’t realize what you have right now could be something more.”

Natasha was speechless. Something more? With Steve? She just stared at Sarah, not knowing what to say.

Sarah sighed at the sight of Natasha looking clueless. “Natasha, do you really not see it? Or are you just refusing to acknowledge it?” Sarah asked her, although Natasha knew it was more of a rhetorical question.

The thing is, she does see it. The frequent glances, the banter, and even the way he just seems happier when she’s around. Besides, subtly isn’t exactly Steve’s strongest point. The guy wears his heart on his sleeve for everyone with eyes to see. And anyone who spends at least 5 minutes around the two of them would be able to tell that Steve practically looks at Natasha with heart eyes.

But Sarah is right. Natasha is refusing to acknowledge it. She’s scared, okay? She’s used to every good thing in her life being taken away from her. And Steve? Steve’s the best thing that’s happened to her (well, and Clint too).

She can’t manage to lose him - doesn’t want to lose him. She really tried not to, but she’s starting to depend on him, on his presence. Like how his constant soothing words everytime she found herself to be in a bad place - nightmares, flashbacks - would be enough to bring her back to reality, to herself. The way he just seems to make her forget her past, the red in her ledger.

“Natasha?” Sarah called out. Natasha’s eyes snapped back to meet hers and she looks a little concerned. “Don’t overthink it. You care about him, and he cares about you. A lot. Now, just listen to what your heart wants, I think it’ll help lead you two in the right direction.” She smiled softly and reached out to grasp Natasha’s hand. “Now, go back there and you’ll figure it out. Thank you for being there for my son.”

Then darkness overtook her.

Natasha awoke with a start. She tried to take a deep breath, but was met with pain instead. She has a pair of breathing support tubes in her nose that is probably breathing for her. Frowning, she tried to look around - as best as she could, anyway, she felt so sore - and found a mop of blonde hair on her right side. She can immediately tell that it’s Steve, and he looks fast asleep, bent at a weird angle from the chair he was sitting in. His head was resting on top of his crossed arms, with one of his hands clutching Natasha’s.

Based on the ceiling and lights around her, she’s in a room that’s not quite an actual hospital room, but is set to look like one; with machines plugged in around her and it looks familiar. Pausing to think for a moment, she realized this must be one of SHIELD’s clandestine facilities, which she’s been to in some other regions in the country, like the underground one Fury recovered in. They probably couldn’t risk taking her to an actual hospital in case they get caught.

Steve stirred a couple of seconds later, most likely sensing she was awake based on her moving her head. Well, she and Steve has always been attuned to each other, so it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt that she was awake through no other means but his gut.

He looked startled for a moment, eyes still unfocused as they met Natasha’s, who already has a smile playing on her lips. “Hi soldier,” she croaked out. It was meant to be teasing but it turns out she barely has a voice. Which reminds her, she needs water. Her throat felt like cardboard.

Steve looked stunned. He remained silent for a couple of more seconds until breathing out a long sigh. “Oh thank god,” she heard him mutter before he ducked his head down and she felt him kiss her hand. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I’m so happy you’re awake, Nat. We were so worried…” he trailed off, looking at her intently, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. In any other circumstances, Natasha would’ve teased him about this, but right now, she can only widen her smile and feel her cheeks heat up a bit.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice still low. Steve raised his eyebrow at the way she sounded, and seemed to get the clue that she needed water. He held up a hand and reached down, taking a bottle of water and straw from what she guessed was his bag under the bed. He let her hand go as he uncapped it, put the straw in, and held it up in front of her to drink. Natasha sipped from the straw as quickly as she could, and in just a few seconds, she finished the bottle. Steve let out a small chuckle and put it away, sitting back down, and grasping her hand in his again.

“Hm, where do I even start? It has been a tough week, Nat.” he said lightly, but there was a heaviness in his voice - something like resignation, weariness, and relief all at once.

“Wait, a week?” Natasha interjected. “I was out for a week?” Steve only nodded and Natasha gaped at him. No wonder he looked like a mess. And she feels like a mess.

“Yeah. We nearly,” she heard his voice waver, but he continued, “lost you. A couple of times too,” Steve cleared his throat, blinking quickly. “If you were leaning a little bit more to your right…” Steve trailed off, shaking his head. Natasha knew what he meant, based on the tubes on her nose and chest. “Fury had you transported here, ASAP. He sent Sam the coordinates as soon as he mentioned you were shot. Badly.” Steve sighed.

“But did you get the intel?” Natasha asked after Steve paused. As soon as she asked that, though, she knew it was the wrong question.

Steve stared at her and frowned. Natasha had to stop herself from grinning. He looked so much like Sarah had been in her vision, but she didn’t want to tell him that right now. “Nat. Did you not hear what I just said? You almost died, I couldn’t care less about some damn intel,” he scowled.

“I’m sorry…” Natasha muttered, feeling guilty. Sarah’s words echoed in her mind. He cares about you. A lot. “I’m just worried that-”

“- We wouldn’t get the intel we need, yes, I know that,” Steve cut her off and finished her train of thought. Natasha stayed quiet. “But Nat, you have to understand, you mean so much more to us, to me,” he emphasized, and Natasha’s eyes widened fractionally, “than some piece of information,” his grip on her hand was getting tighter with each word.

Natasha didn’t say anything and just looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Come here,” she motioned for him to come closer to her. Throwing her a puzzled look, Steve stood up to move his seat closer and leaned over her. Natasha used her free hand to pull him down by tugging his shirt, and clashed their lips together.

It seemed like it took Steve a few moments to realize what was happening since he just froze and Natasha moved her hand from his shirt to the back of his head, pressing him down harder. He finally came to his senses at this, and started to kiss her back, closing his eyes. Knowing that Natasha probably doesn’t have the strength, he adjusted himself so she doesn’t have to pull him down, and put his arm on the bed to brace himself over her.

The kiss, which started out innocent and slow, became more heated as months of pent up desire overcame them. Steve poured out all his worry and concern and relief into it, relishing into the fact that she’s here and she’s alive. Natasha was taking it all, gripping into his shirt and resisting the urge to pull him closer. There are still tubes connecting her to machines and she wouldn’t want him to pull on those.

“So are you ever going to tell us she woke up or are you going to wait until after your honeymoon before doing so?” A teasing voice made Steve suddenly jump up and pull away from Natasha. Sam was leaning by the already-opened door frame, a smirk plastered on his face. Wanda was right behind him, face split into a huge grin.

Steve was at a loss for words and can feel that his face is probably matching the red of his uniform. “I- uh,” he looked at Natasha for help, but she just had a smug look on, looking back at Sam and Wanda. “Um, why didn’t you knock?” Steve finally managed to let out.

“We did,” Wanda answered, moving in front of Sam and into the room. “But no one answered. We thought you two were both still sleeping so we let ourselves in,” she explained.

“But turns out, it was a different kind of sleeping,” Sam said with a wink. “You were supposed to call a doctor when she woke up!” he reminded Steve.

“Oh. Um, doctor, yes,” Steve repeated, blinking, looked at the headboard above Natasha and pressed a button.

“However, I am glad you two finally figured it out,” Wanda mentioned, sitting at the chair on Natasha’s other side.

“Figured it out?” Steve asked, tilting his head at her.

“Oh, we had helped,” Natasha answered, reaching for Steve’s hand and locking her fingers with his. He looked down at her, still looking confused, but she just smiled broadly at him. She knows their relationship is about to become something more.

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serenlyss · 6 years ago

Text

Linger

Rating: T (psychological trauma, heavy topics, vomit) Pairings: Terumob Summary: Shigeo knows that something about him has changed, and not in a good way. He knows when his fingers start to itch, when he's sweating in a cold room, when he sometimes loses the ability to breathe right. He just can't figure out why, or how to fix it. After a week, he finally decides to ask for help. Crossposted to AO3: Linger

This ended up being really long but,, oh well. This is based wholly off the line in the anime where Mogami says the experience will be forever etched in his heart, an exploration of what kind of aftermath that kind of event could have on someone if it was the main focus of the story. I also just really wanted to write some considerate/caring Teru bc he's one of my favorite characters and I love him. Hope you enjoy! This was beta read by @thedeadgodlives, thanks a bunch for your help!

Shigeo’s pencil scratches against the lined paper of his notebook, working out a difficult math problem his teacher had assigned to him the previous school day. His head is leaning on his open hand, fingers digging into his hair and pressing against his scalp as though it will help him think easier. He hums to himself, pausing as he reaches a point in the problem where he can no longer remember the steps to solving it.

He’s never been good at math, but even after years of struggling the nervousness and fear of failure never gets any better. He rolls his pencil between his fingers restlessly, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he fights to remember his teacher’s instructions. It’s no use, he laments after a moment. He’ll have to search his textbook later for the directions. He hopes his teacher doesn’t call on him in class; he’d surely make a fool of himself in front of his classmates.

The fingers holding his pencil tingle, and he pauses in his fiddling. The sensation is familiar to him now, but he still can’t figure out where it’s coming from or why it’s happening. The tingle grows into an incessant itch until he can no longer ignore it. He sets down his pencil, rubbing his fingers together in an attempt to make the itch go away, but it isn’t working. It never has, not since he first started experiencing the itching a week ago. He scratches at his fingers with the nail on his thumb, frowning at his itchy fingers disapprovingly.

Shaking his head, Shigeo returns to his homework, but his focus has been broken. The itch in his hand multiplies and spreads to his other hand, which twitches against his scalp in response. He straightens up in his seat, pressing both hands palm-down on his desk. The sensation lingers in his fingertips, but no matter how he scratches them, the itch doesn’t go away. It’s distracting and annoying, and it’s keeping him from doing his work.

With a disgruntled huff of breath, he pushes himself to his feet and slips out of his tidy bedroom, heading for the bathroom at the end of the hall. He runs the tap hot and lets his hands hover beneath the stream of water, washing away the sickening sensation that clings to them. He leaves them there until the heat of the water becomes too much for him to handle, hissing out a pained breath as he feels his skin scald. He quickly jerks them back, turning the water off and drying his hands on the bathroom towel. He looks up at his reflection in the mirror. He’s paler than usual, he notices, and there’s sweat beading on his brow despite the comfortable temperature of his house. He scrubs it away with the towel, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. When had his heart started beating so quickly? He swallows down the lump in his throat, carefully folding and replacing the towel as though it had never been touched at all.

He’s not sure what’s wrong with him, exactly, but he recognizes that it probably isn’t supposed to be happening. He doesn’t like to dwell on it, because then his thoughts start to race to places where he can’t control them, places where he’s still trapped in Mogami’s mindscape, fighting for his life in a completely different way than he’s grown accustomed to.

But he isn’t there anymore. He’s home, he’s safe, it’s over.

He repeats the thoughts in his head like a mantra. You’re home, you’re safe, it’s over. The tingling in his fingers is gone, and his heartbeat goes back to it’s regular speed. He feels like he could probably fall asleep now despite the fact that it’s the middle of the day. He still has homework to finish, though, so he returns to his desk and slips back into his chair.

As he attempts the math problem once more, he wonders if his classmates are struggling with the concepts as much as he is. His tongue feels dry. If he keeps making a fool of himself in class, they’ll keep pushing him around, calling him stupid and useless and spilling things on him. They might even try to hurt him, if they’re feeling particularly cruel that day, and he has no way of defending himself without his-

He lets out a gasp, shaking his head. His classmates had never done such things to him. They mostly ignore him, or at best, tolerate his presence. Sure, they laugh when he’s unable to answer the teacher’s question, but they’ve never done anything outright cruel to him, at least not to his face.

His head hurts. He scrubs at his face with both hands, groaning softly. His head feels foggy and his mind is racing, trying to reconcile two polarizing images of the same group of people he’s known since he was in grade school. It isn’t the first time he’s confused himself with conflicting memories, and every time it never fails to give him a splitting headache. He needs painkillers, and something to distract him from his unsettling thoughts.

His hand moves to pick up his phone as if on instinct, and before he knows it he’s opening up his text app in search of someone to reach out to. He pauses, fingers hovering over the keys. Hesitating. Reigen always gives good advice in times like these, but he’ll pry in deeper than Shigeo is willing to divulge. Ritsu, maybe? No, he’s still at school at this time, talking with the student council. He’s not sure Ritsu would be very good at taking his mind off of things, anyway.

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’s holding, Shigeo punches in Hanazawa Teruki’s contact. Yes, Teru would know what to do to take his mind off of things. He sends a quick, simple message: “Hello, Hanazawa. Are you busy?”

He keeps his messages brief and polite, refraining from using phrases that may come across as too friendly or overbearing. Teru’s never been one to take the professional route, though, and his reply comes a minute later.

“Hey, Kageyama! :D Ah, you could say so. I’m working on some homework for a class. Why, did you need something?”

A small smile comes to Shigeo’s face. Teru’s friendly tone is easy to respond to, and the emojis he always includes are an easy way for Shigeo to deduce how he’s feeling. Not to mention, they’re quite cute. “Ah, sorry to bother you, then. I was just wondering if you had time to hang out, but if you’re busy, then I understand,” he types in response, curt and apologetic.

“Don’t apologize! I should really take a break anyway,” Reads Teru’s text. “I’d love to hang out, actually! :) If you have some homework, why don’t we work on it together? You can come over to my place and keep me company.”

Shigeo’s gaze flicks to his half-filled notebook page. “Are you good at math?” he asks.

Teru’s reply is immediate. “I do well enough. I can help you with it if you like, as long as you help me with my japanese in return.”

Shigeo’s fairly confident that he can at least help a little bit when it comes to Japanese, so he agrees quickly to the arrangement and tells Teru that he’ll be over shortly. He packs up his school supplies and changes out of his uniform, trading his black slacks and jacket for a tee-shirt and jeans. He leaves his room and heads downstairs to walk over to the train station, bidding his mother goodbye with a promise to stay safe on his way.

The trip is quick and easy, nothing eventful getting in his way as he turns toward Teru’s apartment from the station. He’s only been there a handful of times, including the few hours he’s spent resting there after Ritsu was kidnapped by Claw, but he’s memorized the stop he needs to exit from and the route he takes to arrive at Teru’s front door.

Teru’s quick to answer when Shigeo knocks softly, greeting him with a smile and a wave. “Hi, Kageyama. Come on in and have a seat,” he says, stepping aside and holding the door open for Shigeo to move past him.

“Thanks for having me,” he says politely, slipping off his shoes and leaving them by the door like he always does when he comes over. He makes his way over to Teru’s living room, where his friend has already taken up shop to work on his own homework. There’s a textbook open on the coffee table beside his workbook, and an empty mug with the last dregs of a sweet-smelling tea in it. Shigeo sits down on the couch while Teru steeps another batch of the tea, a common routine for the two of them when they study together. He pulls his notebook out of his backpack and sets it up beside Teru’s, fetching a pencil from a side pocket to write with.

Teru joins him shortly after, a steaming cup in each hand, and sets one in front of Shigeo.

“Ah, thank you,” Shigeo murmurs, taking a tentative sip of the hot drink.

Teru flashes him a smile and plops down next to him, leaving just a few inches of space between them for their arms to move. Teru has always been the kind of person who likes to casually touch his friends, as far as Shigeo can tell, quick to guide him with a hand on his back or a congratulatory squeeze of his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch when their arms brush or their hands touch accidentally, and he’s quick to loop an arm around his shoulders or lean against him when he’s feeling tired. Shigeo doesn’t mind the constant contact, and Teru seems appreciative of his receptiveness, so when he lays an arm across the back of the couch behind Shigeo’s shoulders, he doesn’t react or draw attention to it. Instead he focuses on his math work, determined to solve the problem he’s stuck on.

Teru’s quick to jump in and help him, praising him for what he’s done correctly and gently pointing out his mistakes. Teru isn’t at all like his teachers or classmates, Shigeo realizes as he listens to Teru’s instructions. He moves at a pace Shigeo can easily keep up with and doesn’t berate him for not understanding right away, and he’s endlessly grateful for his friend’s innate understanding of him.

“Thank you, Hanazawa, this all makes much more sense now,” Shigeo says once they’ve gone through a few problems together. He turns to smile at Teru, setting down his pencil and letting his hands fall to his sides.

Teru’s face goes slightly pink, but the pleased smile on his face shows his gratitude at Shigeo’s words. “Anytime, Kageyama. There’s no better way to learn than by teaching someone else. At least, that’s what my math teacher always says,” he replies, reaching up with one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

His hair is getting longer again, Shigeo notices. He hums, thoughtful, and reaches out with a hand to brush aside a strand that’s fallen into Teru’s eyes. His fingers graze Teru’s temple as he does, feeling an annoying little zap at the miniscule contact. It’s not enough to make him flinch, but it’s noticeable nonetheless.

Teru doesn’t move away from his touch, but the blush on his cheeks darkens some, and he glances away in an almost embarrassed fashion. “Ah, it’s getting a bit long, isn’t it? I cut it short after our fight, but I’ve been growing it out since then. I kinda miss wearing it long,” he says, rambling a bit, but Shigeo doesn’t mind. Teru’s always been more of a talker than he is.

“It looks nice,” Shigeo compliments, letting his hand fall back to the couch again. He turns his attention back toward his homework, nearly finished now, as Teru falls quiet.

The other boy doesn’t respond, going back to his own work, but a moment later Shigeo feels bold fingers brush against the hand that rests between them, cautiously slotting themselves between his own.

The touch burns like fire almost immediately, seeping into his skin with jolts of white-hot electricity that stab up his arm and make his mind scream, Don’t touch me!

He rips his hand away with a pained gasp, holding it against his chest. The searing heat continues to spread, making his arms quiver against his control and causing his stomach to turn. He feels queasy and hot as the burn spreads to his head and he breaks into a sweat.

“I-I’m sorry,” Teru stammers, quickly retracting his hand. Shigeo’s head jerks to look at him. He looks incredibly guilty and a little mortified, actively leaning out of Shigeo’s space when he normally would lean in. “I just thought - I mean, it seemed like - ugh, what did I do?” He tears his gaze away, clasping his hands together as if to punish them for wandering.

Shigeo opens his mouth to reassure his friend that it’s alright, it’s not his fault, that there’s something wrong with himself that had caused a misunderstanding, but the words die in his throat. His tongue feels thick and dry, his throat thinner and hoarser with each passing second. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

He stands up in a hurry and makes a beeline for Teru’s bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him as he struggles to take a meaningful breath. His fingers burn terribly, the sensation making his stomach roll. He gags on his own choppy gasps, bracing his hands on the marble countertop around the sink and leaning over it in case he really does throw up. He feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest, and his lungs burn, as though there’s no oxygen in the air to replenish them. His face is pale and he’s begun sweating profusely, his forehead damp and cold to the touch. With a start he realizes that he’s crying, tears rolling down his cheeks and falling into the sink. His knees wobble, and his stomach does another nauseating flip. He barely manages to fall to his knees in front of the toilet before he’s heaving up the contents of that day’s breakfast and lunch into it.

There’s a knock at the door. “Kageyama? Are you alright?” Teru asks from behind the door, voice thick with concern.

Shigeo’s voice continues to evade him, stomach heaving once more, but there’s nothing left to throw up. He gags, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m coming in,” Teru warns. Shigeo hasn’t locked the door behind him, and it swings open with urgency. In a second Teru is at his side, a steady hand on his back. “Kageyama! You look terrible, what happened?” he frets, reaching across Shigeo’s back to tear a strip of toilet paper from the roll. He holds it out to him.

Shigeo draws in a shuddering breath, his shaky hands grasping the toilet’s rim so tightly his knuckles have gone white. After a moment he detaches one hand from it and takes the wad of paper from Teru’s outstretched hand, opening his eyes. His vision is fuzzy, black spots dancing at his periphery. Am I going to faint? he wonders with a flash of fear. He manages to wipe the edges of his mouth with the toilet paper, but his breath tastes like bile and his head feels like it’s going to burst. “Teru, I-I think I’m really sick,” he manages to choke out, voice shaky to the point of unintelligibility and thick with misery.

Teru takes the paper from Shigeo’s hand and drops it in the toilet, flushing away the evidence. Then he grasps him firmly by both shoulders and turns him so they’re facing each other. “You’re not sick, you’re panicking,” he says, reaching up with one hand to push Shigeo’s sweat-slicked bangs out of his face. His eyes flicker back and forth across Shigeo’s face, brows furrowed in unhidden concern. “You’re hyperventilating,” he realizes worriedly, biting his lower lip. “Try breathing with me, okay? In, and out…” Odd. Shigeo doesn’t feel like he’s breathing at all.

Teru holds his gaze as he repeats himself, over and over, and Shigeo fights to match his tempo. Teru’s thumb presses against the front of his shoulder and rubs small circles just beneath his collarbone, offering some sort of stimulation to distract him from his racing thoughts. Shigeo clasps his hands over his knees and digs his fingers in, the sensation keeping his vision from fuzzing out entirely.

He isn’t sure how long the two of them sit on the cold tile floor for, Teru murmuring words of reassurance to Shigeo as he fights to control his rapid breathing, but eventually the dark spots fade and the throbbing in his head goes down enough to let him think again. His face is slick from sweat, but his hands have stopped burning, a faint tingle all that remains.

Teru stands up and releases his hold on Shigeo, wetting a rag with cold water from the tap above them. Shigeo’s breathing stalls for a split second at the loss of contact before starting back up again, unsure what to do until Teru kneels in front of him again and presses the cold cloth to his face. The sting of it shocks Shigeo to his senses, his hands twitching involuntarily. “Cold,” he gasps.

Teru chuckles, using the wet rag to mop away the sweat that clings to Shigeo’s forehead. “It’ll make you feel better,” he assures, holding the cloth against the back of his neck.

Shigeo lets out a breathy sigh as the rag cools his overheated face and neck and makes him feel overall a little less sticky and gross. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“It’s no problem. I, uh, know what it feels like,” Teru admits with a smile, and it’s so soft and sincere and caring that Shigeo almost does a double-take. “Still, you gave me a scare. What happened?”

Shigeo glances down, focusing on the fading coldness on the back of his neck. He doesn’t answer, but not because he doesn’t want to tell Teru what’s been going on. He simply doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words.

Thankfully, Teru seems to pick up on his thoughts. “Well, there’s no need to force yourself,” he says, removing the rag from Shigeo’s neck and setting it on the bathroom counter. He pushes himself to his feet. “Do you want to use my shower? It always helps me to feel better when I’m feeling overwhelmed, plus it’s good for thinking. I’ll lend you something clean to wear, too, so you don’t have to stay in those sweaty clothes.” He extends a hand out for Shigeo to take, then his smile falters and he appears to think better of it. He swallows visibly, curling his arm up toward his chest as a form of recoil. Shigeo doesn’t blame him, after the way he’d reacted to the last time they’d touched hands.

Shigeo tears his gaze away from Teru’s hand and looks down at himself as Teru mentions his clothes, flinching at his bedraggled appearance. There’s sweat stains in the pits of his white tee-shirt and, horrifyingly, a few spots of vomit that hadn’t quite hit the mark. He bites back what he wants to say, an instinctive reassurance that he’s fine and doesn’t need to be taken care of anymore, and instead just nods his head. “That sounds like a good idea,” he sighs.

“Great. I’ll grab you a change of clothes, then, and a fresh towel,” Teru says, pretending his little misstep hadn’t occurred at all. “You can use my shampoo and stuff if you want, I doubt you’ll use as much as I always do.” He laughs at his own words, turning to the door, but it comes across nervous. “Be right back,” he adds as an afterthought, pulling the door half-shut behind him to offer some semblance of privacy.

Shigeo takes a deep breath and hauls himself to his feet, using the edge of the counter as leverage. He still feels a bit shaky on his feet, but as least he doesn’t feel like he’s going to keel over and pass out anymore. He runs the tap water cold, scrubbing his hands briefly with Teru’s citrusy soap, and feels the last remnants of the burning sensation disappear as the water washes them away. He lets out a breath of relief at the return to semi-normalcy, though he’s still pale and a little uncertain on his feet. He splashes some of the cold water on his face for good measure before turning off the tap.

Teru returns, silently pushing open the bathroom door, as Mob is drying his face. He has a fluffy gray towel draped over his arm, along with the promised change of clothes. “These should fit you, I hope,” he says, setting them in a neat pile atop the kitchen counter. Then he holds the towel out to Shigeo. “Here, you can use this. Just hang it up on the hook once you’re finished so it can dry.” He nods his head toward the hook that protrudes from the inside of the bathroom door.

Shigeo manages a small smile, accepting the towel from Teru’s outstretched hand. “Of course. Thanks again, Hanazawa,” he says. “I’ll make it up to you soon.”

“Don’t worry about things like that. We’re friends, so there’s no need to keep track of favors,” Teru assures with a wave of his hand. He steps out of the bathroom to give Shigeo some space. “I’m going to work on some more homework while you shower, so just come find me when you’re done, okay?”

Shigeo nods in agreement and Teru closes the door behind him with a parting smile, leaving Shigeo alone with the shower.

He takes advantage of Teru’s offer to use his shampoo, scrubbing the salty sweat from his hair and filling the misty air with the scent of Teru’s fruity hair products. He pushes his bangs away with his fingers and cranes his neck back, letting the warm water pelt his face and return color to his cheeks. He takes deep breaths, letting his thoughts wander. He obviously owes Teru an explanation for his unexpected outburst, but he still isn’t entirely sure what had caused it. He glances down at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. Ever since his encounter with Mogami, he hasn’t been able to touch anyone else without feeling like he’s been scorched by an open flame. His hands had it the worst, he’d determined. That’s not even counting the times he’s found himself staring at the throats of his classmates, his mind flashing back to the student he’d nearly asphyxiated in Mogami’s monochromatic world.

Taking a breath, Shigeo lifts a hand and lightly covers his own throat. He can distinctly remember the feeling of Teru’s fingers digging into his flesh, squeezing until no air could pass in or out. His touch had left no bruises at the time, Shigeo’s body hyper-durable as a result of his psychic powers, but the memory is still there. He’d long forgiven Teru for their fight, to the point where he hardly thought back on the event anymore, at least before Mogami. Since then the thought has come up more and more often, as he recalls his imaginary classmate’s terrified eyes and gasping breaths. Did I sound like that, when Teru attacked me? he wonders, frowning.

Teru… he’d have to apologize properly for the way he’d reacted. In truth, he’d kind of wanted to hold his hand. He’d been curious about it for a while now, actually, since the two of them had infiltrated and subsequently escaped the Claw 7th division headquarters and Teru had proven himself to be a loyal and dependable friend. He caught himself staring, sometimes, at Teru’s face, at his back, his hands, a quiet curiosity he wasn’t bold enough to act on, but that was always there. What would Teru do if he decided to hug him, or reach for his hand? Would he even be able to without feeling the fire burning him?

He turns off the water after several minutes of simply standing under the hot spray, toweling himself off. He slips into Teru’s lent clothes, a soft pink sweater and comfortable gray sweats, chuckling softly. Even now, Teru was trying his best to take care of him. He appreciates his friend’s experience and comforting presence, but he knows he has a hard conversation ahead of him. He uses the towel to soak up the extra water from his hair until it’s damp instead of dripping, then hangs it up on the hook behind the door to dry. Then he cracks open the bathroom door and slips outside, leaving it open to ventilate the mist.

When he pads, barefoot, out of the bathroom, he spots Teru sitting back on the couch, staring at his open notebook. He’s not holding a pencil, though, and his leg bounces restlessly. He looks up as Shigeo exits. “Ah, you’re finished. Do you feel better now?” he asks with that familiar soft smile.

Shigeo swallows and nods, already feeling his nervousness bubbling up as he crosses the room to take his seat beside Teru once again. “Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for troubling you,” he replies.

Teru shakes his head. “It isn’t your fault. You had a panic attack, and a pretty bad one at that. Those things are out of our control.”

Shigeo clasps his hands together. “So, you get them, too?” he asks softly.

“Sometimes.” Teru looks down at his empty tea mug. “I’ve learned how to cope with them, to an extent. Have you had one before?”

Shigeo hums, then nods, remembering how he’d felt the burning in his fingers just that afternoon. At the time he hadn’t been able to place what was wrong, but it fit in hindsight, now that Teru had explained it to him. “Never as bad as that, but sometimes my hands get really hot and shaky, and I get pale and sweaty, and it’s hard to breath for a while. When that happens, I always wash my hands with hot water and it goes away. This time was… the worst one, so far,” he admits. “I’m sorry I reacted so badly to you touching me.”

Teru chokes on a nervous chuckle, which turns into a brief cough. He clears his throat into his hand. “Ah, I shouldn’t have done that without permission. It was just an urge, I suppose. You obviously didn’t like it though, so I won’t do it again, I promise,” he says, but he can’t stop the hints of disappointment that come through as he speaks.

Shigeo shakes his head quickly. “No, I didn’t dislike it,” he assures. “I normally don’t mind when you touch me, I even like it most of the time. I just haven’t really… been myself lately, I suppose.” He unclasps his fingers and stares down at his open palms, frowning. “When you touched my hand, it felt like it was burning. Other times, when I’ve felt panicked, my hands will start itching until I can’t take it anymore. Like when a mosquito bites you, but far worse. It’s only my hands, too. When Master grabs my shoulder or something like that, it doesn’t have the same effect.”

Teru looks concerned to hear this, but there’s some relief in his face too, that Shigeo hasn’t completely rejected his touch. “When did this start happening?” he asks.

“It’s been about a week,” Shigeo admits softly. He fiddles with the soft edge of his borrowed sweater to give his hands something to do. “Ever since I defeated Mogami Keiji.”

Teru’s eyes widen at the name; Shigeo’s told him about Mogami’s psychic powers and the world he’d lived in for six months, but at the time he’d played it off as something that was over, finished. As it would appear, it isn’t over at all. “Did something happen in there that’s making you panic? A bad experience, or something he said to you?” His voice is edging on protective, Shigeo realizes, and the thought is oddly comforting. What isn’t comforting, however, is the realization that he’ll have to describe what he’d done.

He falls quiet for several seconds, but Teru is patient, and doesn’t push him for answers before he’s ready. Shigeo is grateful. Teru is trustworthy, he knows, and he’s sure that he won’t think any less of him for something that technically never really happened, but that doesn’t keep the doubts from coming. Shigeo can feel his headache resurfacing as he struggles to tell himself that, yeah, it wasn’t something he’d actually done with his own two hands. His body had been in Reigen and Dimple’s care at the time, but in the moment it had felt very real. “I think I almost killed someone, in Mogami’s dream land,” he confesses, the words heavy on his tongue. “They were bullying me, telling me I was stupid and worthless and terrible. I just felt so angry.” He pauses to take a breath, trying not to ramble, but the words don’t stop coming. “I know it wasn’t a real place, and I was being influenced by an evil spirit, but those are still choices that I made, I think. Sometimes my memories from that world bleed out into this one and I catch myself being scared of my classmates, wondering when they’re going to beat me up next or what horrible things they’re saying when I’m not around. To be honest, I-I can’t tell my real memories apart from the ones Mogami created for me. My heart knows what’s real, but my head gets all fuzzy and my memories get all jumbled up and then I get a really bad headache and nothing gets solved at all.”

As if on cue, Shigeo feels his head throb painfully, and he stifles a pained noise, wincing.

“Sounds like you’ve had a rough time,” Teru says, but there’s an uncertainty to his voice that says he really has no idea what Shigeo’s talking about. He stands up and moves into the kitchen, rifling around in one of the cabinets. Shigeo doesn’t blame him for not understanding. He doubts many others have had an experience like he has, and if they had, they likely hadn’t lived through it.

“I had thought it was over,” he sighs, pausing as his head gives another painful throb. “It’s been a week, Hanazawa. I feel like it should be in the past now.” He leans his forehead into one hand, the other falling limp on his lap, palm skyward.

Teru returns, pressing a bottle into Shigeo’s free hand. He’s careful not to let their skin touch, which Shigeo is simultaneously grateful and disappointed about. He doesn’t want Teru to distance himself over something that shouldn’t even be happening, but, well, he wasn’t left with much of a choice. Teru sets a cup of water on the table in front of him and says, “Take two.”

Shigeo blinks, glancing at the label on the bottle. Painkillers. Relieved, he untwists the bottle’s cap and shakes two bright red pills out of it, setting it aside and picking up the cup. He downs both pills with one swig of water. “Thank you, I think I needed that,” he sighs.

Teru hums to show he’s heard, but he’s deep in thought. “I’m no therapist, Kageyama, but I think what you experienced classifies as trauma, maybe even PTSD,” he says after a moment of quiet. “It’s obviously had a prolonged effect on your body, and your mind. That kind of thing can cause panic attacks like the one you had. To be honest, I’m not sure there's much I can do to help you with that.”

Shigeo sighs, slumping over in his seat. “I don’t know where else to go,” he says softly. “I know there’s something wrong with me, and that I should probably see a doctor, or-or a therapist, but what am I supposed to tell them that won’t make me sound like I’ve gone insane?” He pauses, takes a moment to breath before things get out of control again. “I think, if I can create a divide between what’s real and what happened in my dream, some of these symptoms will go away, but I don’t know how to do that by myself.”

Teru leans back in his seat, worrying his lip between his teeth for a moment. Then he blinks, eyes bright, and sits straight up again. “Why don’t we make a game out of it?” he suggests. “Tell me something that happened, it doesn’t matter where the memory comes from. I’ll tell you if it’s real or not.” He grins at the idea, looking quite pleased with it.

Shigeo blinks. Could that really work? “What about the things I never told you about?” he asks. He and Teru talk often, whether it’s in person or via text, but there’s no way Teru will be able to dissect all his jumbled memories.

“Well, I’ll just have to admit defeat at that point, then,” Teru replies with a shrug, “but I think it’s worth a shot, if you’re willing to give it a try.”

Shigeo hums, mulling it over. It couldn’t hurt, as far as he can imagine. “Okay, let’s try it,” he agrees. He combs through his recent memories, searching for something he knows is true. “Um… I tried to run for student council once, but when it was time for me to speak, I didn’t say anything,” he begins.

“That’s true,” Teru says immediately. “That was when Emi asked you out.”

Shigeo smiles; it kind of feels like a quiz show. “Alright. I once exorcised a group of over fifteen bikers and their gang boss.”

“True,” Teru repeats. “You exorcised a huge evil spirit there too, right?”

Shigeo nods, chuckling softly. “It was big, but it wasn’t very strong,” he confirms. “Okay, next one, then… Sometimes, my classmates like to hit me for fun.”

Teru’s smile falters at this, obviously put off a bit by the morbid tone, but plays along for the sake of the game. “No, that’s false. Your classmates mostly don’t pay attention to you at all.”

Shigeo lets out a relieved breath. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says. Logically, he’d always known the difference between Mogami’s harsh reality and his own privileged life, but something within him felt validated that someone else could also make the distinction. “Why don’t you do one, Hanazawa?”

“Me?” Teru echoes in surprise. “Hmm, I guess I can try to trick you with a lie.” He taps his chin with one finger, searching for something to say. “When I was a kid, I used to look for coins on the school playground and collect them in a little jar.”

Shigeo’s face splits into a smile. “Ah, I remember you talking about that. It’s true,” he says. “Okay, my turn. When my brother sees me in trouble, he sometimes avoids getting involved to protect himself.”

Teru shakes his head. “No way, Ritsu is way too protective of you to ever do that,” he says. “False.” He fixes Shigeo with his dark blue gaze, growing more confident in his answers. “I broke off my connection to Blake Vinegar’s gang after you beat me in a fight,” he says, leaning forward in his seat.

Shigeo nods. “It was one of the first things you did.”

Teru’s eyebrows raise and he sports a devious grin. “Oh? Who says I’m not still controlling them from the shadows?” he challenges.

Shigeo doesn’t answer, but after a moment they both devolve into fits of uncontrollable giggling. It’s good to know that they can joke about those days without feeling like it’s bringing up bad memories. Rather, the incident merely marks the start of their friendship. “I can’t imagine you doing things like that now,” he says. “You’ve changed a lot, Hanazawa.”

Teru’s laughter turns more self-conscious at Shigeo’s compliment, but he’s clearly pleased to be told so. “Yeah? I’m glad. You’ve changed quite a bit yourself, Kageyama. In a good way,” he replies, and the pink flush is back.

Shigeo finds himself staring at it, somewhat distracted. “True or false,” he begins, voice softening. “You and I are friends in both worlds.”

Teru blinks. “I don’t know,” he replies, “but we’re definitely friends in this one, so that’s what’s important.”

Shigeo nods, accepting this. He shifts a touch closer to Teru, fiddling with the fingers on one of his hands. His leg and Teru’s are nearly touching. “You and I broke into the Claw 7th Division headquarters after Ritsu was kidnapped.”

“That’s true,” Teru replies, glancing at Shigeo curiously. He’s noticed the way Shigeo is inching closer, as though he has a purpose behind wanting to be so close.

He reaches out and brushes the back of his knuckles against the side of Teru’s hand experimentally, catching the hitch in Teru’s breathing when they make contact. Unpleasant sparks poke at his skin where it touches Teru’s, and he draws back quickly, thoughtful. Teru has his eyes fixed on him, concerned but curious. He continues, “Sometimes I come to your school to walk you to my apartment for our study sessions.”

Shigeo nods. His reaches out again, this time touching with the pads of his fingers. He lets the touch linger, and Teru doesn’t move, frozen in place. Shigeo draws a sharp breath, wincing. Electric shocks sting his fingertips, but the heat is bearable for a few seconds before he feels like he needs to retreat. When he finally does, he says, “That’s true.”

“Yeah, it is,” Teru agrees, breathless. Shigeo stares at his fingers, eyebrows furrowed, and catches Teru turn over his hand in his periphery, his palm facing toward the ceiling. “Once, I even went back to your house, and we did homework in your room instead. Your mom wouldn’t leave us alone, and kept asking if we wanted snacks.”

Shigeo cracks a smile at this, and when his hand ventures out this time, he presses his palm against Teru’s and just lets them rest on top of each other. He tenses, hot needles poking into the surface of his palm. He curls his fingers around Teru’s hand and squeezes it, willing the sensation to disappear. I control my own life, he reminds himself firmly, and doesn’t let go despite the occasional stab of discomfort in his palm. He feels the heat spread upward, sweat beading at his hairline, but he doesn’t feel like he’s panicking, so he doesn’t let go.

Teru shifts his grip, emboldened, and slots their fingers together.

Shigeo stumbles over his breath, eyes widening. The motion feels like two strips of sandpaper rubbing together, chafing him. Teru jolts, moving to disconnect their hands, but Shigeo stops him before he can go through with it, squeezing his hand tightly to prevent him from moving too far away.

He flinches as the burning sensation begins, crawling from his fingertips up his arm. “It hurts,” he grunts through clenched teeth, but he maintains his grip on Teru’s hand despite the way Teru moves once more to break the contact. He looks up and meets Teru’s dark blue gaze. “Wait, just a bit longer.”

Teru stares at him, fear and uncertainty in his gaze, but doesn’t force him to let go, just squeezes his hand back in an attempt to reassure him that all will be well. “I stole you away from a date so you could break up your little brother’s fight after he discovered his psychic powers,” he says, watching Shigeo carefully.

The boy chuckles under his breath, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He’s thankful that Teru can still find ways to lighten the mood, even though he’s clearly just as distraught as Shigeo is. “It wasn’t a date, I’ve told you that before,” he insists, calming some.

Eventually, thankfully, the burning sensation reaches a peak and then begins to wane. Shigeo feels the heat in his face go down with his timed breathing, and he relaxes the iron grip he’d been holding Teru’s hand with. He doesn’t let go, though, feeling the itchy tingles and occasional stabs of discomfort lingering. “Are you okay?” Teru asks, worried.

Shigeo nods, giving his hand a little squeeze and smiling at the little noise of surprise Teru makes. He coughs into his hand, though it doesn’t sound very convincing. “How do you feel?” he says after a moment.

Shigeo’s eyelids droop, but he continues to cradle Teru’s hand in his; his skin is soft and the way he holds his hand is endearingly gentle. “Itchy, but otherwise okay. I think it’s going away, for now,” he says, rubbing his thumb experimentally against Teru’s. Without warning, he drops his head to Teru’s shoulder, sighing out sofly, “Your hand is warm.”

Teru jumps slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxes into Shigeo’s touch the way he always does. “Good warm or bad warm?” he asks lamely, all his usual flirtatiousness and bravado and confidence blown out the window by one unpredictable Shigeo.

“Good warm,” Shigeo murmurs. “My head feels a bit clearer, too. I think the game worked, at least a little.” It hasn’t cleared up all his misgivings, and there are still plenty of jumbled memories in his head, but he’s starting to see the distinctions that separated the real world from the fabricated one, now that someone else has been able to reaffirm them. He bites back a yawn, humming sleepily. “That made me tired. I was already kind of drowsy from before I came over,” he says. The painkillers are starting to kick in, thankfully, dulling the pounding in his head and, interestingly, banishing the lingering itchiness from his hands.

Teru peers down at him through dark blue eyes. “Wow, you do look tired. Will you be alright getting home by yourself? Your house is pretty far away from here,” he points out. “Maybe you should just stay here for the night. It’s dangerous to fall asleep on the train, and I’d hate for you to end up lost.”

Shigeo hums noncommittally, drawing a chuckle from Teru’s lips. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. Don’t fall asleep yet, though, you need to tell your parents that you’re staying over. You don’t want to worry them, after all.”

Reluctantly, Shigeo sits up and picks up his phone from the coffee table. “Alright, I’ll give mom a call. Thanks for letting me stay, you’re probably right about falling asleep on the train. Honestly, I don’t know if I can keep my eyes open much longer.”

“I’ll make space in my room,” Teru says, standing up. He hesitates for a moment before untangling his fingers from Shigeo’s, then turns away before he can see his expression. “Er, be right back,” he adds, moving across the living room and disappearing into his bedroom.

Shigeo feels a flash of disappointment at the loss of contact. He likes holding hands with Teru, and he hopes his friend won’t be hesitant about touching him now. He doesn’t want to lose that contact. Shaking his head, he calls up his mother and tells her that he’ll be back the next morning. Thankfully, it’s a weekend, which means he doesn’t have to worry about waking up extra early to go home for his uniform, and his mother sounds almost excited to hear that he’s staying with a friend. Well, she’s always liked Teru. “Thanks, mom. Love you too, bye,” he says, and ends the call as Teru reemerges from his room.

“Okay, I know you’re tired,” Teru says, making his way over to where a small television is set up in the corner of the living room, “but hear me out. This is a sleepover now, which means we have to watch a movie.” He’s carrying a bunched-up, thick blanket in one arm, which he tosses onto the couch beside Shigeo. “If you’re up for it, of course. It’s an action movie.”

Well, Shigeo thinks, amused, I can’t say no to an action movie. It was his favorite genre, after all, so he nods in agreement. “Mmhmm, that’s okay. I might fall asleep during it, though,” he warns, if only so Teru doesn’t get offended.

Teru just smiles at him, popping the disk into his DVD player and turning on the television. “No problem,” he replies, moving back to the couch and taking his seat beside his friend. He takes the blanket and drapes it over both of them.

They sit close together as the intro to the movie begins, but Shigeo is quick to notice that Teru consciously avoids bumping into him by accident. He’s trying to be considerate, he knows, but it’s still a little frustrating that Teru was changing his typical behavior over concern. It’s nice of him to want to stay within Shigeo’s comfort zone, but it’s not what Shigeo wants him to do. After a few minutes of sitting quietly, Shigeo reaches over and takes Teru’s hand once more, linking their fingers together over top of the blanket. He scoots closer to make the action more comfortable, too, letting his side press against Teru’s so their linked hands lay atop his lap. He glances at Teru, searching for signs of discomfort, and instead finds Teru fighting an obviously pleased grin.

Smiling softly, he returns his attention to the movie. His hand feels normal, to his relief, and he’s fairly sure the painkillers Teru lent him are partly to thank for that. Even if it’s temporary, he basks in the feeling of Teru’s soft skin against his own, the way he idly rubs circles into his skin with his thumb. Despite the action happening on the tv screen, Shigeo finds his eyelids drooping within the first hour, lulled by the long day he’d had and Teru’s fond touch.

“Can I lay on you?” Shigeo asks, stifling a yawn behind his free hand as he turns to look at his… friend? He blinks, mind blanking. All of a sudden friend doesn’t feel like the right word. The thought knocks him so off-guard that he nearly misses Teru’s nod, a subtle action of consent.

“I don’t mind.”

Shigeo nods back, removing his hand from Teru’s light grasp and shifting away from him to make room. Teru looks confused about why he’s putting distance between them, but then Shigeo lowers himself down onto the couch and lays his head down on Teru’s lap.

It takes Teru a moment to relax into this new position, but he’s never been one to shy away from an affectionate touch. He moves one arm to the side of the couch and lets it rest there, his other hand hovering, unsure where to let it fall. After a moment, however, it finds a place at the back of Shigeo’s head, threading into his hair. His touch is calculated, experimental. Shigeo can tell he doesn’t want to go too far. “Is this okay?” Teru asks him in a soft voice, his fingers traveling down and brushing Shigeo’s bangs away from his forehead.

“Yes,” Shigeo replies, voice thick with weariness. He lets out a soft hum as Teru’s fingers grow more confident, drawing through his bangs and brushing over the skin of his scalp in feather-light touches. He closes his eyes, the movie forgotten. Part of him doesn’t want to sleep yet, wants to watch more of the movie, but Teru makes the decision for him. He removes his hand from Shigeo’s hair, and a moment later he feels the blanket being tucked around his shoulders and neck so it covers him completely. Then the hand returns to his hair, rhythmically brushing it away from his face as soft fingers trace his hairline and tickle the back of his neck.

In the soft, fuzzy space between wakefulness and sleep, he feels Teru bend over him and brush his lips over his temple, feather-soft and loving. They leave a warmth behind them, bringing a faint smile to Shigeo’s face as Teru’s soft caresses lull him into a quick and comfortable sleep.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #terumob #hanazawa teruki #kageyama shigeo #my writing #fanfic #panic attack #dissociation #vomiting #over 8000 words #oof thats longer than usual #worth it tho #i love considerate/caring teru #hes such a good kid #once you get past the superiority complex

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mell-bell · 8 years ago

Text

this is definitely practice (for raising our future children)

aka First Pet

THIS IS PART OF A SERIES. IT WILL MOST LIKELY MAKE SENSE BY ITSELF BUT JUST A FOREWARNING.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9

PART 10 PART 11 PART 12 PART 13

AO3

Cassian x Reader

Words: 2104

Series Summary: Cassian and Reader Firsts – from meeting each other to the first time, first kiss, first fight, first “I love you”, to their (first) last breaths (maybe…that might be too depressing)

Time Cassian and Reader have known each other: 1 year and 10 months

Chapter: 14/20

Prompt: Anonymous- “firsts” for cassian x reader please?!? (like first date, first kiss, first fight etc) :-))

Author’s notes: Alright so this is up early because I have work soon. I have an another unrelated fic that’ll be up tonight. Also, a few of you asked about if the Reader and Cassian had sex yet. The answer is yes they did! I just didn’t feel they I could do a whole sex scene chapter justice as quickly as I’ve been banging out these chapters. But after I finish up this series of 20 chapters I’m gonna do some bonus chapters (or literally just extend the series bc it’s looking like that may happen anyways) and I’m thinking I’ll do a “first time” chapter! Also if anyone wants to read any other particular “firsts” just send me a message and I’ll be glad to do it! Anyways hope you enjoy this chapter!

You woke up suddenly, your eyes blinking wildly in the dark. You groaned it was the middle of the night. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything through the room. But all you saw was darkness. Your hand flopped to your side expecting to hit Cassian, but the bed was empty.

A small squeak sounded behind you and you flipped around catching sight of Cassian scurrying out of the bathroom, shutting the door quickly.

“Cassian?” You muttered.

His head whipped around, his eyes wide and frantic. You sat up slowly taking in his fidgeting state in confusion.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Cassian ran over to you, “Nothing nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Meow.

Cassian began coughing loudly and your brows furrowed in suspicion, “What’s going on?”

“Noth-!” Meow.

You shot up and started towards the bathroom, flicking on the lights along the way. Cassian skidded in front of you, blocking your way.

“Alright alright. Just, please. Please.” He begged. You pushed him out of the way and opened the door.

A black blob shot out quickly bouncing around the room.

You froze and a moment of silence passed. “Cassian is that a cat?!”

“Um….maybe?”

You turned to him in disbelief, “Where did you get a cat? Why is it here? Do you really think we can keep that thing?”

“It’s not a thing,” Cassian said affronted, “It’s a she, and her name is Socks.”

“Socks?! You want to name our kitten Socks?!”

“Aha! So it is our kitten!”

“I…..it’s too late for this shit. I’m going back to bed. Find her and put her back in the bathroom until I can figure out what to do tomorrow.”

“We’re keeping her.”

You took in Cassian’s face and sighed, “Yes, of course. She’s ours now. But please Cassian, it’s 2 in the morning.”

Cassian smiled grabbing your face and pulling you in for a quick kiss before taking off after the hyper black blob.

You and Cassian had a cat now. A kitten to be exact. And she was a handful.

The first few days as Kitten Parents were interesting, to say the least. You and Cassian decided that letting Socks out of your room wasn’t a good idea. So you locked up her in your room. And she didn’t like that. She became antsy and testy, which made your life already crazy life more difficult.

Meow.

You groaned, rolling over and poking Cassian’s sleeping body, “Cassian it’s your turn.”

“No way I got up last night.” He mumbled into his pillow.

You scoffed, “Nice try.” You kicked him over to the bed and he fell to the ground with a thump, “That was me. Now scoot.”

Cassian stood up grumbling and trudged over to the bathroom to let Socks out.

Socks met people around the base in stages.

Somehow Socks kept escaping your room and you didn’t know how.

Socks Episode #1:

It had been a long day and you entered your room late at night. Cassian was sitting hunched over at his desk grumbling down at his mission report. You scurried over quickly dropping a kiss to his cheek before falling onto your bed with a sigh.

You screeched as your body made contact with something hard and sharp, and shot up quickly ripping back the covers.

“Um, Cassian?”

Cassian’s head snapped up, “What?“

“Is there a reason why there are 20 knives under our covers?”

Cassian’s brows furrowed, “Knives?”

You grabbed one and held it up for him to see.

“Oh. Knives.”

Meow.

Your head shot over to the corner of the room where Socks was standing with a knife in her mouth.

“Socks. What have you done? Whose knives are these?”

Meow.

“Don’t you meow me, missy!”

She trotted over and jumped up onto your bed dropping the knife in the rest of the pile.

You sighed rubbing your face roughly.

A quick knock at the door sounded and you flinched, “Hey Y/N. Have you seen my throwing knives I’m teaching some students and it seems they’ve all vanished. I don’t know what happ- oh my god is that a cat?!”

She squealed and took off toward Socks who cowered into the bed sheets.

Mila picked up Socks and cuddled her close, “She is so precious look at her!”

Cassian scurried over and quickly plucked Socks out her arms.

Mila grumbled and tried to take her back, but Cassian danced out of her way going to hide behind you with an annoyed Socks in his arms.

“So can I babysit?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Cassian.”

“Fine.”

Socks Episode #2:

It took Nei a while to meet Socks. Though she heard stories from Mila, you, and Cassian, she stayed away. She swore she just wasn’t a cat person.

One day Nei was fixing a ship in the hangar. She had music blaring and wasn’t paying attention too much else.

She was under the ship just messing around with a few wires when a shot of black attacked her legs. She slid out from under the ship and swatted at the cat in annoyance.

Socks hissed and kept attacking her legs. Nei shouted at the black blob, but it wouldn’t stop until she had been pushed halfway across the base.

Nei grumbled staring at Socks who was growling slightly. She was just about to go get you or Cassian when a blast sounded and Nei dove to the ground.

She rolled over taking in the view of the blast. The ship she had been working on was on fire.

She had narrowly just missed it.

She looked over at Socks who seemed to be smiling?

“Oh, you’re my new favorite.”

Cassian and you came skidding around the corner to find Nei holding a purring Socks over her head.

“Socks didn’t blow up the plane did she?”

Socks Episode #3:

Socks caused everyone to believe that there was a ghost haunting the base.

One night Socks snuck out of your room and into Leia’s room while she was sleeping.

Somehow Socks got tangled up in Leia’s white dress, got spooked, and took off down the base’s hall.

It was 4 am. People were sleep deprived and half conscious. To say that a shooting blur of white was believed to be a ghost was definitely true.

One rebel caught sight of a flash of white rounding a corner, started freaking out, and ran around the base screaming of ghosts and demons. Cassian who had fallen asleep in his workshop was startled awake at the screaming. As he comprehended what he heard, he took off just somehow knowing that it was Socks.

He ran through the base trying to find her but she wasn’t anywhere. Then he heard screaming. As he followed the frantic shrieks he ran by your room and quickly flew in screaming at you to help him.

You shot up out of bed and ran out of your room trailing after Cassian without a question. He grabbed your hand and you both took off.

Just as you rounded the corner a shot of white slammed into you. You grabbed onto it quickly and Cassian pulled Socks free. You heard footsteps rounding the corner and Cassian looked at you in horror. And then shoved Socks down his shirt. You were left holding Leia’s dress with a confused look on your face.

You heard Socks meow pitifully and Cassian shushed her lightly as someone rounded the corner.

Leia.

She took in Cassian, whose stomach was a little too round and moving? And then her gaze turned to you. Her dress in your hand. You gave her a sheepish smile and her brows lowered in suspicion as she grabbed her dress and left you two.

Meow?

Socks Episode #4:

By far the best thing that Socks did was torment General Draven. A few weeks into having her Socks began to vanish every morning at the same time for a few hours. Neither Cassian nor you knew where she was going. You tried to follow her but she would always vanish out of sight.

One morning, you and Cassian were walking through the base when you heard screaming from the intelligence office. You took off and opened the door to find General Draven screaming up at the ceiling.

Cassian coughed, “Um? Sir?”

Draven turned and pointed at you in accusation, “You! I know this is you somehow.”

“Um, you know what is me, sir?”

“Everything in my office keeps moving places. Or vanishing. There’s music coming from the walls. And banging coming from the ceiling! I don’t know how you’re doing it. But just stop. I lock the door, but somehow it keeps happening?!”

Meow.

A scratching sounded at the ceiling and your brows furrowed. You all looked up and caught sight of a vent. You looked over at Cassian realization dawning on your faces.

Cassian grabbed you around the waist and hoisted you up so you could yank open the vent. And then you pulled out Socks.

“That better not be a cat in your arms Y/N.”

“Um, well.”

Socks Episode #5:

Because of Socks, you and Cassian hadn’t had much time to be together. Socks was always interrupting the two of you. And you wanted a night alone together so you sent Socks to Mila’s for the night.

You leaned close to Cassian, his lips brushing against yours. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer to you. His hands ran up under your shirt and he pulled it up over your head.

As his lips began to trail down your neck you both fell onto the bed. You straddled his waist pulling him flush against you and pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Just as his hands were reaching down towards your pants you heard a pitiful meow. You sighed dropping your head to Cassian’s shoulder.

You looked over to the side of the bed. And there was Socks in all her glory staring up at the two of you with doe eyes.

“Socks?! How did you even get in here?” You groaned.

“Didn’t you lock the door?”

“Yes.”

“And blocked the air vent?”

“Yep.”

Meow.

Socks fluffed herself up and then jumped up on you and pushed in between the two of you snuggling into Cassian’s chest.

“Well, I guess it’s a party of three tonight.” You chuckled. Cassian pressed a kiss to your nose and you smiled curling up with Socks and Cassian.

The weeks passed and everyone found out about Socks. She became the hit of the base. You didn’t even try to lock her up anymore. She got out anyways. So she was free to roam.

The children followed her around like lost puppies.

The older agents snuck her food.

And everyone kept giving her gifts.

One morning you left your room to find an excited Mila standing outside your door holding a purring Socks.

“Come on Kitten Parent!”

“What?”

She shuffled you along and you bumped into Cassian, who was being pushed by Nei.

He pulled you close and mumbled, “What’s going on?”

You shrugged and you continued to follow Mila.

When you arrived at the hangar she pushed you through the door shoving Socks into your arms.

“Surprise!”

You jumped and backed into Cassian who steadied you with a chuckle.

There was the whole base. Everybody was wearing party hats. And holding presents.

Socks meowed and jumped out of your arms going to greet everybody.

A huge banner saying, HAPPY KITTEN SHOWER hung across the hangar.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Socks changed you and Cassian (and everybody else) for the better.

Socks was able to calm Cassian when he was stressed.

Socks knew when you needed to eat and would push up against you until you were out the door.

Socks knew when you needed to be alone and would watch you from afar making sure you were okay.

Socks would cuddle with Draven when she wanted to annoy him.

Socks would wait excitedly in the hangar for you, Cassian, Mila, or Nei to get back from a mission.

Socks would follow around Nei when she was doing dangerous stuff to make sure she was safe.

Socks would make sure to steal every knife except for Mila’s.

Socks befriended everybody on the base.

Socks received more gifts than anyone. Beds, toys, food, treats, everything.

Everyone knew her by name and would stop to pet her and praise her in the hallway.

Socks was an honorary member of the rebellion.

Socks was family now.

A family that had started out small, but had grown to include so many people you couldn’t imagine your life without.

Tagged: @ly--canthrope @misswinchester221b @heyjess-marie @latenightbooknerd

Next up: I don’t need a present this year (because all I need is you) aka First time celebrating a holiday together

PART 15

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor #rogue one #my fanfic

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revivedlegend · 8 years ago

Note

five times + quentin cleaning his gun (for sara and ray bc i had to)

Send me ‘five times + a word’ and I’ll write a drabble about our muses based on it // selectively accepting

Five Times Quentin Lance cleaned/handled his gun around Ray and/or Sara

@drcwningvoices

It’s not his usual jurisdiction but he’s in the area. He won’t admit it to anyone else at the station, but he’s looking for Sara. She was due home an hour ago. Her phone’s dead or off and Dinah’s starting to fret beneath her normally cool exterior. Quentin’s going to find his daughter but he’s going to answer this alert first. Noise in the old warehouse off First Street - could be a lead to Sara.

He hears the noises almost as soon as he gets out of the squad car. Something that sounds like the crashing of paint cans and a grunt of pain. He draws his gun and approaches slowly. The slow dread seeps into his bones; Sara had better not be here…but then, Quentin hears voices.

“Nice job, Dummy.”

“I just gotta re-calibrate the thrust and the-”

“Ray, you can’t just give yourself rocket skates with Heelys.”

“…You think I gotta start from scratch?”

“Yeah but don’t take this as me actually telling you to make your own rocket skates.”

…He knows that voice…Quentin steps into the warehouse proper…and there she is. His baby girl. All golden hair and bright smiles, helping some scrawny boy to his feet.

“Sara Yvonne Lance, what the hell are you doing?”

Cue crashing noises as the boy falls to the ground once more. Given his startled stare, it’s due to the gun and not the sudden voice. His daughter isn’t flustered at all, chirping out a bright “Hi Daddy. This is Ray. He’s a science nerd.” Aforementioned science nerd manages a weak wave, still staring down the barrel of the gun with utter dread. And all Quentin can do is blink, though his grim expression doesn’t dim.

Sara understands. “...We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Big time.”

ii.

It’s no longer uncommon for Quentin to get calls about that old warehouse - others at the station always assuming the disturbances are about “your youngest and that Palmer boy again.” And maybe seven times out of ten...it IS Sara and her little friend, working on experiments of his. Dinah suggests they just spend time over at the house but it’s maybe two months after that first meeting before Sara announces that Ray will be at the house the following evening. They have a physics test that Friday and Sara’s been slipping - perhaps more than either she or Laurel will admit to their parents but Quentin isn’t privy to his girls’ grades aside from their report cards.

There’s pizza and soda on the table beside where Quentin works. It’s been a while since he’s deep cleaned his gun - at least, that’s what he tells his wife. Though judging by Dinah’s disapproving stare, she knows better.

The young boy’s bright grin dims as he walks into the kitchen, eyes drawn to the dissembled pieces of metal like a magnet. Quentin doesn’t bother looking up for more than a second, those he’s inwardly fairly smug at the boy’s reaction. Oliver and Tommy have long since stopped being nervous around him - if they ever were. It’s nice to see a boy who knows his place.

“Raymond.” His voice is level, civil - he had promised Sara, after all.

The teenager’s gulp is almost audible, even from across the table. “D...Detective Lance,” he greets in return, trying and failing to hide his nervousness.

Sara flounces in a moment after, gathering up pizza on a paper plate for herself. She nudges Ray with her shoulder, jerking her head in the direction she had just come. “Come on, we can go work in my room.”

“Door open, young lady,” Quentin interjects, pointing the now clean and assembled but unloaded gun towards his daughter briefly. Ray flinches just a bit but Sara only rolls her eyes in response. She nudges Ray once more, urging him to get his food and follow her. And he does so, scrambling to get out from under the scrutinizing gaze of her father as quickly as possible.

It’s a few minutes later, when the pair are settled in Sara’s room, that his daughter’s exasperated voice floats down to the kitchen, to Quentin’s ears. “Oh my GOD, Ray, my dad isn’t going to kill you!”

There’s silence before his wife enters the kitchen for a slice of pizza herself. “You could look a little more upset that you’ve terrified Sara’s friend.”

“You know me, Di. ‘m not a very good actor,” Quentin teased, smile widening.

iii.

Sara looks confused and maybe a touch more flustered than intended when Laurel announces that her sister’s going to prom with her boyfriend. “Ray and I are just friends,” she insists, though the flush on pink in her cheeks betrays otherwise. For a while, Quentin thinks she’s lying but Dinah tells him he’s absurd - “She knows how much I like that boy. If they were dating, she’d tell me,” his wife insists.

No, Sara’s story is that she and Ray will be attending prom with a group of friends and would only be “together” because the rest of the group was coupled off, for pictures and the like. But Quentin can see the signs; it’s his job to read between the lines, to see what criminals try to hide. And though he can’t say he likes ANY of the boys who try to date his girls...Ray Palmer isn’t a criminal by any stretch of the imagination.

But that doesn’t stop Quentin from being able to read between the lines. The excited grins, the nervous and trembling fingers that slip the flowered corsage onto a thin wrist, the close way they stand - always just barely touching - even before Dinah announces she needs to take pictures before they leave.

Quentin returns his focus to his gun but finds it drifting back to the teenagers every time. It’s been a while since he’s seen Sara this giddy...it’s a pretty sight.

“Why don’t you too move over by the fireplace?” Quentin suggests, gesturing with the piece of disassembled weaponry in his hand. “It’ll be a nicer background.”

Their grins disappear almost immediately - Ray gulps nervously, nodding because who could refuse Detective Lance? Sara frowns - the picture of her mother - glaring at her father, silently begging him to be silent.

But their wide, excited smiles return when they leave - Ray holding the door open for Sara to exit the house first, with a promise to the Lance matriarch to have Sara home by 1. And Quentin lets them go. Because there’s gonna come a day when he can’t stop Sara anymore. And at least, she has someone else watching her back now.

iv.

“You’re an old fashioned sort of guy, Raymond.”

A slight shrug, a sheepish smile. “Not always. But I figured you’d appreciate it.”

And he does. More than he’ll admit. He stares across the table at the boy before him - no...no, young Raymond Palmer was indeed a man now. Not just because he had grown into his body - no longer gangly and scrawny but tall and shapely and muscular. But also because he seemed more self assured. He knows who he is. He knows what he wants. Even if it has taken him years to get to this point.

There’s still that nervousness shining in his eyes, following Quentin’s fingers as he works to clean his gun - though the older man suspects that Ray knows he’s not doing it to keep it clean. But he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t move away. He doesn’t stutter. He waits patiently for the man’s full attention and he stands his ground, even if he’s still a little anxious.

Quentin can respect that.

So he sets his work down and folds his hands before him, meeting the younger man’s gaze head on. “So. You want to take Sara out on a date.” It’s not a question.

Ray nods. “Yes sir.” His neutral expression gives way to a slight smile - sheepish but undeniably fond - and Quentin knows he’s not thinking about their conversation, but rather the girl it centers on. “She, uh...she thought I was kind of dumb for wanting to ask you.”

Quentin wasn’t surprised; he had long since stopped trying to control his youngest. Sara wouldn’t willingly let anyone tell her what to do, unless it was something she’d do anyway. “So why are you?”

This leaves Ray silent for a moment, only shrugging once. “I dunno. We’ve never really seen eye to eye, Detective. The, uh...the gun makes that pretty clear.” A pause and when he gathers his thoughts and meets Quentin’s gaze again, the nervousness is gone from Ray’s eyes. “But I care about Sara. Probably more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else. And I don’t want to screw things up because I wasn’t willing to bury the hatchet with you.”

Now it’s Quentin’s turn for silence. Yes. Ray Palmer was definitely a man now.

It’s a long moment before Quentin speaks. “Have her home by 12.”

“It’s Sara,” Ray laughs. “I’ll try, sir, but you know she’s going to stay out as long as she wants.”

Quentin chuckles in agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “You’re right, you’re right.”

She’s giddy again and Quentin is reminded of her prom night. The light flush in her cheeks is back, the wide and dazzling grin the prettiest thing she wears - though the dress is stunning too. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to expel her anxious energy while behind closed doors. It’s kind of an endearing sight and Quentin can’t help but chuckle.

“Easy, Angel. We’ll get going soon enough.”

“I know, I know, I just,” Sara sighs in quiet exasperation, though her smile barely dims. “I just wanna get it over with, you know? It’s...It’s been a long time coming.”

No one would argue with her on that. It had taken longer than anyone had anticipated for this day to finally arrive.

“You’ve waited for years, Sara, you can wait another five minutes,” he teases. He can see the look of protest on her face - as if she wants to whine like a teenager that she couldn’t wait - but something glints in the corner of her vision and Sara frowns lightly.

“...Daddy, why are you armed?”

“Always gotta be at the ready, Angel,” he answers, patting his shoulder holster reassuringly. He pauses for only a moment before grinning playfully at his baby girl. “Besides, one last effort to try and scare Raymond off won’t hurt anyone.”

Her exasperation dissipates slightly, giving way to a playfully tired look. “Daddy, you haven’t been able to scare off Ray for the last decade. I doubt he’s gonna suddenly decide he’s scared of you on our wedding day.”

Quentin chuckles because...yeah, the idea is absurd. Nothing is going to stop Ray and Sara from having their special day, just the way they’ve wanted it. Not even a father saddened about watching his daughter go. He knows this, he’s known this is where his daughter and her fiance were headed for years. No one - least of all an armed Quentin Lance - can stopped it now. And he doesn’t really want to, not when Sara os so happy.

The piano strikes up a familiar tune and Sara’s nervous energy is back. Quentin double checks his gun in its holster before holding his arm out for his daughter. “Come on. I think Raymond’s just as anxious as you are to get this show on the road.”

#messages #drcwningvoices #S: i've never seen a smile that can light the room like yours ; it's simply radiant (sara and ray)#C: caring for people ; protecting people ; i learned it from my dad (quentin lance)#verse: a canary who hasn't flown from her nest (teenager)#((I WIDENED THE PROMPT TO ALLOW FOR MORE STUFF BUT Y E A H I HOPE YOU LIKE IT DOTTIE))

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